by Bry Ann
Silence consumes the room. She’s the one to break it this time.
“Do you still have those grey sweats?”
My head flies back. What?
“Uh, yes. I do. Why?”
She shrugs.
“No, you asked for a reason. That was very random. Why do you want to know?”
“I…” she pulls the covers up over her mouth again, it’s a nervous tick she’s recently developed, “it makes you more human,” she says quietly.
I feel my eyes widen. “If I change, would that make you more comfortable?”
Slowly, she nods.
Honestly, I practically run over to the closet, throw off my clothes, watches, rings and grab a pair of grey sweats and a white cotton t-shirt. When I walk back in Lacey isn’t on the bed. Immediately I panic. Fuck. He said to keep an eye on her!
“Lacey!” I scream, doing nothing to hide the panic from my voice.
From the far left corner of the room, a pair of grey eyes pops up over the mattress and then disappears.
“Here.”
My shoulders slump as I let out a deep breath. “Jesus Christ Lacey. You terrified me.”
I walk around the bed. My hands ball into fists when I see her.
“What are you doing?!” I try not to yell.
She shrugs.
“Lacey, no. What are you doing?”
She’s in the nook between the dresser and the bed, the one I found her in before. I don’t like her there. Hiding.
“I like the closed space.”
I crouch in front of her. I don’t miss the way she involuntarily shifts back. My hand traces over her cheek.
“Is there anything… anything that would make you happy? Even the littlest bit. I’d do it. I’d do anything.”
Her eyes go wide with shock.
“I...” she clamps her mouth shut and shuts back down.
“No Lacey! Come back. What would make you happy? You were going to say something.”
“I need help with something,” she says so quietly I have to lean forward to hear her.
“What little dove? Anything.”
“I'm scared.”
“I know.”
“No!” Tears fall fast down her cheeks. “I’m…” so much shame clouds her eyes as she hides her face from me.
“I'm scared to leave.”
I feel a spark through my body. “Leave?”
“Safe rooms. Here. The cabin. I miss… sun. I'm scared.”
Of course. Fuck. She’s getting agoraphobia. It makes perfect sense.
“How can I help you, Lace? Don’t be embarrassed.”
Her face falls further into her chest as she shifts further into the corner.
“I… um…”
“Lacey.”
How is she so strong when it comes to her friends or pain, but so terrified when it comes to her own happiness?
“I want to go outside. Sit in the sun. I’ve done it. The cabin was a hike, but… I got sick then and had… had a panic attack. I want to be free, but my mind is…”
“You think I can help you?”
Her mouth twists. “I know you can.”
That makes me smile.
“I'm no medical professional Lacey. I don’t know the first thing about mental health.”
Her eyes flicker.
“Just say it, Lacey.”
“I think you do.”
I cock an eyebrow.
“You don’t have mental issues?” She pauses and looks at me, one lock of hair falling to cover half her face. “Come on.”
Her lips turn up. She tries to hold back, but one of her soft giggles escapes her lips. Then it turns into quiet bits of laughter. For a man like me she just laid out the ultimate insult, but all I can think about is how hearing her laugh right now is the best sound I’ve ever heard. I feel myself smiling. I shake my head.
“Come on Lacey.”
I stand and extend my hand. She looks at it. Her face is lighter from the laughter. It’s the fucking best I’ve felt in… geez, I don’t know how long.
“Now?”
When she realizes that’s exactly what I mean her eyes go wide.
“We’ll start now. We’ll do little bits every day. Until you get comfortable again.”
Her eyes water, but she turns away. “That’s a lot to ask of you.”
“Psh, it’s the least I can do. Come on. Be brave.”
Her head whips up so fast I'm surprised she didn’t hurt her neck. Her mouth is tight and eyebrows furrowed. She’s offended. Quickly she lifts her arm. I chuckle to myself. That’s my girl.
I take it and help her to her feet. She sways a bit so my hand whips out and grabs her hip.
