Uncovering You 9: Liberation

by Scarlett Edwards

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Uncovering You Series

  New to the series? Boxed Set offer

  News from Scarlett

  Uncovering You 9: Liberation

  Book Description

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  The End

  News from Scarlett

  Copyright

  UNCOVERING YOU SERIES:

  ~

  UNCOVERING YOU 1: The Contract

  UNCOVERING YOU 2: Submission

  UNCOVERING YOU 3: Resistance

  UNCOVERING YOU 4: Retribution

  UNCOVERING YOU 5: Confessions

  UNCOVERING YOU 6: Deliverance

  UNCOVERING YOU 7: Resurrection

  UNCOVERING YOU 8: Redemption

  UNCOVERING YOU 9: Liberation

  UNCOVERING YOU 10: The Finale ~ COMING MARCH 2015

  ~

  New to the series?

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  Uncovering You: The Complete First Boxed Set

  Uncovering You Description:

  When I wake up in a dark, unfamiliar room, I have no idea what's waiting for me in the shadows. My imagination conjures up demons of the worst kind.

  Reality is much worse:

  A collar with no leash. A prison with no walls. And a life stripped of meaning.

  I am presented with a vile contract and asked to sign. It outlines the terms of my servitude. The only information I have about my captor are the two small letters inked at the bottom:

  J.S.

  Armed with only my memories, I must do everything I can to avoid becoming ensnared in his twisted mind games. But in the end, it all comes down to one choice:

  Resist and die.

  Or submit, and sign my life away.

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  Uncovering You 9:

  Liberation

  by Scarlett Edwards

  2015

  EDWARDS PUBLISHING

  Reader Warning:

  Uncovering You contains scenes of intense emotional and physical abuse. Readers with sensitivity to such subjects are advised to proceed with caution.

  Book Description:

  Take a gun. Point it at your head. Pull the trigger.

  Boom.

  Is it loaded? You never know.

  Putting my life in Jeremy Stonehart's hands is like that. We're playing a game of Russian roulette. He tests my feelings, pushes me to my limits, and then brings me back.

  I can leave, but I do not.

  I am waiting for the gun to go off, waiting to know if there is a bullet inside, waiting to find out whether I have Jeremy... Or Stonehart.

  And so, only in the moment of truth will I discover whether I've achieved liberation—or oblivion.

  Chapter One

  Equilibrium. Peace. Happiness.

  That is what I have with Jeremy Stonehart, lodged away at the top of some remote mountain.

  There are no interruptions on our time together. No outside demands. It’s just him and me, and nothing else.

  There are no intrusions from the outside world. No pressures. No expectations. No questions, no uncertainties.

  Just a man and a woman, truly in love, spending time with each other and requiring nothing more.

  Of course, I know it cannot last. This is our second getaway into a paradise like this. Into a little corner of the world where nothing exists, where time itself seems to slow and lose meaning.

  Jeremy takes me skiing. I’ve never been. He teaches me. It frightens me at first. The slopes are so intimidating. The ease with which he maneuvers past obstacles and trees is unbelievable. But, just like the time he taught me to dance, Jeremy is a consummate teacher. I pick it up fast. In no time, I can hold my balance and follow him down some of the less graded, snow-covered hills.

  Our nights are spent making love by the roaring flames of a grand fireplace. Our thirst for each other is insatiable. It is heightened even more by the outdoor activities of each passing day.

  In short, my life feels miraculous. There have been no relapses—either for him, or for me. He has stayed Jeremy the whole time, not once drifting back into Stonehart. And I have suffered no panic attacks, no fainting episodes symptomatic of my condition.

  But, in time, all good things must come to an end. Jeremy took time off to spend with me. However, even he does not have the luxury of staying away from the demands of Stonehart Industries—even if he is the largest shareholder.

  He told me more about the IPO. It was a smashing success. He’d crushed all those within the company who had tried to wrestle control from his hands. The opening stock price was nearly two times higher than even the most optimistic predictions. The surrounding rumors had been quashed. There was nothing overtly shady about any of Stonehart Industries’ dealings.

  At least, nothing that the regulators could find. The way Jeremy’s eyes gleamed when he told me that made me certain he’d managed a miraculous caper.

  The IPO made Jeremy’s wealth—on paper, at least—almost double. Should he ever sell his shares, he would have enough money to make millionaires of a single city’s populace.

  Not that he would ever give it away.

  But I do find out some things about Jeremy that I never suspected before. Stonehart Industry’s support of the Make-A-Wish Foundation is not just an empty tax-deduction opportunity. It actually holds meaning to Jeremy. He told me how once, in the aftermath of his disastrous break up with the woman who played with his love, he bought the whole inventory of a gigantic downtown toy store, got a bus for all the kids in the largest metropolitan hospital, and brought them there to take anything and everything they wanted clear off the shelves. It was the week before Christmas.

