Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,236

slips into place. I know I’m being a bit bad, but technically there’s no rule against it.

For the past hour, I’ve been looking around the house, trying to figure out what Joseph’s hiding. I know he’s hiding something. A part of me is scared to find out. And the other part of me is hoping that I’m just being paranoid. I bite down on the inside of my cheek. He won’t tell me about his past. Or whatever the hell makes him hideaway in his study. I’m sure as fuck not gonna sit around waiting.

The wooden floor creaks in the hallway under my weight the second I slip out of my room. Dammit. I’m not the best at being quiet. My heart stills and I stand frozen in the hallway, glaring at the wooden floorboards. After a moment, I straighten and continue on into his room. I practically tip toe, my tongue stuck between my teeth as I sneak into his room. I love it in here. It’s so ... him.

Furtively, I’m looking around, wondering where I should start first, my heart pounding in my chest. I don’t have much time. I don’t know when Joseph will come out of his study, so I need to move quickly. I should hear him. I keep telling myself. I will definitely hear him when he comes up the stairs.

I purse my lips, as I walk over to his dresser and start digging through it. I go through five drawers, but don’t find anything but neatly folded clothes. Where else do people hide shit? I figured the dresser would be a gold mind. That’s where I hide all my shit. I shut the last drawer feeling a little let down. I look up and spot his bed, a smile curling on my lips. The mattress. I search underneath the bed and then push my hand underneath the mattress between the box spring. I’m weak as shit and holding it up actually makes me winded. Nothing.

“Come on,” I mutter, looking around the room frantically, “everyone hides something under the mattress.”

I get down on my hands and knees and look under the bed again. He’s gotta have something somewhere.

I search the nightstands. Nothing again.

Frustrated, I stop and place my hands on my hips, biting my lower lip and thinking.

If I had a big house like this, would I hide anything in my bedroom? I mean, how stupid would that be? Maybe I’m in the wrong room. I sure as fuck can’t search his study though. Not while he’s in there at least.

I’m about to give up and leave the room when my eyes fall on the closet. The door is slightly ajar and the light is on inside. My pulse picks up speed as I stare at it. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it already. I used to hide in the closets. The thought makes my heart hurt.

It’s where I found my mother. I think she wanted me to find her before my father did.

He used to tell me how much I looked like her, until she killed herself. Then I could see that look in his eyes, I knew it was what he was thinking, but he never said it again.

I know that’s why he doesn’t see me much; I remind him of her. I know it hurts him. I understand it. He still loves me and I love him. Even if our family is scarred from what my mother did.

I bite my lower lip, shoving the sad memory back where it belongs, in the past, debating on whether I should go digging around more. I’ve already been looking for the past half hour, and Joseph doesn’t spend very long on his own.

I should leave, I tell myself. I’m not going to find anything in there anyway.

I start to walk out of the room, but when I reach the doorway, I can’t bring myself to leave without at least checking the closet. Though I know that I probably won’t find anything, who knows when I’ll have another chance like this.

I spin around on my heel and walk quickly to the closet, swinging the door wide as I walk inside. It bangs against the wall and I wince at the sound. I don’t think he’ll hear it though. Damn my eager ass.

Not wasting a second, I quickly go about inspecting the large closet, but I have to pause to suck in a sharp breath at the sight before me. Jesus Christ. He has