by Penelope Sky
I jumped away, my heart racing so quickly I thought I’d have a heart attack. I clutched my chest as I hyperventilated.
Fender stilled and watched me, his dark eyes visible in the light of the fire. “It’s me, chérie… It’s me.”
I took in his features and felt my breath start to slow. But the tears didn’t stop.
He gently reached for me again, this time his hand moving to my shoulder. His fingertips squeezed me lightly, his thumb brushing across my skin in a soothing motion. “A dream…just a dream.”
My breathing slowed once the threat was gone, when I understood it wasn’t real. But the tears amplified, the regret constricting my throat like I’d swallowed a baseball bat. “I wish I were dead.” I cupped my mouth to stifle the sobs. “I did this…I fucking did this. I hate myself. I can’t even look in the mirror because I hate what I see.” I dropped my gaze to the sheets, imagining the snow that looked and felt so real. Her blood was staining the ground, her guttural noises loud as the knife pierced her intestines. My eyes closed as the image radiated across my mind, causing my breath to halt in agony.
His hand moved into my hair to stroke me gently, to try to calm me in silence.
His touch just made me feel worse because I enjoyed it. I shouldn’t enjoy it. I shouldn’t want him there. I pushed his hand away and left the bed altogether, moving into the living room. I took a seat on the couch with my arms crossed over my chest and stomach, just trying to get through this emotional agony that was as potent as physical pain. It attacked my brain, my heart, everything. It was like losing blood in the snow, like I was the one in the noose. I closed my eyes and just tried to get through it.
The cushion shifted as he sat directly beside me. His hand didn’t move into my hair again. He didn’t touch me at all, just the way he used to in the cabin. “Why can’t you look in the mirror?” His voice had been harsh in our fight earlier that evening, but now it was soft like raindrops on a rose petal. “Why do you hate what you see?” He waited for me to answer his question, and when that didn’t happen, he gently prodded again. “Talk to me, chérie.”
I opened my eyes and looked at him, tears on my cheeks, my lips, in the corners of my eyes. “She’s there because of me. She wouldn’t let me leave alone because she loves me so much…and she would do it again even if she knew what would happen. She would give up her life for mine in a heartbeat.” I shook my head, my voice cracking with tears. “And I shit all over that. What kind of person am I? I’m living in this fucking palace and fucking the guy who keeps her there. I just abandoned her… She would never abandon me.”
He watched me with those dark eyes, his features expressionless. For the first time ever, he dropped his gaze and looked at the cushion between us. The intensity was gone from his gaze. He looked like a different person—just for an instant.
I looked at the coffee table and forced the tears to slow, forced myself to calm. Otherwise, I would get a migraine from this grief.
“Chérie.” His voice was cloaked in such affection, it was like he physically touched me, physically reached his hand out and grabbed mine.
I turned back to him.
“People think life is complicated, that we wind up in situations because of a series of decisions. People think they happen to life. But in reality, it happens to us. Life happened to both of you, Melanie. You can blame it on yourself, but you were targeted before you even knew it, and it was going to happen, regardless. Maybe that would have included her. Maybe it wouldn’t have. No way to know. Because life isn’t complicated. It’s very simple—and random. To assign guilt is pointless.”
“It’s more than that—”
“If Raven were in your position now, here with me, do you think her behavior would be any different?”
“Yes. She never would have slept with you. She never would have—”
“She’s sleeping with Magnus, so I don’t believe that. There’s literally nothing you can do for her. You can’t run. You can’t go to the police. All you can do is accept your reality. And you aren’t a bad person for enjoying it too.”
I dropped my gaze. “But I’m weak. I’m a weak person.” I was just baggage to her when we tried to escape. If I were smart, I would have understood my surroundings and not had been captured in the first place. If I were strong like Raven, I wouldn’t need Fender to make a fire.
“I don’t see what you see, chérie. I see a beautiful, kind, lovely woman. If you were anyone else, Gilbert would be unemployed right now. If you could die by your sister’s side, you would. You’re a woman who likes to be taken care of, and you shouldn’t apologize for it. You don’t deserve to feel guilty for being who you are. I love taking care of you. I want to take care of you every single day. I want to give you a life that you deserve. I wouldn’t want you any other way. That’s just how I am—and I won’t apologize for it.”
I looked at him again, seeing the confidence in his gaze, seeing a man who overwhelmed me with sincere compliments. “You’re the only one who has nice things to say about me.”
His eyes softened until they turned sympathetic. “Because I’m the only one who really knows you, chérie.”
My eyes started to water as I looked at him, for a variety of reasons. “If you really feel that way about me…please do this for me. You were right when you said I can’t run to her. I can’t go to the police. My sister would never give up on me if the situations were reversed, and the only way I can save her is if you agree to do this for me. So, if you feel anything for me…please.”
He held my gaze for a long time, his eyes still, his breathing nearly unnoticeable.