  I was surprised, but more interested in details about the mysterious woman. Who was she? What exactly did she do?

  Jeremy would not elaborate.

  That type of information gives a sense of humanity to the man. He is not just the cold, calculating CEO of Stonehart Industries. He is not just the monster who imprisoned me. He is a living, breathing person, with dreams, aspirations, failures, flaws…

  In fact, Jeremy Stonehart is a lot like anybody else. When I first came into his presence, I thought he was among the worst of humanity.

  I do not anymore. Clearly, he is not perfect. But, how many people can claim to be? And while his abuse of me at first appeared to be without reason, I can now understand—or at least, see—things from his perspective.

  That does not make the things he did acceptable. It does not lessen their severity, or cruelty. But I think that understanding was the key that allowed me to admit that I have feelings for him.

  Strong feelings. Immense feelings.

  He did not abuse me simply because he took pleasure in it. He did not subject me to the horrors of a
thin, withering existence because he could.

  He did it for reasons that were very clear in his mind. He had definitive goals in sight. There was logic behind the madness. Twisted, dark, unacceptable, and masochistic logic … But there it was.

  That’s how I’ve been able to reconcile my warring emotions whenever I’m near Jeremy Stonehart. Maybe it’s me being weak, falling for my captor like this. Maybe it’s me being delusional.

  But even if it is… who cares? What I have right now with Jeremy is so much better than anything I can imagine having with anyone else. Nobody can make me feel the passions that storm within me around Jeremy. Good, bad, and something in between, they are all part of the amazing experience with him.

  There is no supplanting Jeremy. Nobody can ever come close. The path we took to get here is unrivaled.

  Perhaps that is what binds me to him. Maybe it’s not even Jeremy himself—or at least, not Jeremy in full—but rather the journey we shared that makes me feel so inexplicably tied to him.

  Whatever it is, I don’t allow myself to worry too much about it. All I concern myself with, high on this sleepy mountain, is the blooming feeling of warmth that is aroused by Jeremy’s presence. His smile, his laugh, his voice, his unwavering intensity, in everything and anything he does endear him to me.

  And then there are the moments of unexpected sweetness, the jewels that give me a glimpse into his soul. The times I catch him staring at me, transfixed. When I ask him what it is, he just smiles and says, “Nothing”. Or in the post-coital bliss, when we’re both at peace and languid, and he just holds me close to him, our hearts beating as one. Those are the moments when he does not need to speak. There are no words to describe what we have with each other. Those are the times when language seems a cruel parody, utterly incapable of finding meaning or ascribing definition to the raw, powerful connection between our bodies.

  It’s all metaphorical. And yes, there is a time and place for poetry and art. It’s precious and ephemeral. But lose yourself for long enough in its grasp and the corporeal ceases to hold meaning.

  It’s where I am now.

  It’s a slow, sensual seduction of the deepest, most primitive part of my mind. Therein lies the danger. Therein lies the threat. Because should I find myself too accustomed to it, too comfortable within its enclosure, reality has a nasty habit of rearing its ugly head at the least opportune moment.

  That moment comes three days into our stay, on the crisp Saturday morning of March 29th.

  Jeremy and I spent the night in each other’s arms. He kissed me awake, and then went downstairs while I elected to shower alone.

  As I descend the wide steps to the first floor I get the distinct feeling that something is wrong.

  “Lilly,” Jeremy greets me from around the hall. His hands are behind his back. The recent good humor that I’ve come to expect from him is gone. “Come with me.”

  There’s an undertone to his voice that makes me wary. “What is it, Jeremy?” I ask.

  “You’ll see.” A vague and discomfiting answer. “Come. Now.”

  I nod, and trot after him.

  He leads me to a dark, cavernous room. The blinds are drawn.

  “Close the door,” he says once we enter.

  “Jeremy…“

  “Just close it, dammit!”

  I jump to obey. My heart is pounding in a thick, heavy rhythm, like the drumbeats leading a marching army to war.

  I turn to him. He’s settled into a massive armchair in front of the drawn drapes. The back of it extends halfway to the ceiling. It looks like an iron throne.

  He’s watching me from his center of command. His presence, combined with the chair, combined with the darkness, makes me feel suddenly very small.

  And more than a little bit afraid.

  “I found something,” he informs me, “the night I came to your room in Boston. It angered me. But your condition took precedence. You had to be cared for.

  “However.” He raises one finger. “Now that you’ve recovered, and I can see for myself that you are improving, my mind keeps slipping back to that small discovery. Do you know what I’m talking about, Lilly?”

  I blink rapidly, trying to think. I feel like I’m on trial here. For what crime, I do not know.

  But the man before me is the same one I’ve spent the last few glorious days with.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Jeremy …”

  “I’m talking about this,” he snarls. From his hand flies a crumpled sheet of paper. “Pick it up.”

