Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“It means I'm going to lock the doors. It means that I have cameras set up. It means I'll board up anything you might break and make sure you have all that you need, but no way out.” His hand comes up, and I flinch, but he just tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with surprising gentleness.
If he is my protective captor, he hasn't broken character yet.
“I know what you're thinking, Bianca, but I'm telling you now—don't try it.”
“You can't keep me prisoner here,” I whisper.
“I can and I will, because out there you're in danger. Here you're safe. I know you don't believe it yet, but you will.” He takes a breath and sits on the sofa, pulling a pair of shoes toward him. “I'll be gone for two, three hours at the most. And when I come back, we'll talk about why you're here, about what's happening.”
“Tell me now.”
“I couldn't. No. Because you'd argue… I'd get angry, and I don't want to leave like that.”
Something flickers in his eyes. Concern? Regret?
“Ashland.”
He looks up at the sound of his name. I don't even know why I said it. What do I want from him?
“I…” I swallow. “How do I know you'll come back?”
The question surprises me as much as it seems to surprise him. I hate the idea that he took me, but being alone in a place like this indefinitely…
His expression softens. “I'll always come back, Bianca. That's a promise.”
Then he's moving through the cabin, and I'm rooted to the spot, listening to the sounds of him securing the place. He walks over and takes me by the elbow. “Sit down a minute, please.”
I hear the click of locks, the thud of something heavy being moved. He's thorough and methodical, as every exit, every window, every possible escape route is secured.
Finally, he comes back to where I'm sitting.
“There's food in the fridge and books on the shelves. I'll bring back what the cat needs. He's alright for now?”
I nod. “We'll make do for now. He's adaptable, for the time being.”
Kind of like me.
Ashland's eyes darken. “Now you won’t do anything stupid, will you?”
“And if I do?”
Why did I say that?
He winks at me. Actually fucking winks, and my heart tumbles in my chest because why is that so hot?
“Then you'll answer to me when I get back, won't you? Trust me, I don't know if you want that, do you?”
“But you said—”
“I won’t hurt you. But you might be pleasantly surprised by your response to a little well-placed discipline.”
He moves to the front door, and I follow him, keeping my distance. I watch as he pulls it open, revealing trees. Morning light filters through, and I can hear birds singing.
Freedom is right there. So close.
But he's blocking the doorway—all six-foot-whatever of him, tattooed and dangerous, watching me like he knows exactly what I'm thinking.
“Behave yourself, sweet girl.”
Then he's gone.
I hear a lock click, then another, then something else—like a bar or bolt sliding into place.
And I'm alone.
For the first time since he took me, I'm completely, utterly alone.
I count to sixty in my head. Once, twice, three times.
Ten minutes pass.
And when I'm positive he's gone, I spring into action.
I am getting out of here.
I go to the back door first. Locked, just like he said. And of course, when I rattle the handle, it doesn't budge.
The windows are small, deep-set in stone walls. I try to open one in the kitchen, but it won't move. I examine it more closely and see fresh screws in the frame.
He screwed them fucking shut.
The front door? Forget that. There's obviously something barricading it from the outside.
Think, Bianca. Think.
I go to the bedroom and look through the closet, finding nothing but a few clothes meant for me. The bathroom window is a tiny pane of frosted glass.
There has to be a way out.
Lancelot winds between my ankles. “You're no help.”
But as I sit there, my mind begins to work through the problem logically. He said he'd be gone two to three hours. Not much time, but it's something. He's thorough, yes, but he's not perfect. Is he?
I just have to find the weakness. The way out.
I stand up, square my shoulders, and start my search again, this time more carefully, knowing there's no rush. I can take my time.
Because I'm not staying here.
When he comes back, he's going to realize that I'm not his to keep.
Chapter Eleven
Ashland
Normally, I like my cousin's house. The McCarthy family mansion sits, formidable and majestic, behind wrought iron gates in Ballyhock, just outside of Dublin. And goddamn, I miss my brother Lorcan. We were always tight, but even more so now that Donovan’s gone. And I hate keeping anything from him.
But today, all I can think about is Bianca, alone and probably frightened.
Definitely trying to escape.