Page 5 of Nave (Henchmen MC: Next Generation #14)

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Nave

“What the fuck?” I said, standing just a few feet from the car we’d driven in, staring up at the glass-house mansion before me.

It was a lifted structure for…. absolutely no reason at all. We weren’t anywhere near water that would necessitate putting a fucking house on stilts. And yet.

“Ugly as shit, ain’t it?” my partner on this particular errand asked, making me turn to look at him. Tats, blondish hair, “crazy as fuck” practically stamped across his forehead.

I didn’t know shit about this Dezi guy, save for the fact that he was working for the people who just hired me for a job as well. And that he made me stop on the way over to grab a fucking carton of donut holes. That he promptly ate all by himself. All fifty of them.

And, of course, that he had bloody knuckles and a nasty-ass split lip since the last time I’d seen him.

“Guess the cars stay cool, though,” he said, nodding over toward where two cars were parked in the driveway beneath the house.

I wasn’t paying attention to the cars.

I was more concerned with the twenty-five cameras I counted pointed in our direction. Twenty-five. And those were only the ones I saw. Only the ones facing the driveway.

“The cameras don’t weird you out?”

To that, Dezi shrugged. “Guess you gotta protect your joint, man. Dunno. Never had one.”

A few cameras, sure.

But if what was true out front was true for the sides and back, that was, what, a hundred cameras? More?

That wasn’t protection. That was paranoia.

And if there was one thing I’d learned during my time on my own, working random jobs both legit and… less than, it was that paranoid fuckers were dangerous. They were always expecting to be stabbed in the back, so they were forever accusing you of being the one with the knife.

I probably should have asked more about the job before I’d taken it. But cash was running low. And I wasn’t anywhere near ready to head back home yet.

No matter how much my mom said she was worried. And how often my father asked what the hell I was trying to prove.

I had no answers for him.

I didn’t really know what the motivator was to up and leave my town, my family, my friends, my secure position in a well-paying job at the club.

I guess I just needed to figure out who the hell I was outside of the influence of all those people.

I wasn’t the only legacy who felt the same way. Valen had taken off. Ferryn up and left for ages, without hardly a word to anyone. And last I heard, Rune and Croft were headed down to Puerto Rico for an untold amount of time.

Maybe it boiled down to that word.

Legacy.

Our parents had the chance to make their own, had led these over-the-top, crazy, dangerous, interesting lives. Even before they joined the club.

But we next-gen kids, we got sheltered. Enough that the confines chafed, even if we understood why our parents wanted to protect us from the things they’d had to experience.

So we needed to bust down the walls, take off, see the world for ourselves. Good, bad, and ugly.

This was definitely looking ugly.

“You coming or what?” Dezi asked, glancing back at me.

I exhaled hard, knowing there was no going back now. I’d agreed to the job. I knew the details. This crew wouldn’t let me walk away without getting what they wanted.

Besides, I needed the money.

“Yep,” I agreed, falling in at his side as we made our way toward the steps that led up.

And, wouldn’t you guess it, more cameras. On the treads of the steps, looking down from the banister, up above us on the side of the house.

This was “big brother” dialed up to the max.

Except it wasn’t the government.

“The fuck you need a crotch-height camera for?” Dezi asked aloud to the owner who was probably listening via those cameras. “You wanna see it, I could whip it out.”

“Dez,” I warned.

“Not my fault he’s a creep,” he mumbled under his breath before raising his hand and pressing the intercom button. Endlessly.

Until, with a frustrated whip, the door flew open.

“Was that necessary?” the man standing there in his weirdly all-white outfit (white linen shirt, matching pants, white slides) asked.

“Didn’t know how that thing worked,” Dezi lied. I had to give him credit; he did it convincingly, too. I got the feeling that he was nowhere near as dumb as he let a lot of people assume about him.

The man, Ben, ignored that.

“Leave your shoes out here.”

Dezi shot me a Can you believe this shit? look that I shrugged at as I reached down to undo my laces. Dezi leaned down to do the same, revealing bare feet that made Ben look green.

“Here,” he said, reaching to produce a pair of—I shit you not—those paper shoe covers that doctors, floor guys, and real estate agents insisted on.

Thankfully, Dezi bit back whatever he had to say to that as he slipped on the booties then nearly shouldered his way into the house.

I took one last deep breath before following.

The inside of the glass house was somehow more disarming than the outside. Because on the outside, the windows were mirrored, reflecting back the greenery and sky. Inside, it was like you were inside the forest, but up in the trees. It made me feel a little unsteady for a moment as I stepped in.

Behind me, the door closed with a hiss, then a click as a lock slid into place.

Turning, I saw a little solid red light on the handle, letting Ben know with one glance that the lock was engaged.

Aside from all the views around, I took in everything else.

The white tile floors. And I’d never seen grout so clean in my life. White granite kitchen counters, white cabinets. White stone end and coffee tables. An off-white couch.

And everything inside had a mix of a bleach and lemon scent.

There were several whirring sounds, making me look around to try to find their source.

HEPA filters.

Six of them.

The more I noticed them, the louder they seemed to grow until they were all I heard.

“One at a time,” Ben said, waving toward the stairs that led upstairs.

Dezi gave me a look but followed behind Ben toward the steps.