“I will always feel this way. I will always suffer. I will always wake up with nightmares of her with that rope around her neck. She will always be in the back of my mind, consuming my thoughts anytime I’m alone…even when I’m not alone.” My hand reached out to his, and I squeezed it between both of mine. Two tears dripped from my eyes and down my cheeks simultaneously. “Please…I beg you.”
His eyes slowly shifted away, looking at another point in the living room.
“You’re the boss. You can do whatever you want—”
“I told you I don’t negotiate. I don’t make exceptions—”
“You took me.”
“That’s different. The guards know exactly why I did that. To take her is a different scenario, especially after all the grief she’s caused—”
“The exception is not for her. It’s for me.” I squeezed his hand tighter. “She’s always going to fight. She’s always going to cause grief. Your life will be easier when she’s gone—think about it that way.”
He fell silent and didn’t look at me again.
“You’re my only hope, Fender.”
At the sound of his name, he turned back to me, his gaze hard.
“Take care of me. I’m asking you to take care of me.” I knew I was so close to changing his mind, securing the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world. My hands shook as they held on to him.
He stared for a long time before he spoke. “She will always stand between us. She will always haunt you. That is the only reason—”
“Thank you.” I jumped into him, my arms latching on for dear life. My body moved into his lap, and I clung to him like a lifeline.
He didn’t hug me back, remaining still as he felt me bury my face in his neck and cry. His arms eventually wrapped around me, his hand moving into my hair, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. His hand gently pulled me back so he could look at me. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’ll remove her from the camp, but I won’t let her go.”
I was disappointed but unsurprised. “Then where will she go?”
“On the estate in the guest quarters. You can go visit her, but she’ll never be permitted to enter our residence. Guards will watch her at all times. She’ll have everything she needs to be comfortable, but never freedom. That’s the extent of my generosity.”
She would just be a prisoner again, but in a l
uxurious setting. Raven would never accept that. “If the police will do nothing if she goes to them, and she’s no threat to you, then why not just release her?”
He stared me down long and hard, like the question angered him. “Because I don’t like her.” His tone darkened, his expression hardening and turning his countenance angry. “Appreciate my generosity. Because I’m being very generous, more generous than I’ve ever been in my life—for you.” He stared me down in expectation.
My arms remained wrapped around his neck, my face close to his, my ass in his lap on the couch. I knew Raven wouldn’t accept imprisonment in any format, but she would be taken care of, we would see each other every day, we would be safe for the rest of our lives. She would accept it eventually. She would appreciate what I’d done for her—that I saved her. “Thank you.”
Eighteen
The Catacombs
Fender
I spoke to Magnus on the phone inside my office. “Jacques has lifted the importation embargo from Colombia, so we can get what we needed through another medium.” All it took was some wining and dining, making the president feel like a major player in the game, to get what I wanted. Money wasn’t the only thing that mattered to him. Ego was even more important.
Magnus held his silence.
He was already on thin ice with me, so I didn’t appreciate his disapproval. “You have nothing to say?”
“If we lift the trade agreement, what’s to stop copycats?”
“Our guns.” I hung up because I couldn’t stand his bullshit a second longer.
Gilbert stepped in a moment later. “Sir, where will you be taking your lunch—”
“Here.” I tossed the phone across the desk.
“Of course,” he said with a nod. “Shall I tell Melanie you wish to be alone for the rest of the day?”
My immediate reaction was to dismiss her, but I didn’t mind having her around, even if we didn’t speak. Her presence was soothing to me. Her beauty distracted me. Made me forget about bullshit. “She’s always welcome.”
He gave a bow then departed.
When I’d woken up that morning, I wanted to take back my offer.
I shouldn’t have caved.
I allowed her to make me weak. I allowed her to turn me soft. But when I heard her nighttime screams, I came running without hesitation. I watched her tears pour down her face and wished I could take it all away. I wished I could give her only joy. I wanted to take care of my chérie, and watching her fall into despair told me how much I’d failed.
I fucking failed.
Now I couldn’t take back what I promised. I couldn’t go back on my word to her. I had to see this through, pull out that obnoxious bitch and replace her with someone else, only to have her live on my property, to be fed and clothed for the rest of her life.
And I had to foot the bill.
But there was no other way.
Raven was the thorn in my side, the cinder block in the road, the bullet lodged deep into my flesh.
Heels tapped against the hard floor outside the open doorway, growing louder as Melanie approached. She had a slow gait, taking her time as if she had nowhere to be or whoever expected her presence would wait a lifetime.
I’d wait several lifetimes.
My back was sunk into the armchair, my fingers curled into a fist against my chin, my elbow on the leather armrest. My eyes took her in as she stepped inside, holding a book in one hand, wearing a pale blue dress with matching heels. Her only responsibility as a resident was to wear the beautiful clothes I provided, the diamonds, the finer things in life that most people didn’t even know existed.
She halted on the rug and examined me. Her eyes absorbed my appearance, my mood, everything about me. That told her everything she needed to know. She silently took a seat and opened her book to read.
Not speaking a word to me.
