Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set)

by Edwards, Scarlett

My gut clenches up. The worst feeling of dread comes over me. Now I’ve done it. Now I’ve pushed too far. Any second now, the current will come on, and the most horrible pain imaginable will consume me…

  “You think you understand me, Lilly?” Stonehart asks. He raises his eyes to meet mine and speaks softly. “You think I want you to be frightened?

  “No. That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t want you to be frightened of me. I want you to be frightened of what I can do.”

  A noise from the right makes me jump halfway out of the seat. My heart is pounding hard when I look over. I find a small LCD television screen being lowered from its hidden compartment above me.

  “It is a fine distinction, Lilly, but I’m going to demonstrate it to you. Watch.”

  The screen turns on. It’s a video feed of Paul’s room.

  There’s no sound. But I see Paul walking around in small circles, gesturing with his hands, his mouth moving as if he’s in an intense debate with someone else.

  “This is live, by the way,” Stonehart says. “As you can see, Paul’s mental state renders him unfit for regular interactions with most other residents. The doctors understand his hallucinations and schizophrenia. What they don’t understand… are the convulsive fits.”

  Stonehart taps his phone. Immediately, Paul crashed to the floor. His limbs flail around wildly. His body convulses with the powerful current. He screams.

  “No!” I cry out. “No! No! Stop it! No, Jeremy! Don’t!”

  “No?” He perks an eyebrow at me.

  Then he taps his phone again.

  Paul goes still. His chest heaves up and down in labored breath.

  I stare at Stonehart, horrified. Adrenaline is rushing through my entire body after the display.

  “Oh, you’re going to love this next part,” Stonehart says. He turns his attention back to the screen. “Right… about… now.”

  As if on cue, the doors to Paul’s rooms burst open. Three uniformed staff members rush in. They move with practiced efficiency. Two grab Paul and lift him to the bed. He fights them, but he is no match. The third takes out a single-use injection pen and jabs it hard into Paul’s thigh.

  Paul’s movements slow. His eyes droop shut, and he goes still.

  The staff members wait a moment to make sure the sedative is in full effect, and then file out the room, leaving my father comatose and alone on the bed.

  “The collar is a gift given to Cedar Woods from Stonehart Industries,” Stonehart explains. His voice is smooth and gives absolutely no hint at any underlying emotions. “It’s quite an ingenious device, really. An invention of Zigtech. Inside, it contains a tiny system of gyroscopes that continuously give it power. Movement of any sort recharges it. It never needs to come off. Which makes it very valuable to the staff at Cedar Woods.

  “They believe that it informs them of Paul’s current condition. When he’s had one of his…” Stonehart stretches his neck from side to side, drawing out the sentence, “…unfortunate fits, a small alarm goes off to tell them they must come. The sedative is for his own good, you see. So that he does not hurt himself when he’s upset. And he gets quite upset, naturally, following one of his fits. He starts rambling about secret watchers and electrical currents, but, you know.” Stonehart shrugs. “Those are just symptoms of his mania.”

  “Monster,” I breathe. “You’re… inhuman.”

  “I am neither one, nor the other, Lilly. I am simply a man who knows what he wants.” The screen turns off. “You mustn’t worry much, though. Your father’s condition has been dramatically improving. Why, this is the first fit he’s had in nearly a year.”

  “You electrocute him for fun,” I say. “Just like you do to me.”

  “No, Lilly.” The words come out harsh and uncompromising. “That’s where you’re wrong. I take no pleasure in causing pain. But bad behavior must be eliminated, and this is the best way I know how.”

  “You’re sick.”

  “And you were infatuated with me just a few short hours ago.” He examines his fingernails beneath a smile. “Tell me, which one of us is really twisted, here?”

  The limo stops in an unremarkable alley in the heart of downtown. I hadn’t even realized we were in the city already.

  “Ah.” Stonehart looks up. “It seems we’ve finally arrived. Remember what you just saw, Lilly, and know that your behavior with me now affects more than just you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Dinner is a tense, strained affair. The excitement I had before over being out among people has been eliminated by everything that’s happened earlier.

