Damien's POV
Aria refuses to get out of the car. She holds on to the seatbelt like a lifeline, glaring harshly at me through the open door.
"I am not staying in this creepy prison with you." Her eyes twinkle under the dim lights, just like her mother's. "Take me to my dorm."
"We have talked about this, Aria," I sigh, feeling a headache coming on. This is the reason I steer clear of young adults. They are so loud and annoyingly stubborn.
What the hell has Richard gotten me into?
"Aria…"
"I'll scream bloody murder if you don't let me go."
"In a private garage?" You can try." I angle my head, watching her with boredom ebbing at me, on purpose. The coat slips again from her chest, and her perky nipples come into view.
Swallowing hard, I pull my gaze away, feeling the sudden warmth settling in the pit of my stomach. Ignoring it, I close my door shut and walk around the car, pulling her side open.
"Out, Aria."
"You can't make me." She huffs and wraps her arms around her frame, staring straight ahead.
"Fine." I move without warning, hooking an arm behind her knees and another at her back. I pull her out of the car and lift her easily in my arms, striding towards the entrance of my newly acquired building.
"Stop it!" She yells, her fists tapping my shoulders in rhythm with the rain tapping the roof. She weighs almost practically nothing, and not even her tapping can slow down my movement.
A memory surfaces as I push through the doors. It is one of her in pigtails and a popsicle in her mouth. I remember how she said I wasn't a fun adult since I was always frowning, and then, mere minutes later, she fell asleep on my chest in front of a horrible cartoon.
Winnie the Pooh.
She loved it.
"Put me down!" Aria screams. "This is kidnapping."
"Technically, it is me being your guardian," I murmur, getting into the elevator.
"I don't need a guardian!"
"You do. You either don't just know it yet, or are too proud to admit it."
I don't put her down, and neither does she stop thrashing until the doors spring open to the penthouse. Setting her on her feet, I step back and point towards a door down the hallway.
"Bathroom is through there. The closet is stocked with everything you will need. Your classes start at eight tomorrow, and the driver will be here at seven-thirty. I will pick you up after the bookstore."
"You sure have everything covered. Tell me that you know what size of underwear I wear, too."
I stop, my eyes slowly covering every inch of her damp body before returning to her eyes. "Get out of those damp cloths before you die of pneumonia."
"You can't order me around!" she counters, glaring daggers in my direction. I have faced worse.
"Then be my guest. But you take that off, and I will know. You leave this house without permission, and I will know. You break curfew and…"
"There will be consequences?" She blurts.
"You are learning fast."
Aria takes a step closer. She's so tiny, yet she manages to fill the room with her presence. "What kind of consequences, Damien?"
The way she says my name tugs at me, like a line of prayer. My pulse does something I have no name for yet, and I ignore it, as well as I do with other inconsequential parts of my life.
"Ones you won't like." My voice comes out throaty, and her eyes darken. I should take a step back. I don't.
A loud silence permeates the room, and for a second, it feels like one of us is going to step out of line. But Aria sighs, her eyes flicking to the window, to the city alive below.
"I don't like any of this. I don't need a new jailer."
"You needed me tonight," I remind her, quietly.
We stare at each other, my face expressionless and hers, livid. After what seems like an eternity, she stalks past me to the bathroom. The door clicks shut behind her, but only when I hear the sound of water hitting tiles that I exhale.
Walking to the hallway table, I slip the spare keycard onto it. This shouldn't be a prison for her, but at the same time, she shouldn't cross me.
Back in the living room, I grab my phone and load up the security cameras, sliding through the clips from the bookstore to the alley until I find it.
The van.
I freeze the clip with the scarred man's face and take a screenshot. Then, I bring my phone to my ear. The guy on the other end picks up after the first ring.
"Find him."
Within two minutes, a response comes in. ID in progress.
My other phone goes through a list. The perimeter cleared out. The staff dismissed. The cleaners are arriving tomorrow at ten. I am finally alone.
Well, not totally alone. A grumpy and feisty college student now lives with me.
The bathroom door opens, and Aria walks out barefoot in a thin white tank top and shorts that are barely modest. There are water beads on her collarbone, and my eyes trace them until they disappear beneath the top.
"Damien…"
"Go to bed, Aria," I mutter, "And lock the door."
She sighs and walks away. I hear the door to the guest room close, but the lock does not slide into place.
I give it a minute. Two, because I am generous. The pendant on her neck pings against my wristwatch. Penthouse. Suite B. Connected.
Another ding, but on my phone. It is from R. Melendez.
"Status?"
I respond. "We will talk by 4 am."
The pendant pings on my wrist again. Louder this time, and a different tone.
Alert: latch open.
I look back at the hallway, but the door is still shut.
"Aria." I get on my feet and stride into the hallway. "Don't."
Silence.
The alert comes again.
Signal lost.