Page 4 of Hunted Temptation (Alpha Nights: Unlikely Heroes #4)

Chapter Three

ELODIE

I count the hours down until my father is supposed to wake up. His words were enough of a warning for me that I’ve been physically ill with anticipation for hours… maybe it’s more dread than anticipation, though.

I’ve showered twice, done my hair, and put on a full face of makeup. The only thing I haven’t done is put on any clothes.

I’m in a robe, waiting for my next instruction. I already know that if I got dressed, it would just upset him. So I wait for his demands, because they will be coming, and they will be in detail.

As I sit on the edge of my bed, my head is dipped as I wait for my father to enter my room, my knee bouncing as I do. I don’t know what he has planned tonight, but it must be big if he was gone all night last night and then told me I needed to be on my best behavior tonight.

And I know what best behavior means in his world.

It means not only willing but enthusiastically excited about whatever is going to happen. And that whatever is going to be something I absolutely do not want to do. It’s going to be something that makes me feel gross, bad, and sick.

And since I’m already sick just thinking about it, I can’t imagine how it’s all going to go down.

Anxiety fills me. It flows through me almost like a living, breathing thing.

It fills the air in the room, threatening to choke me, and I blink back tears as I await my fate.

I’m not sure why, whether it was the seriousness in my father’s tone, the way he gently woke me up to warn me about this afternoon, or what —but this feels big.

The door to my bedroom opens just as I’m about to attempt to calm my breathing because it’s become short and rapid. There stands my father. He’s dressed in a suit, which isn’t unheard of, but usually, he hates them.

“It has been postponed,” he announces, the irritation clearly expressed on his face.

“Postponed?” I ask.

My heart feels as if it’s about to actually burst out of my chest at the thought of feeling this anxious for however long I’m going to have to wait. I hate it. I wait for his response, wondering if he’s even going to tell me.

My father loves to watch me suffer in any way possible. Mental anguish is actually his preferred method, although he does enjoy physical pain as well. So I wait, my mind conjuring up some really scary and sick images as I do.

“Tomorrow,” he states.

I open my mouth to ask him what is going to happen tomorrow, but then decide against it. Snapping my lips closed, I press them together as I attempt to calm myself down. It doesn’t work. I’m still a gigantic ball of anxiety.

Thankfully, or maybe unthankfully, he puts me out of my misery and continues. “A heavy hitter is coming to town tomorrow. He arrives today but has several conflicting engagements, and he is unable to get away from them. He’s requested the best I have, which is you.”

I’m not sure how I should feel about that. I don’t think this is something I should be proud to be the best at. I wish I didn’t excel at anything—at all. It might make my life a hell of a lot easier if that were the case.

But unfortunately, this part of me was created by this man. Created to be everything and anything he deemed necessary. I hate it. Every single second of it. I’ve never wanted to be this thing , this creation of his.

I feel like a monster, like I’ve been picked apart, pulled apart, and then sewn back together again… inside and out.

My father lifts his hand, and I don’t flinch back as much as I want to. Clenching my jaw, I anticipate his touch. He turns his hand over before he touches me, the back of his knuckle grazing me from my earlobe down my jawline and stopping at the center of my chin.

“Open for me,” he demands softly.

I want to do anything but that, any single thing. Reaching for my robe tie, I begin to open it for him, but one slight shake from his head causes me to pause. When I feel the pad of this thumb touch my bottom lip, I realize what he wants.

As much as I hate this part, at least it’s not as invasive as anything else. “You’ll save the rest of your body for tomorrow. He is particular about his girls. He’s made that much clear.”

Gross.

I do what I’m instructed to do, hating every single second of it. Every single millisecond. Every single nanosecond. Whatever time wants to be measured by.

I hate it.

All of it.

So I disappear into that recess of my mind where I can live in some kind of ignorance, my body taking over movements and instructions without me being present. And as each second passes, I can’t help but hope that it’s over with soon.

VAUGHN

Glancing down at my gold Versace Dominus Skeleton watch, I check the time. I spent far longer than I should have getting cameras turned off, adding trackers, and then figuring out where I could put listening devices without being seen.

Obviously, I couldn’t put them in Elodie’s bedroom, considering she was in her room when I started working. But I was able to put a camera in Scoggins’s bedroom and office, along with a listening device in both places. I planted a tracker on his car as well.

By the time I make it back to the Airbnb and test my new devices, it’s already dark. I get all the surveillance screens back up and wait for whatever is supposed to be coming tonight.

The way Elodie was behaving with the makeup and hair, I figured something was happening. But when the screen in her bedroom comes back up, she’s no longer in her robe. Instead, she’s barefaced, wearing shorts and an oversized hoodie.

Finding Scoggins in the house is easy. He’s in the kitchen. His back is to the camera, but he’s standing at the stove. Glancing down his body, I notice that he, too, is dressed very casually in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

I watch them, though I watch them in silence because neither of them is speaking. Then I hear Scoggins’s voice loud and clear. He calls Elodie out for dinner. Shifting my gaze to her, I watch as she gingerly, almost as if she’s in pain, throws her legs over the side of the bed.

She stands and lets out a heavy sigh, seemingly completely exhausted as she begins to move through the bedroom, the hallway, the living room, and then into the dining room. Scoggins tells her to sit down before he brings a plate of food over to her.