“I got it. Thank you,” she says, taking a step back. I nod and accept her desire to not be touched.
“Sorry Lacey, but I have to change. My men can’t see my like this.” I gesture to my clothes.
Her eyes trail up and down my body. My dick involuntarily, and inappropriately, hardens under her gaze. Finally, she makes her way up to my face. With the tiniest of smiles, she nods. I chuckle and walk away. As I throw on my suit, rings and watch, I realize I'm terrified for the day she gets healthy.
She’ll leave me.
I walk back out and look her up and down, taking in her filthy, oversized grey sweat outfit.
“We need to order you new clothes today. You’ve had the same clothes for three days. They are filthy.”
She practically sprints backward, crashing back into the dresser.
“Please. I ca…”
“Lacey. It was a question. Not a demand. I'm not forcing you to wear anything you don’t want to. Dirty sweat outfit it is, alright?”
Her whole body slumps in relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. It’s your choice what you wear.”
She stills and looks at me like I just appeared in front of her. Slowly, she pushes off the dresser.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
I walk to the door and throw it open. I extend a hand. “After you.”
Slowly she walks forward, never taking her eyes off me. After she’s out she steps to the side and waits for me. She doesn’t understand she’s free here now. I’ll make her understand. I fight the urge to place my hand on her lower back.
“Go ahead,” I tell her.
I want her to lead. The mild panic on her face tells me I'm doing the right thing. Not wanting to seem scared, she does. She does well until she gets to the end of the hall where two of my men guard the hall to my room during the afternoon. The times I'm not usually there. Like I said, security is everything. I don’t take risks.
The second she lays eyes on them, she gasps and scampers backward, running straight into me. I place my hand on her shoulder.
“They won’t hurt you.”
She looks at me over her shoulder. I can’t see her because of the hair covering her face like a shield. Tentatively, she steps forward. I see her hands become tiny fists when she passes them. They look at me. I nod saying to keep as they are.
“Turn left,” I say when we get to the kitchen.
The rest of the way I give her directions to the back door. Our backyard is huge and stunning. It’s a shame I don’t visit it more. She stops when she reaches the door. She places her hand on the doorframe, being careful of the glass. She looks outside like it’s a place she longs to be, but can’t.
I don’t like it.
I grab the door and swing it open. The sunlight floods my dark house and heats my cold skin.
“Lacey, come here.”
I extend my hand. She looks at my rings, tattoos, watch and then finally my hand. She looks ready to step away, but despite the hesitation in her eyes, her hand reaches forward and finds mine. I grab it and rub my thumb along her palm, trying to comfort her. Based on the way her eyes widen, she knows exactly what I'm doing.
“Ready?”
She nods. I gently pull her. Her feet, covered only in socks, land on the
brick patio. Her hand tightens around mine.
“You’re safe Lacey,” I whisper.
“Mmm-hmm,” she answers tightly. She looks pale. I really want to take it easy on her today.
“No one will hurt you out here,” I say as softly as I can. After speaking with the doctor, I am terrified to say the wrong thing.
She squeezes her eyes tight like she’s blocking a memory. She starts to shake slightly. Her hand tries desperately to pull out of mine. I know exactly the memory flashing through her mind. Then I remember when she borrowed herself against the wall. It’s me. Me hurting her. I close my eyes and turn from her so she doesn’t see me nearly lose it.
“Follow me.”
I walk forward. I take her to the benches by the pond. She sits quickly, but not on the stone benches. Oh no. She sits right by the pond and sticks her hand in the dirty water. Looking with bright eyes at the koi fish swimming around. She’s a human being trying to find connection to life. Her childlike wonder inspires me in a way I’d never been before. I sit next to her. Criss cross. In the dirt. In my thousand dollar suit. In this moment, peace.
