Page 7 of How to Hack a Hellhound (Hellhounds of Paradise Falls #2)

Chapter 7

Quinton

A fter I woke up for the second time (third time?), Aiden fed me again, and then he got a ride to the coffee shop from someone named Jude. He assured me that Jude had helped rescue him and that the guy was trustworthy, but I still told him to make sure to call me when he got to the shop. I didn’t even want just a text. It was easy enough to fake a text, after all.

Cassius told me to take the day off, which was fine by me. I still felt groggy and tired despite sleeping so much. I guess getting drugged would do that to a person.

Some of my clothes were in the dresser in the bedroom, which Aiden had probably brought over last night. Hopefully, a hot shower would put me right again, and then I’d get my own ride back to the apartment. I could ask Cassius, or even Dexter or Toby if I needed to.

Someone knocked at the door, and when I pushed aside the curtain and looked through the glass, I wasn’t terribly surprised to see that it was Toby. It was like thinking his name had invoked his presence. He was totally some kind of supernatural creature—I just didn’t know what kind.

And he had a notebook and pen in his hand. Well, shit. That meant he was in writer mode, which was never good for anyone. Yay. I couldn’t wait to be asked all sorts of questions about being drugged. I opened the door and let him in.

“Are you ok? How are you feeling? I heard you were…” Toby trailed off as he came in, and then he started poking around the living room.

The place had an open floor plan, so the living room led into the kitchen. It felt spacious for a small pool house, or whatever it was, and it was sparsely but expensively decorated. There was a comfy looking couch, a television stand type thing with a gas fireplace built in, and a large television mounted above it. There was a kitchen island that separated the living room from the kitchen area. Toby was currently opening the cabinets and drawers on the tv stand. I had no idea what he was doing.

“I’m fine. I’ll have to thank Dexter,” I said.

Toby stopped and looked at me. “Why?”

“Um, because he saved me from being assaulted or killed or sold into sex trafficking… again.” I chuckled mirthlessly at my last comment.

“No he didn’t,” Toby said, staring at me curiously. “You don’t remember who brought you here?” He opened his notebook and jotted something down.

I barely resisted rolling my eyes. I felt like I should just get the story out of the way so Toby didn’t ask me a million questions. “Aiden said Dexter brought me home. That’s what I was going off of. I was drugged by the bartender, and I remember him helping me into a back room, and then a tall guy with dark hair busted in, and I think he knocked James out, but I’m not sure. Everything is fuzzy and disjointed, because, you know, I was drugged. Then I think the dark haired guy helped me to a car, and I feel like he put James in the trunk, but that’s kind of crazy.”

Toby looked down guiltily at that. Ok, so maybe that wasn’t crazy. I had to remember who I was dealing with here. Maybe Toby was a vampire and he had minions who brought home people for him to suck blood from.

I tried to muster up some horror at that, but Toby was nice, if a little weird, and he hadn’t hurt me or Aiden. If he was a vampire, I bet he was so clumsy and squeamish that Dexter probably had to do most of the bloodletting.

I stifled a chuckle at that thought, because I could totally see Toby going to bite some person and missing their vein like three times and even the person getting exasperated. I pictured some guy saying, Hello, you’re just poking holes in me now and barely getting any blood. What kind of vampire are you?

Ok, so maybe Toby wasn’t a vampire. But he was still looking guilty, and he had said Dexter was a hellhound, whatever the hell that meant. Based on my rescue experience, I was guessing something with fire. If James was a pile of ashes right now, I didn’t really feel bad about that. I probably should, because I had thought of him as an almost friend, but he’d drugged me. Maybe not caring if he was dead made me a bad person, but I didn’t really care.

“Toby, is the guy who drugged me dead?” I asked.

“Ummm, well, I mean… I’m not technically sure what happened to him,” Toby hedged.

Uh huh. Right. Not technically sure.

“Who brought me here?” I asked, trying a different line of questioning.

That was apparently easier, because Toby brightened up. “Oh, that was Liam. He’s one of Dexter’s… brothers. Sort of. He was at the club and saw what happened.” He shrugged, and then he looked guilty and started poking around the cabinet again.

“Liam was the tall guy with dark hair?” I asked.

Toby mumbled, “Mmhmm,” but he didn’t turn around. He was now kneeling on the floor, ass up in the air as he looked underneath the cabinet.

I rubbed my head. Toby was a lot for me to deal with on a good day, and today was not my best day. “Did you lose something?” I finally asked. I was tired, and my head hurt, and I just wanted a hot shower, and instead I got Toby being… Toby.

“No?” he said, looking up at me. It was more of a question than an answer, though.

“What are you doing? I feel like I’m on a prank show or something,” I muttered.

