Entrapment

by Aleatha Romig

  What?

  “No.”

  “Now!” No longer crimson as he turned to me, his face was red, bright red, a glowing contrast to his blond hair and light gray eyes. There was something different about them too, something I couldn’t place yet felt hauntingly familiar.

  I opened Chelsea’s door and turned once more back to Bryce. He’d released Chelsea’s arm as he turned to be sure I’d left. Instead, I pulled the door open wider and stepped toward him. As my chest met his, I thrust my key toward Chelsea and said, “Go now. Lock my door.”

  It happened so fast. She didn’t hesitate as she took off running, her bare feet gripping the soft carpet as she sprinted away.

  Bryce took a deep breath and moved toward me, each step enlisting my retreat, pushing me back and back until the wall stopped my progress. Caging me against the wall with one arm on either side of my face, he leaned closer. “You’ll regret that. Not as much as her, but you will.”

  “What the hell is your problem? Is it Patrick?” Because he’s ready to kick your ass.

  I didn’t say that last part.

  “Right now, my problem is you.”

  “Fine, then don’t marry me.”

  He seized my chin, his fingers painfully squeezing my face. “Shut the fuck up. Learn to keep your mouth closed and, I’ll add, your legs together—to anyone but me. If you can manage to follow those simple instructions, things will improve for you and my whore.”

  His callous words bit more than his grip.

  “Don’t talk about her like that.”

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t differentiate, not when there were two whores in here.”

  Was her room bugged? Had he heard that I’d signed with Infidelity?

  Shit! How stupid could I have been?

  “Bryce… what’s going on?”

  “You weren’t at Magnolia Woods today. I called. You weren’t there, only Patrick. That means one thing. It means you were with him.” He let go of my chin and caressed my cheek. The change from brutality to gentleness added to my queasiness. “Darling, if you can fuck, then I can too.” His smile broadened. “I might even let you watch.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me. I warned you. I told you that you’d go along with everything, because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to live with the repercussions.” His tone softened, his timbre a mocking sweetness. “I can’t do to you what I want, not right now.”

  The calculating coldness in his eyes sent a cold chill tingling down my spine.

  “Because,” he went on, explaining his psychotic reasoning, “in less than an hour you’re going to be downstairs in a fucking different dress, wearing your ring, and playing the perfect fiancée. We have a party tomorrow. It’s a shame Chelsea won’t make it.”

  I had trouble keeping up. “But Suzanna and Alton want her there. A united front.”

  “But you don’t. She’s a whore. Everyone knows that and when asked, that will be your answer.”

  I shook my head. “No. I won’t do that to her. I won’t—”

  His hand covered my lips. “You will or I’ll tell Alton about today. I’ll let him know that instead of visiting Adelaide, you were screwing a criminal. And then your visiting privileges with your mother will be revoked.” He moved his head slowly from side to side as a grin came to his lips. “As I said, you will cooperate. Won’t you, darling? Best friend or worst enemy. I suggest you work on reminding me why you want it to be friend.”

  “Leave Chelsea alone. She hasn’t done anything. If you want to take this out on someone—not that I’m admitting to anything—then take it out on me.”

  “If only I could, but bruises won’t go well with dinner tonight or the party tomorrow night. And, darling…” He allowed the endearment to hang in the air. “…I don’t do sloppy seconds.

  “Go now, it’s nearly time for dinner.” He reached for a bit of my hair. “Fix your hair and makeup. Make yourself beautiful.” He ran his knuckles over my cheek as his tenor flowed like silk. “Because you can be stunning, Alexandria. I’ve seen it. I’ve watched you. From now on, you’ll wear that gorgeous smile for me, won’t you?”

  I stared, terrified of his next mood swing.

  He brushed his finger over my lips. “When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”

  I nodded. It wasn’t so much a concession as it was manipulation. By giving him the answer he wanted, I controlled his response.

  Bryce smiled. “Now, here’s a question for you. Tell me you don’t want to be late for dinner; you don’t want to be late again today, do you?”

  I hadn’t had a chance to respond when unexpectedly his fist collided with the wall, merely inches from my face. The plaster was no match for his punch as fine dust fluttered around us.

  I gasped, shuddering as his growing erection pressed against my stomach.

  “I asked you a question.” The red crept back up to his ears. “Fucking answer it…” Before it could register, he reached down the neckline of my dress and under my bra, painfully pinching and twisting my nipple.

  I screamed as I tried unsuccessfully to move away.

  Bryce grinned. “…or, darling, I’ll find places your dress will hide, places to leave my mark. Now answer.”

  “No,” I replied quickly, gathering what was left of my self-control and pushing his hand away. “I don’t want to be late.”

  He leaned closer, his nose touching my neck as he inhaled. “And shower. Exchanging you for her was supposed to rid me of a whore, not make another one my future wife.”

  Bryce took a step back, giving me the space to stand straighter.