She pulls her hands out of the water and wipes them on her pants. It’s mildly disgusting, but she cares so little I don’t have it in me to care either. For a long time, she sits there, watching the fish swim around. I don’t say anything, not wanting to disturb her peace. Once in a while I see her gaze flicker to the door and her hand fly over her throat, but she always fights it. Always on her own.
Finally, she stands, hands still hovering above around her neck.
“We can go inside now.”
I stand. “Can we? Thank you.”
She looks at me, unsure if she’s allowed to be annoyed. But she is. She scampers off ahead of me. I don’t notice how heavily she was holding her breath until we are back inside and she sucks in air like she’s been without it for a while. She slumps back against the wall. She looks pale, her eyes are glazed over and rimmed with dark circles. Frankly, she looks exhausted from the simple task. I frown. I’d have to ask the doctor about this.
“Do you want something to eat?”
She nods, again slow. Like she’s not sure if she’s allowed.
“Okay, come on.”
I wave my hand for her to follow, but I don’t leave her side. She looks unsteady on her feet. I just want to be sure, although I'm sure she’s stayed standing under a lot worse circumstances.
I lead her into the kitchen and stop there. She looks at me, confusion written all over her face. Between the way she pulls away and how tight her face is, I can tell she has no clue what I'm doing and that scares her. She stands there like she’s waiting for me to keep moving, but I'm not going anywhere. She needs to understand she’s not a prisoner here. Not anymore. I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose, before opening them again only to be met with her stiff, frail form.
I step to the left and extend my arm, gesturing to the refrigerator.
“What do you want?”
This seems to really blow her mind.
“You want me to pick dinner?”
Her gaze flickers between me and the chair.
“Yes. Use the kitchen anytime you want. It’s dinner now. See what you want to have. Of course, we have a maid so you don’t really need to worry about cooking. Unless of course, you want to. That said, go at it.
She stares at me for a long moment, unblinking. Finally, she speaks.
“I don’t understand.”
“I guess I'm not clear what you’re not getting,” I say as I grab a chair and drag it over for her to sit on.
She mumbles a thank you and takes a seat. She looks... off.
“I mean. Why? Why let me choose what I want to eat? Why take me back in the first place? You’re having to pay for me, feed me, essentially take care of me right now. I know I'm not well. I'm aware, trust me. What’s the end game here? I need to know. Please. Give me that. Give me that one thing. You can take everything else away… just,” she lets out a frustrated sigh, “what do you want with me?”
“I just want you better Lacey. I have to help you.”
“It won’t fix anything. Damn it!”
Her weak fists slam on the granite counter. I'm so shocked I barely get my next sentence out.
“I know Lacey,” I say quietly. “I'm just here to help.”
“I don’t believe you. I don’t trust you!”
Of course, never once slipping and saying my name out in public. Even when angry. Never once betraying my trust, like I’ve betrayed hers. She’s standing now, breathing heavy.
“Trouble in paradise?”
Both of us whip around to see Sven standing in the doorway. He has that overconfident smirk on his face, but there’s a pain behind it. The pain he’s trying so desperately to hide.
“Out!” I shout. “Get the fuck out of here.”
He raises his hands and spins around, mumbling to himself. He’s lucky as shit I didn’t hear what he said. Once he leaves I turn back to Lacey.
“You have no reason to trust me. No reason to believe a God damn word I say, but I swear I have no end game here. I have no intention of hurting you. I don’t know what I'm doing. I'm just trying to help, and in case you haven’t noticed, that is not something I'm used to.”
This seems to break through to her. Slowly she walks to the fridge and opens it. Her eyes widen when she sees the selection of food. Her pupils frantically bouncing around trying to take everything in.
“Do you have bread?” she finally asks, quietly. Back to the subdued person I'm used to.
“Yes of course.”
“Um,” her cheeks turn red, “Can I have grilled cheese? I’ll make it. I just… well, it was Jamie’s favorite.”
I look at her and smirk. When was the last time anyone in this fucking house had a grilled cheese sandwich?