Toby started laughing a little hysterically as he stood up and dusted himself off. “A prank show! Haha, yes! A prank show! Where people film you without your knowledge because they think they’re watching over you when really they’re just being creepy as fuck because people do not spy on others without their consent .”

Then he stared at me. Like I was supposed to know what the fuck he was talking about.

“Toby, I’m tired, and I had a rough night, and I am not spying on anyone, and I have no idea what you’re talking about, so maybe you could let me go take a hot shower and then give me a ride back to my apartment?”

Toby just muttered something under his breath about cameras and my apartment, then he walked over to the kitchen island where my laptop was set up and closed it (even though the screensaver was on). Then he stared at me, looking nervous.

“Just spit it out, whatever it is,” I sighed.

“If someone was watching you, like through your camera on your computer or little cameras scattered throughout the house, haha, then I’m sure that person would only be doing it because they were trying to watch out for you and make sure nothing bad happened to you, even if it was a total and complete breach of your privacy, but sometimes people who are… different … don’t always know what’s normal and appropriate.” Toby looked at me beseechingly.

“Is Dexter spying on me?” I asked, tossing the idea around in my head. Did I mind if Dexter was spying on me? I mean, I probably should mind, but he’d rescued me, and obviously I wasn’t out of danger yet, because I’d almost gotten myself taken again last night. I suppressed a shudder at the thought of what would have happened if someone hadn’t been there watching.

Toby looked a little horrified, though. “Dexter would never spy on you!”

I just sighed, walking over and grabbing Toby by the arm. “Ok, I’m gonna shower, and then I’ll call you for a ride to my apartment, ok?” I asked as I led him to the door and opened it, helping him out the door. Once he was outside, I started to shut the door.

“Just make sure the shower curtain is closed when you get naked!” he cried out, and then the door was shut.

What. The. Fuck.

I watched out the curtain as Toby walked off, then I leaned against the door, thinking. Someone was watching me. It wasn’t Dexter, and it obviously wasn’t Toby, because he was horrified by it. This house was on the property that was owned by Dexter and his… whatever they were. I’d seen Jude when he picked up Aiden, and he looked nothing like Dexter, so if they were brothers, it wasn’t by blood.

Either way, I bet it was one of them who had cameras set up in here. Which was… not fine, exactly, but it was their house, so I guessed they could do what they wanted. Although did his last comment mean they had cameras in the bathroom? Because that was kinda high on the creepy factor.

But then there was Toby’s comment about my computer. Did that mean that someone was watching me? That someone had been watching me? I walked over and opened my computer up and stared at it. I didn’t know enough about computers to know what it would take to spy on someone through their camera. Did that mean they had access to everything on my computer? Because suddenly certain websites closing out was starting to make me wonder if my computer was actually glitchy, or if someone was responsible.

I opened up a doc and started typing. This was probably really stupid, but…

Are you watching me?

I waited, staring at the blinking cursor. I knew it was crazy, but I felt like there was a presence behind the screen, like someone was there, and they were debating on whether to respond or not. My heart almost stopped when letters started to appear on the page.

I have been informed that watching you would be an invasion of your privacy.

So formal, but still obviously watching at least my computer. And able to override it somehow, as well. You didn’t answer the question , I typed.

You and Aiden should move into the pool house. You are more protected here.

Ok. Still didn’t answer the question.

Suddenly the whole thing seemed kind of hilarious, and I couldn’t help a chuckle. Aww, are you asking me to move in with you, my creepy stalker? I almost regretted the words after I typed them, but fuck it. If this guy was stalking me, he probably knew I had an attitude.

I have been informed that people do not ask people they have not officially met to move in with them.

I laughed, wondering who had “informed” him of that. Is Toby there with you? I asked. I was beginning to think it had to be one of Dexter’s “brothers” and that none of them were human.

No , the cursor typed. A man of few words, obviously.

Why would you be watching me? I asked.

They know you’re alive now. James didn’t text anyone, but plenty of people saw you last night.

I sat back. It had to be the dark-haired guy from the bar. Liam, Toby had said. He’d come in, knocked James out, and taken us both back here. He made it sound like he’d started watching me after the whole bar thing, which was only last night, but Toby made it seem like this had been going on for longer.

I shut my computer and went into the bathroom. Liam—if it was Liam—was being cagey with his answers, and I had a feeling I’d get far more out of Toby. I’d shower and then call him up for a ride.

I took Toby’s advice and undressed behind the shower curtain, although it did suck having to try and stay out of the reach of the spray while the water heated up. Thankfully, it didn’t take very long. And damn, the water was hot . I stood under the spray for quite awhile, and it didn’t even get cooler after five minutes. Their hot water heater was obviously better than the apartment’s.