“Christ,” I said, raking a hand down my face, feeling like a trapped rat in this weird, too-clean house with no fewer than a dozen cameras inside as well.

“Um, hi,” a soft voice called, making me whip around to see a woman descending the last step where Dezi and Ben had just disappeared.

She was average height and gently curvy, with golden hair and a warm smile.

What struck me, though, was that just like Ben, she was wearing all white: white linen shorts, a white shirt, a white chunky sweater, and a pair of white fluffy slippers.

“Hey,” I greeted, surprised by the punch of desire.

“I’m Lolly,” she said, seeming unsure of herself.

“Nave.”

“Nave,” she repeated, and I couldn’t look away from her mouth as she said my name. “That’s a unique name.”

“So is Lolly.”

“Crazy parents,” she said with a wave. “Can I get you some coffee?”

I was surprised anything not white was allowed in the house.

“That’d be great.”

She waved an invite over toward the kitchen, and I watched as she reached into the cabinets to produce a paper cup and lid. Each drawer she opened contained paper and plastic products. Not a single real plate or cup or… anything.

“I know,” she said, her voice so low that I could barely hear it. “Not super environmentally friendly, is it?” she asked, going over to the coffee machine to stick a pod in. “Ben likes things clean.”

“I noticed,” I agreed, glancing around.

There was nothing on the counters. Not a single crumb. No bowl of fruit. Not a dish in the sink or a dishtowel hanging from a hook.

“How do you cook?” I asked as she fiddled with the smartwatch on her wrist, seeming uncomfortable.

“Oh, uh, I don’t.”

“Not a fan?” I asked.

“I actually love to cook.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“We eat takeout,” she said instead of answering. Then, her voice nearly a whisper, “Ben is particular about his food.”

Ben seemed particular about everything.

“Does he have a lot of allergies?” I asked, watching her stiffen. “The HEPA filters,” I clarified.

“Oh, no. No, he likes the air… clean.”

“The whole place is clean,” I said.

“Yes. It’s always like this.”

“Ben likes to clean?”

“No.”

So she did the cleaning.

My hand slid down as she handed me my finished cup of coffee, noticing her painfully short fingernails, the red tips to her fingers. Like someone who spent hours scrubbing might have.

“You gonna have a cup with me?” I asked when she looked lost at what to do or say next.

There was a second of uncertainty. Then, I don’t know, relief?

“Sure!” she agreed, and her smile seemed genuine as she quickly went about making herself a cup. When she opened the fridge to get the creamer, I noticed there was nothing inside but bottles of water, green smoothies, and prepackaged fruits and salad.

“Healthy,” I observed when she caught me looking.

“Yeah.” Her smile faltered at that as she closed the door, then waved over toward the round two-seater dining table. White, of course.

“Do you guys get a lot of visitors?”

Ben had been the one to insist on meeting us at his place instead of some secondary location that both Dezi and I would have preferred. No one liked to be on someone else’s home turf. Especially someone as mysterious as Ben Dalton.

I was pretty sure I didn’t imagine the way her gaze flicked to one of the cameras.

“No, actually. You’re the first.”

No wonder she seemed so uncomfortable entertaining.

“It’s just the two of you all the way out here?”

We hadn’t seen a single other house anywhere nearby. And this deep in the woods, it almost felt eerie. Borderline freaky. Like some serial killer might come out from behind a tree with a chainsaw and chase you down. Where literally no one could hear you scream. Where no one could come help you.

Suddenly, my gaze cut back to Lolly. To her all-glass house with its hundreds of cameras inside and out. With a man who controlled everything from how she dressed (clearly), to what foods she ate, and what kind of plates she ate it off of.

And I couldn’t help but wonder if all the cameras were there to keep others out.

Or to keep her in.

She had a very clean, very safe, glass prison.

But I had no idea what her relationship was with her warden, if she was a willing inmate here, or if she didn’t have a choice.

I glanced down at her watch again, wondering if it did more than just track her steps and heart rate.

“So, you like the woods?” I asked, waving around at it all around us.

“They’re pretty. Lots of little animals around.”

“Are you from this area?”

“No, not really. I’m from about an hour away. I moved here when… Ben finished building it.”

She twirled her cup around in a circle, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you miss living closer to civilization?”

Her gaze flicked up.

And the answer was in her eyes even if she couldn’t bring her lips to say it.

“Lolly,” Ben’s voice called, making Lolly damn near jump out of her skin. “Another coffee?” he asked, his tone sharp.

I watched Lolly’s eyes go wide, panicked.

“I asked her to join me,” I explained.

Ben’s cold gaze moved from Lolly to me, then back again.

“What were you two talking about?”

“The woods, mostly,” I said. “We just sat down.”

“I’m ready for you now,” Ben said, his face a mask.

“That have sugar in it?” Dezi asked, reaching to take my coffee as I got up.

“No.”

“I can get you sugar,” Lolly said, popping up, even more anxious with her partner in the room.

I shared a look with Dezi, then turned and followed Ben toward the stairs.

I glanced back once, finding Lolly already watching me.

And I swear to fuck I could see the longing in her eyes.

For her freedom?

For me?

Maybe both.

But I was sure I’d never forget the way she looked at me now. And how it tugged at something deep inside me.