“Of course. I’ll let the staff know.”
“I can make it. I just… are you sure?”
“Yes, I'm sure. You can have it anytime you want. Come here.”
I gesture to the pantry which is fully stocked with protein bars, powder, dried fruit, jerky, nuts, seeds, anything healthy thing you can think of really.
“Grab snacks anytime you’re hungry. I don’t have to be there. This house is safe. I promise. And you have free reign. If anyone makes you uncomfortable you come to me. I’ll sort it out. See anything that’s not in here that you want?”
“I think it would take me days to find out what’s not in here.”
I laugh as I rattle a text to my staff about the grilled cheese.
“Where do you want to eat?”
Again, shock registers on her face. I want her to be taken care of, but given freedom. Freedom, meaning she doesn’t have to look over her shoulder and keep her guard up 24/7. I want her to relearn how to make basic decisions. And feel confident in those decisions. That’s step one here.
“Anywhere’s fine.”
“I was thinking we could sit on the bed, eat grilled cheese sandwiches and you could pick out some new clothes.”
The smile that lights up her entire face makes every demon in my soul recoil. A light spreads throughout my body. One that’s been so far buried I thought it had been extinguished. I'm reminded of the happiness I used to feel with my mother. Before the role of running this family fell on my shoulders. I’d do this every freaking day it made her look this happy.
“Would you like that?”
“Yes please,” she whispers, looking down at the ground and smiling. Even through her hair, I can see her smile.
“Then it’s a plan, Lacey.”
Her feet shift on the ground.
“Thank you, Adam,” she whispers ever so softly. In a voice no one else can hear. All I can think is God I want to kiss her. But I’d never do that to her.
Never again.
Cause that’s how I hurt her worst of all.
Chapter 11:
Sven:
Boss is so fucking in love. He’s sc
rewed. Lacey has no idea either. She’s still scared of him. Still angry at him. Still hurt. Still broken. She’s a bomb waiting to go off with all the emotions she’s got buried deep inside of her.
I go straight to my room. My appetite is fucking gone. I feel a little… I don’t fucking know. It’s interesting I guess. I’ve always had some kind of plan. A game. But now… well, I was supposed to try and take over Bosses position. Now I know I need to learn from him. I was supposed to have Rose, but something happened and now I can’t take her. I can’t hurt, much less kill her brother. The one she doesn’t know about, but desperately needs.
I flop back on my bad and throw the back of my hand over my face. This feeling is not fun. It fucking sucks actually. I’ll find something else but…
Ring! Ring! Ring!
Grumbling, I pull my phone out of my pocket.
“What?” I snap into the phone. I'm so fucking done with today.
“I’d drop the attitude. I think you’ll want to take my call.”
I shoot out of the bed so fast I'm pretty sure I miss sitting and go straight to standing.
“The fuck? Is this Nix?”
The dead last person I ever expected to hear from.
“What do you want?”
Is he trying to torture me? There’s a pause as he debates his next words.
“I'm with Rose,” No shit, “Look. If you cross us you will have me to deal with, and trust me, you don’t want that. But I don’t think you will. Despite how I feel about it, I think you have genuine feelings for Rose. I don’t think you want to hurt her. I also don’t think you want to force her to be with you anymore. And I know you won’t kill me. If you feel anything at all for her, you wouldn’t kill the only living family member who gives a genuine damn about her.”
“Get to the damn point here Nix,” I growl.
“Rose needs closure on this. I don’t know what the fuck she feels for you, but it’s eating her alive. Literally. I can’t get her to eat to meet her needs, and she’s wasting away in front of me. The stress of all this is killing her. Also, it’s no life for her on the run. To always be looking over her shoulder. Her dad should be enough criminal for her to deal with, without having to deal with you too.”
“What do you mean by that?”
The chance to talk to her is all I’ve wanted since she left, but all I can hear is the alternate meaning in Nix’s words. The way he worded that shit about her father. She’s in trouble.