  Stonehart was right when he said he took precautions to prevent temptations. The hostess greets us and quickly ushers us in along the far wall, away from the other occupants. We climb a set of stairs that were roped off, and emerge on the second floor.

  This is clearly the more expensive part of the restaurant. The décor screams luxury. Low lights and soothing music provide a perfect atmosphere for secluded lovers.

  Except, every single table on this floor is empty. I should have figured.

  Of course he bought out the second level tonight, I think sourly.

  We sit down at an elevated table close to a massive window. I can see the river below and the clear sky speckled with stars above. If I were in an even slightly better mood, I would be in awe of the natural beauty.

  Stonehart speaks to the waiter. I don’t listen. A glass of wine is set before me. With bitterness, I remember what happened the last time I accepted a drink at a restaurant with Jeremy Stonehart.

  “So.” Stonehart looks at me after the waiter leaves. “This has been a very productive trip for us so far. Wouldn’t you say?”

  I glare across the table. “I hate you,” I declare.

  He chuckles. “A reasonable claim. But false, I think.”

  “No,” I challenge. “I really, really hate you.”

  Stonehart smirks and leans back. “You find me fascinating.”

  “Stop flattering yourself.”

  “I don’t need to when you do it so well for me. You’re curious, Lilly. Inquisitive. You want to know what makes me tick. Put that psychology education to use. Tell me what you see in me. Your analysis on the ride here was quite compelling.”

  “I don’t have to do anything of the sort,” I say.

  “Oh, but you do, sweet Lilly. Did you forget the terms of our contract?”

  And there it is again. The Contract. Of course it never disappeared. It was just buried somewhere in the background.

  “Right now,” Stonehart continues. “That is what I ask of you.”

  “Fine. You want to know what I think? I think you’re manipulative and sadistic. Everything you told me yesterday… the things you said after Rose and Charles left… those were all lies, weren’t they? Lies meant to butter me up. So that I would lower my guard and be vulnerable for the surprise visit you had in store for me today.

  “Because that was the true purpose of this trip, wasn’t it, Jeremy? It wasn’t to show me your ‘trust’. It definitely wasn’t to show repentance. It was to bring me to Portland… to show me Paul.”

  He tilts his head slightly to one side and fixes me with that dark, penetrating stare. I’m suddenly glad for the table separating us.

  “You’re right,” he says quietly. “The visit to Cedar Woods did guide my intentions. But you cannot mistake my honesty with you yesterday. The things I said last night were true. I am a man of my word. I would not lie to you outright.”

  I scoff. “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”

  “Then you know much less about me than you assume.” Stonehart looks out over the water. “Really, Lilly, has this trip been so unbearable for you? I let you meet your father. I brought you with me to a public outing. We may have missed the gala last month. But, there will be opportunities to make up for that in the future.

  “Yesterday, I allowed you out of the sunroom. Today, I have given you unprecedented leeway in speaking your mind. I h
ave not been angered once, though many of your comments were clearly meant to incite me.

  “No, Lilly,” he continues. “I told you the truth when I said I valued your spunk. And, against all my original intentions, you have become… precious… to me. You are a wonder the likes of which I have never experienced before.”

  “And you’re an absolute madman,” I counter. “How can you speak that way? How can you say those things after what I saw you do to my fa—”

  I cut off. I don’t want Stonehart to have any clue of my growing attachment toward Paul. That is a weakness he will have no qualms about exploiting, as he’s already shown me.

  “After what I saw you do to Paul,” I correct.

  “Again, you misplace blame. I am not the one responsible for what happened to you father.” He emphasizes the word. “You are. As you will be every single time it happens in the future.”

  “You put him there,” I say. “He wouldn’t be in that mental institution if it wasn’t for you. And you expect me to be grateful? Hah!”

  “He would, Lilly,” Stonehart tells me. “Either that, or he would be dead. I am not the one who broke his mind. The drugs did that. Besides…” he picks up his wineglass and peers inside, “…you heard him yourself. I saved him. He owes his life to me.”