I thought about what the guy had said. He wanted me to stay here because people knew I was alive now. I hadn’t thought last night through, or even realized that Marcus’s people might have assumed I was dead. Last night had not been the best decision on my part.

Correction: he wanted us to stay here. He’d clearly said that. I fought down a totally weird surge of jealousy. Did he watch Aiden, too?

I kind of didn’t think so. Aiden didn’t use a computer, and Liam had been at the club I was at, not following Aiden around.

Why did that give me a feeling of satisfaction? Did I actually like that I was being watched?

It did feel kind of… reassuring. Yeah, I knew that was totally fucked up, but I could have been taken again. This guy had stopped that. He’d been watching me, and sure, Toby was right that it was a total invasion of privacy, but this guy had protected me. He hadn’t hurt me. He’d taken me someplace safe, brought Aiden to me, and let me sleep off the drugs.

It was sort of sweet.

I started shampooing my hair with a chuckle. Yep, I was officially fucked up beyond belief. Finding your stalker sweet was not normal. Then again, nothing had been normal for me for quite awhile. Plus, he probably wasn’t human, which was oddly reassuring. He also obviously knew his way around computers, so maybe he was some kind of hacker.

As I rinsed my hair, I realized I also felt… safe. I hadn’t felt that way since Marcus, despite the locks and security system and everything else. Nothing would happen to me or Aiden, and if something did, he was watching. He would take care of it.

I soaped up, wondering if maybe I could hack my way into this guy’s good graces and get him to use his computer skills to find the people who worked with Marcus. I started whistling, thinking about watching all those scumbags go up in flames.

I rinsed off and shut off the water, grabbing a towel to dry off. I threw on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and I was towel drying my hair as I walked out of the bathroom and into the living space.

There was a man sitting at the kitchen island. I froze, my heart racing, my hand still holding the towel to my head. I recognized him as the guy from last night, so I tried not to panic, but still… finding someone in your previously empty, locked, alarmed living space was a little disconcerting.

I supposed he had the keys and codes, and I didn’t think he meant me any harm. After all, he’d had every opportunity last night, and he hadn’t hurt me. I slowly lowered my hand holding the towel and stared at him. He looked relaxed and even smiled at me. He had two cups of coffee set out—one in front of him, and one in front of the seat next to him.

“I made you coffee,” he said, pushing the cup toward me.

I stared at him.

Ok, so he was sexy as fuck, sitting there with his sleeves rolled up, cords of muscle on his forearms, but… this was not exactly normal.

He noticed my hesitation, and he frowned for a moment before he pulled the cup over meant for me, took a large drink, and then put it back down, sliding it towards me with a smile on his face and a nod.

It took me a minute to realize he was reassuring me it wasn’t drugged. Like, you know, that was a perfectly normal thing to do. Right up there with watching someone on camera and breaking into their place while they showered. Well, not technically my place… but still.

I walked over to the other side of the island, leaned against it, and he slid the cup toward me. I took a sip, closing my eyes. It was perfect . It was made exactly to my liking, and it even had some of the peppermint syrup I added when I was having an especially difficult day. Only we weren’t even in my apartment, so where the hell had he gotten peppermint syrup?

“Is it not to your liking?” he asked, looking at me curiously. I must have been scowling at him.

“Nope. It’s exactly to my liking,” I accused. “The perfect amount of cream and sugar, and even some of my favorite peppermint syrup.” I stared at him, raising my eyebrows.

Fuck, his eyes were amazing. They were the lightest blue with little flecks of amber in them. He looked like a puppy dog, staring at me, a little confused and unsure at my obvious attitude.

“Would you like something else? I know you just ate, but perhaps you’re hungry again?” he asked.

Did he totally not realize how freaking weird it was that he knew exactly how I liked my coffee? That he knew I’d just eaten? He actually fidgeted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable at my death stare, and a tiny growl escaped him, only it didn’t sound threatening. It was kind of cute, actually.

I tilted my head at him. I was guessing he was a hellhound, then, just like Dexter.

Somehow that made things easier. Dexter was fucking clueless, and obviously this guy wasn’t much better. He probably thought he was being normal. I almost rolled my eyes at him.

Fucking hellhounds. You’d think they’d be halfway decent at dealing with humans. Still, he had saved me. And, ok, it didn’t hurt that he was probably sexier than Henry Cavill (and I hadn’t known that was even possible).

“We haven’t been properly introduced,” I said, taking another sip of my perfect coffee.

Obviously I’d have to take the lead in modeling normal human behavior. If during the course of the conversation, I somehow figured out a way to get him to help me track down Marcus’s pals, then all the better.

I was nothing if not determined. He could either help me, or he could watch me take them down myself.