My eyes didn’t turn back to my phone or laptop because they were glued to her cheek, seeing the way her hair naturally fell forward when her chin dropped, and she had to push it back, only for it to fall once more. Her beauty was paralyzing to me, like the strongest nuclear weapon on the planet. In silence, it could obliterate every thought that came to mind with an invisible power.
I’d always be angry about the compromise she’d forced me to make.
But it was worth it.
I worked through lunch. Took phone calls. When Magnus called back later, I picked up then hung up immediately, just to make my anger palpable. I could have ignored the call for the same effect, but I wanted it to sting.
I sank back into my chair, thinking things over, and my eyes focused on her like she was a painting on the wall right in front of me. My eyes lingered a long time before I shut my laptop and moved to the couch across from her.
When she heard me, she looked up from her book. She regarded me for a while before she closed her book without inserting a bookmark and set it on the table. She was still reading The Count of Monte Cristo. It was a long book, so it was no surprise that it was still in her hands. She straightened with the poise Gilbert had instilled in her then dropped her chin to regard her hands on her knee, her fingernails painted with French tips.
The fire continued to burn hot in the hearth because Gilbert had silently entered the office and continued to feed it without either one of us noticing, being the shadow on the wall that had no real presence. It was another day of rain, and it was audible even though we were on the ground floor. The raindrops splattered against the windows, leaving tears on the glass that streaked down like the ones on her cheeks last night.
I leaned forward with my forearms on my thighs, one hand encompassing the other. Whenever I was with her, my mind turned empty, devoid of objects, light, feelings. Normally, it was saturated with more shit than I could contain, but she brought me peace that was akin to nothingness. To not think, to not feel, it was like meditation.
She lifted her chin and looked at me. “When will my sister be here?” It was a question she’d probably wanted to ask since last night, but she could only restrain herself so long.
Peace was shattered. “When I return to the camp.”
“When will that be?”
“When I decide to return.” I never made plans further than a few days into the future. Life was uncontrollable, so I just went with it, not against it.
Disappointment filled her gaze. “Like in a few weeks?”
My eyes narrowed on her face.
She quickly dropped her look. “I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m afraid she’ll be dead by then.”
“Magnus saved her neck twice. No reason he wouldn’t do it a third time.”
She inhaled a deep breath and slowly released it, her eyes closing briefly. When she was ready, she looked at me again, showing me those brilliant blue eyes that were like sapphires to complement her diamonds. “I’ll feel a lot better when she’s here, but…I don’t think the nightmares will ever stop.”
“Nightmares are part of the human experience.” I had them often, the same premise happening in different ways. Sometimes I was a grown man who came into my family home and stopped my father from killing my family, beating him with my bare fists before making him eat his gun. Sometimes I was the helpless teenager that was just skin and bones, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do for my family—not even Magnus. Decades had passed, and it still haunted me like it was yesterday. I gave my father a death no one deserved, but that failed to bring me peace.
She was the only thing that did.
She looked down again, her little fingers moving together slightly. When she turned her head, it showed how slender her neck was, the little vein that rose to her jawline, the soft and delicious skin that tempted my tongue. “You have nightmares?” She looked up again to see my reaction.
“Yes.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t have nightmares…if I were next to you.”
My expression didn’t convey my annoyance. I remained as stoic as ever, but I knew exactly what her endgam
e was.
“Because if I were beside you…I don’t think I would.” She approached the situation differently, coming from an angle she hoped I wouldn’t see.
Chérie, I see everything.
She waited for my response, and the longer it didn’t come, the more her eyes sank. “You can trust me—”
“I don’t trust anybody.” Like razor blades, the words left my mouth and sliced through the air. “It has nothing to do with you. How many times do I have to say it?”
Her eyes winced, like I’d just cut her deeply. “You said the safest place in the world is with you. How am I supposed to feel safe if I’m down the hall in a freezing cold bed—”
“Then I’ll fuck you there. Problem solved.”
She winced again.
My anger was inconsolable at this point. When I gave her a little string, she wanted the entire rope. She tugged and tugged, having an entitlement she never earned. “You ask me for more when all I should be getting is your gratitude. You should be on your fucking knees thanking me for the sacrifice I made for you.” I couldn’t keep my voice down like usual. It was one of the rare times when I actually yelled right in her face, when my ferocity hit her shores like a goddamn hurricane. “You have no idea what it will cost me. I woke up today wishing I could take it all back, but I’m a man of my word, so I won’t break my promise to you.”
She breathed hard as she absorbed the wind and the hail, eventually dropping her gaze entirely because the intimacy between our eyes was just too much. Bumps formed on her skin like she was cold, and she absent-mindedly crossed her arms over her chest to protect herself from my wrath.
I was used to yelling at people—but not her. There was no regret, only more anger because she’d forced me to do what I’d rather avoid. My obsession with this woman was obvious to everyone, including her, but I wasn’t a fucking pushover. I wouldn’t give in to every demand she asked for, not when I already gave her the world.
She didn’t rise and depart my office. She remained in the same position, just breathing.