  “Lies!” I hiss, slamming one hand on the table.

  Stonehart’s gaze snaps to me. “No. They are not. I found him when he was in the darkest place imaginable. I helped him recover. Almost five years of sobriety, owed entirely to me.”

  “You slapped the collar around his neck!”

  “A necessity,” Stonehart says. “And a precaution. You saw how it became useful today.”

  “You’re sick.”

  “I think we’ve already established that,” Stonehart muses. “Don’t you have any new adjectives for me? Here, I’ll give you some to try: Demented. Abusive. Perverse. Cruel. All those fit your impression of me so far, don’t they?”

  “That and more,” I spit.

  He laughs. “ ‘That and more.’ Well, I certainly can’t expect you to choose any others before seeing a different side of me.” He reaches into his inner-tuxedo pocket and takes out a sealed, white envelope. He slides it toward me.

  I stare at it without moving. “What is that?”

  “A proposal,” Stonehart says. “Open it.”

  “No.”

  “Lilly.” His lips come together to make a firm line. “Don’t be childish. Open the envelope.”

  I glare at him but do as he says. I edge my knife under the flap, dismissing thoughts of using the cutlery as a weapon, and take out the two small slips of paper contained inside.

  They’re airline tickets. I look at them suspiciously, then back at Stonehart.

  “Of course, we won’t be travelling commercial,” he says. “But I thought this would be a good way of showing you my intentions.”

  “What intentions?” I ask warily.

  He sighs, as if suddenly tired. “Stop being obtuse. The act was charming at first, but now it’s growing thin. You can be angry with me, I won’t blame you. You are human, after all, and moreover, are prone to…” his mouth twists in a sneer, “…womanly emotions. I’d expect no less from somebody so young.”

  “Oh, so is that it, now?” I say. “I’m not mature enough for you? Is that why you want five years, Jeremy? So you can carve me into the woman you think I should be?” I laugh. “Or is it more sinister than that? What are your intentions, Jeremy Stonehart, truly? Oh, but I forgot—I’m not allowed to know. You just give me bits and pieces here and there and expect me to come up with some grand theory of why you chose me. Isn’t that it? So that you can laugh at my naivety and bask in your obviously superior power.

  “Unless you kill me first.” My words are meant to wound. “Wouldn’t that be convenient for you? Four and a half years from now, when I’m nearing the end of the Contract,” I give special emphasis to that despicable word, “something happens to me on your grand estate. I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard for you to make it look like an accident. Would it, Jeremy? Out there, in the privacy of your own home, it’d be all-too-easy to hide a body. It—”

  “Stop.” Stonehart’s eyes are blazing. “You’re hysterical. I am many things, Lilly, but a murderer is not one of them. If you ever bring this up again, I will punish you severely. You insult me. I won’t be slighted based on your crazed fancies. I’m letting it slide, tonight, this one time, because you’re clearly reeling from all the new freedoms I have given you. Maybe allowing you to speak your mind in the car was a mistake. I intended it as a demonstration of trust. Perhaps I misjudged your readiness. Do I need to establish rules for your conduct once more? That would be easy to do. One. You—”

  “No. No, no, no.” I shake my head quickly and lower my eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again.”

  “Be thankful that I turned the brooch off before we left the hotel. If Rose, or anybody else, heard the way you conducted yourself with me tonight, I’d have no choice but to show you the consequences of making baseless accusations. Lilly. Look at me, Lilly! Meet my eyes!”

  Slowly, hesitantly, I draw my gaze to him. Stonehart is directing his most intimidating glare at me. I suddenly feel very small, and very, very powerless.

  What was I thinking, saying all those things? How could I have so carelessly given word to the dark thoughts that have been brewing in my mind for months?

  “Do you understand?”

  I should be thanking my lucky stars that he has taken all this so calmly. A man any less in control, who nonetheless exhibited Stonehart’s sociopathic tendencies, would not be able to respond so… so civilly… to all that I’ve said.