  I walk to it and bend down, my whole body trembling. This is such a departure from what I’ve come to expect from him that I can’t think straight. I haven’t faced this side of Jeremy for so long that I’ve all but forgotten how to react.

  Slowly, I rise and open the note.

  “Read it,” Jeremy barks.

  It takes a second for my eyes to pick out the lettering in the dim light. But when they do, I recognize what it is immediately.

  Robin’s note.

  This is what has him so upset? This is nothing!

  “Jeremy, you’ve got it all wrong,” I start. “Whatever you think—“

  “I said,” his voice cuts through mine like shears through silk, “read it, Lilly Ryder. Do not make me repeat myself.”

  I straighten, unwilling to let him see my fear. There is nothing to be fearful of. Not here. Fear is a sign of guilt, and I have a clean conscience.

  I clear my throat, and quote:

  Fey is still mad, and I am, too. But unlike her, I think I understand. If you ever truly need any help, you can come to me. I won’t shut you out.

  Robin

  “Yes,” Jeremy says when I finish. “Could you tell me what exactly that means, Lilly?”

  “It means nothing,” I say. The spirit is back in my voice, the certainty clear in my speech. “I’d forgotten all about it.”

  “Oh, really?” Jeremy sneers. “Will that be your defense, then? That you forgot about it? That’s why you have not mentioned it to me? I’ve given you plenty of time to bring it up.”

  “Well that’s true,” I say. I stalk around him, to the window, and throw open the drapes. White light reflected from the snow floods the room.

  If my being behind him discomfits Jeremy, he gives no indication. He does not move from his seat, nor does he turn back as he addresses me.

  “Do you remember what I told you about honesty, Lilly?” he asks. His voice has a hard edge to it. “Do you remember what I said about lies and deceit?”

  “That you find them unacceptable,” I say, half-mocking. I go to a credenza on the far wall, opposite him, and cock my hip against it. “So what? You’re not taking me through this round-about game again, Jeremy. This type of behavior is starting to piss me off.”

  He frowns, and tilts his head to one side. “Is that really the best thing to say to me?” he asks.

  There’s a threat hidden deep beneath his words.

  “I’ll say what I want,” I tell him, crossing my arms. I’m walking a narrow line, here. I would never dare attempt this sort of non-compliance were he still Stonehart.

  But I’m not going to roll over and simply take this shit, either. The circumstances should not dictate how I react to him. I have to make it clear that I have my expectations, for him too. Trying to frighten me over a triviality such as this is not acceptable. “I don’t know how much you’ve read into that letter, but whatever you imagine it being, you’re wrong.”

  “A hazardous accusation.”

  “Yet one I’ll still make.” I lift my chin high in the air. ‘I’m not afraid of you, Jeremy. Not anymore. I know what you’re capable of. I experienced it first-hand. But I also know if the depths of your feelings for me really reach as far as you say, you won’t attempt anything of the sort. Ever again.”

  “Lilly…”

  “No. Let me finish. I’m not a little girl to be frightened by dark places and big theatricals. You want a witness to who you are, to what you
do? Well, here I am. You say you’re a man of your word. And you told me you wouldn’t harm me again. I’m free to leave whenever. Don’t you remember? Yet I choose to stay with you.

  “But this sort of bullshit has to stop, Jeremy. I’m putting my foot down. No more threats. No more fucking games. Don’t make me believe we have something special only to crush it with a showing like this.”

  I hold the letter out in front of me. “Do you know how much Robin’s words mean to me?” I rip the paper in two, and then fold it and do it again. I let the pieces flutter to the floor. “That’s how much. That’s why I didn’t mention it. I simply forgot. I don’t need to tell you every minute detail of everything that happens when you’re not around.”

  “Lilly,” Jeremy growls.

  “I’m not done!” I cut him off. Passion is building inside me. My voice becomes stronger with every word. “If you claim you want the trust between us to be that of a wife and a husband of fifty years, well, that’s a fucking two-way street, Jeremy. You can’t expect me to give, give, give, and not reciprocate in return.

  “So no more hidden dangers. No more veiled threats. From now on, you say what you mean, Jeremy, and you tell me exactly what you think. That’s the only way our trust will develop. Because, honestly? Love is only one part of the equation.”

  He looks at me in silence for a long time. His eyes have blackened and his face is still.

  I hate it when he gets like this. He’s hiding everything, and it makes him impossible to read.

  But I will not budge. I am firm in my stance. No matter what Jeremy’s capable of, I will not be reduced to having to watch every step around him. No fucking way.

  Not anymore.

  Slowly, he brings one hand to his face and narrows his eyes. He touches the side of his nose, and then points that finger at me.

  “You,” he says, “are damn sexy with your mind made up.”