That single move causes my spine to straighten. Of everything I know about him from his file, I cannot imagine him being a kind and thoughtful parent. I shift my attention over to Elodie. Her gaze is downcast, her hands are in her lap, and she sits perfectly still.

Then, when the plate is set down in front of her, only then does she speak. It’s my first taste of hearing her voice, and I instantly hate it.

“Thank you,” she breathes.

I don’t hate her voice because it sounds bad. It’s actually sexy as fuck, perfect really, but what I hate is how small she’s making herself, and that’s because her father wants her that way. He doesn’t make himself a plate.

In fact, he takes a step backward from the table and tilts his head to the side, watching her for a moment before he speaks.

“Clean the kitchen. Go to bed early. You need your rest.”

“Yes, sir.”

He dips his chin, then he’s gone. He walks out the front door. Pulling up the tracking app on my phone, I get that set up while he climbs into the car. But my visual focus is on Elodie. She seems defeated.

Completely and totally defeated.

I don’t like this at all. I haven’t liked the vibes of this household since the moment I pulled in across the street, but right now, they seem downright off-putting. Knowing what I do about this man, there is no way that this is a normal household.

Although it’s not like I would know what normal is anyway. I really don’t have the first clue.

Normal isn’t in my vocabulary, or any of the other guys’ of Securus, either. Opening the tracking app on my computer, I watch as Scoggins’s car moves down the street. Then I reach for my phone, find Boden’s number, and hit the call icon. I can’t focus on the screen and text at the same time.

“Vaughn,” he announces.

I have to wonder if he’s with anyone else, the way he said my name. I wait for a moment, wondering if he’s going to continue, but when he doesn’t, I start to speak.

“I need an in-depth report on Elodie Scoggins.”

I’m met with silence.

Then a little more.

Opening my mouth, I start to ask him if he’s still there when he speaks. “You want information on this asshole’s family?” Boden asks.

“His eighteen-year-old daughter.”

More silence.

Then a whispered word. Just one. “ Vaughn .”

Clearing my throat, I try to think of the words to say. I don’t know what exactly I’m going to say to make this sound not creepy. Because it’s creepy. Even I know that much. But that doesn’t mean I can stop myself from watching, like now, when my gaze finds her.

She’s finished up the dishes and is making her way through the house, turning off all the lights as she moves toward her bedroom. Closing the house for the night. If anyone looked in on her in this moment, they’d think she was a normal teenager.

“I just need to know. Something isn’t right.”

“Like how?” he asks.

I close my eyes slowly before I open them again as I collect my thoughts. “In the worst way you can imagine.”

He grunts, then clears his throat before he speaks. His voice is low, grave, and I can feel the pain that slices through him, maybe because it slices through me as well. We know how absolutely depraved humans can be.

So when we imagine, it’s the worst of the absolute worst way that someone can harm another.

And I think that’s exactly what’s happening with Elodie.

I can’t think about the details, can’t even begin to imagine them, because if I do, I’m not sure that this job is going to go off without some serious hitches.

And I have this little side job because I’m damn good at it. One of the best, actually. So I cannot have this go down messily.

I need to continue on my path.

Continue with my mission and find the top motherfucker in this whole ring.

End him.

Whoever he is.

I don’t know if it will change anything, but I’ll sure feel a hell of a lot better. With each piece of shit that dies by my hand, I swear to fuck the weight on my shoulders is becoming lighter.

Maybe soon enough, I’ll be able to breathe without tasting putrid acid, too. Maybe soon enough, I’ll be able to close my eyes at night and sleep. Maybe those nightmares will disappear.

And maybe one day, I’ll even be able to love. Though that’s probably never going to happen. I wouldn’t know the first thing about love, so it’s not something I’ve really ever aspired to do. The other guys have it, and that’s great, but I’m pretty damn sure it’s not for me.

“You think she’s being used?” Boden asks.

“I do,” I say. “I tapped into the video surveillance at the house. Scoggins has every room in that house outfitted with a camera, except his own, the bathrooms, and his office. That includes a camera on his daughter. In her bedroom.”

Boden doesn’t speak immediately, but after a moment of silence, he clears his throat before he replies. “Just doing a quick search. I’ll send something more in depth later, but she went to the public high school, got decent grades, no clubs, nothing special.”

“Her mother?” I ask.

I don’t know why I didn’t look deeper into her mother myself. Maybe I thought she would appear somewhere in the house or something. There wasn’t a wife listed in Scoggins’s folder, but that doesn’t mean anything.

The wife would never be my target, so maybe there would be a picture or something, but that’s about it, just like with Elodie. It’s just my dick that’s got me looking deeper into her… deeper… pun definitely intended.

“Dead,” Boden states. “Not sure how, but it seems as if she died when Elodie was just six months old.”

“How the fuck?” I ask.

“She was young, too,” he murmurs. “Too young… only nineteen.”

“How old was Scoggins?”

“Thirty.”

As much as I want to know more about the situation, that is really all I need to know. Sure, it would be the pot calling the kettle black, considering that’s about the age gap between me and Elodie. However, I’m not a gigantic sick piece of shit, so that’s a big difference.