  “Yes.” I nod. Then I swallow. “Thank you for your generosity.”

  He eases back. Slightly. “Now that that’s settled,” he says, “look at the tickets I got you.”

  I pick up the two airline passes and look them over.

  Departure: December 27, 2013. 0800H. Portland, Oregon (PDX).

  Arrival: December 27, 2013. 1700H. Fort Lauderdale, Florida (FLL).

  “Florida?” I ask, puzzled. “You’re taking me to Florida?” I don’t have the strength to consider the implications. By now, I know that I should just go with it.

  “Yes.” Stonehart smiles. “You didn’t think I’d let Rose ruin the real surprise, did you? This is the trip I envisioned for us when considering your Christmas present. So there you go, Lilly. Merry Christmas.”

  ***

  Dinner passes with no more unpleasantness. A tension exists between Stonehart and me. But, whereas I am negatively affected by it, he seems to thrive on it. It builds and culminates and comes to its natural climax back in the hotel room where Stonehart tears my clothes off and fucks me raw the moment we get in. His desire and passion is both powerful and overwhelming. He takes control of my body with no consideration for my state of mind.

  Of course, I’d gotten used to that when I was in the dark. If there’s one thing Stonehart taught me to do, it’s detach all emotions and feelings from sex.

  Much later, when he is slumbering beside me in the massive bed, I’m lying wide awake, staring at the ceiling, and trailing a finger back and forth over the smooth side of my collar.

  Sleep is impossible. I keep thinking of Paul, of my mother, of my past. Trying to decipher how any of it can be connected to the virile man sharing my bed.

  I sneak a glance at him, and then look away. Asleep, he looks almost human. Almost. Almost like any other man would. Nothing about his body or face gives any hint to the monstrosities he’s responsible for.

  It’s astounding, really, that he trusts me enough not to do anything to him while he’s so vulnerable. How easy it would be to sneak to the kitchen, find a sharp knife, and bring it back to the bedroom. I wouldn’t even have to use it right away. I could hide it under my pillow, always within reach. Then, in the morning, when he inevitably wakes up hard and starts to put his hand
s on me…

  I shake my head to change the trajectory of my thoughts. That would be easy, yes. Too easy. And where would it land me? My life would be forfeit. I’d be known as the harlot who murdered one of the most successful businessmen in the country. I’d go down in history with the Lee Harvey Oswalds of the world.

  I am not that desperate. Not yet. I hope that I’ll never be.

  Seeing Paul renewed my sense of purpose. I don’t want Stonehart dead. I want him damaged. I want him to suffer. I want him broken, irrevocably, mentally broken, the same way Paul is.

  And I want to be the one responsible.

  I lift the blanket off and step out of bed. I’m nude except for the collar. Stonehart says I’m not allowed to wear anything when I’m in his bed.

  But there’s a robe hanging off the closet door. I pick it up and go to the window, then look out over all the city lights. I have no idea what’s going on in the world. Briefly, I consider Fey and Sonja. I wonder how they’re holding up, what they’re doing. If they tried to contact me for the holidays…

  I sigh and turn away. Those aren’t things I should be thinking about, either. The only thing that should concern me—the only thing that does concern me—is the person sharing the hotel suite with me tonight.

  So, with that firmly in mind, I settle into an armchair and begin to plot.

  Chapter Twelve

  If Stonehart is upset to find me out of bed the next morning, he gives no indication of it. I’m cheerful and full of energy as I pour him the coffee I’d brewed.

  “I want to leave within the hour,” he informs me. “I trust that’ll give you enough time to get ready?”

  “Yes, but all I have are clothes for this trip. Rose didn’t pack me anything for warmer weather.”

  He gives me a look fit for a misbehaving child. “Do you really think I’d come unprepared? You’ll find a full wardrobe waiting for you aboard the jet.” He looks at his cups and quirks his lips. “You didn’t spike this with something? Cyanide, perhaps?”

  “Oh, Jeremy.” I slap his arm playfully. “Don’t be so suspicious. It’s perfectly safe.”