  Was he allowing me to leave? Would he follow me?

  I stayed planted and softened my tone. “Please, Bryce. She’s my friend. Please, don’t do anything.”

  He let out a breath. “I know you may not understand, but I’ve paid a lot of money to do whatever I want.” One side of his lips quirked upward. “As I said, she’s a whore but for you… for now… I’ll go back downstairs and make nice with your father.” He tilted his head toward the fist print—the indentation in the wall. “Don’t make any assumptions. Locks won’t keep me out.”

  BRYCE’S LIPS QUIRKED. “I don’t give a fuck how many keys you have.”

  I held my breath and rebuttal as Bryce turned, leaving me alone in Chelsea’s room. His last words, his menacing cold stare, fueled the rush of adrenaline flooding my system. Still standing, I reached for my own hands, gripped the large diamond, and tried to make sense of the shaking. I squeezed my hands in an effort to quiet the trembling, but as it registered, I realized it was no longer contained to my hands but racking my entire body, making my knees increasingly weak.

  Like a jittery statue I stood waiting, fearful that he would return and yet more terrified that he’d look elsewhere to wreak his fury. As time stood still, air returned to my lungs and slowed my tremors. My breaths were the only sound as I searched for noise of him down the hall with Chelsea.

  Though I wanted to help my friend, my body refused to move, paralyzed by what I’d seen and heard. Quietness prevailed as Bryce’s footsteps disappeared in the distance, replacing the horror with relief. No longer rigid, my bones became pliable, giving way to the forces of gravity. With a suppressed sob, I melted against the pockmarked wall and puddled on the carpet.

  Oh my God.

  He’s a monster.

  With only my eyes, I rapidly searched the room for a clock. I needed to get ready. I needed to check on Chelsea, yet I didn’t have the strength. Seconds became minutes as time passed and my heart beat out a cadence, a rhythm composed by dread. I couldn’t marry that man. I couldn’t spend another day with him nor would I allow Chelsea to. He was a psychopath, cold and without empathy or remorse. I’d never witnessed such uncaring eyes.

  In a matter of minutes his anger had superseded rage, moving to a frigid terrain, colder than anything I’d ever seen. It was nothing like Nox’s worst temper. It was even worse th
an Alton. Bryce was distant and disconnected.

  When I closed my eyes, his calculating stare filled my unseeing vision.

  Was that the last thing Melissa Summers had seen? What had she experienced? I may have doubted it before, but not any longer: Edward Bryce Spencer was capable of murder. I knew it in my soul.

  “Alex?”

  I blinked my eyes as Chelsea came into focus.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, reaching for my hand.

  Her right cheek was red and the contusion was raised.

  “Me?” I gently touched the irritated skin. “What about you?”

  Tugging my hand, she pulled me to stand. “I’m okay, because of you. I’m sorry I ran. I should have stood up to him, like you did. I-I told you, he scares me.”

  I nodded. “I see it. I do.” I stilled our steps as we moved toward my room. “Chelsea, don’t stand up for me. Don’t. He said he will…” I could hardly make myself say the words. “…that he can hurt you, because he can do anything he wants to you. He can’t hurt me. I have to be at dinner and the party.”

  Chelsea’s arms wrapped about her midsection. “I-I can’t stop him. You can’t stop him.”

  I pulled her through my suite and into my bathroom, leaving two locked doors between us and the hallway. “I can. I’m getting you out of here. I have a plan.”

  WITH A FEW minutes to spare, I took a deep breath, made my way down the grand stairs and toward the dining room. I’d done as Bryce said, complete with a shower, washing away any scent of Nox or Patrick and replacing it with bodywash, shampoo, and perfume. My dress was new, even to me. It had been hanging in a garment bag, another costume for my new role.

  I settled at the unoccupied dining table, happy for a moment of peace to collect my thoughts.

  “Would you like a glass of wine?” the young lady manning the dining room asked.

  I’d like a whole bottle, but I’d settle for a glass. “Yes, thank you. Cabernet.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  As she disappeared into the kitchen, Suzanna and Bryce entered. The calm was gone, yet I didn’t turn to watch them enter. I was too terrified of what I’d see.

  “Alexandria, how was your mother?”

  Apprehensively, my head moved their direction, my gaze fluttering between Suzanna and her son. Was this another trap? Almost imperceptibly, Bryce shook his head, telling me to play the role. Perfect fiancée. That was what he’d demanded.

  “She is getting better. The nurses keep saying she is.”

  “I need to go see her,” Suzanna said. “Tomorrow morning I’ll join you.”

  Before I could accept her proposal, Bryce spoke; each of his phrases poked another hole in my boat of hope. Soon it would sink, my titanic of dreams imprisoned in the ocean’s depths.

  “Mother, you’re going to need to go alone. Alexandria will be occupied tomorrow. Perhaps,” he went on, “she’ll be available on Sunday.” It depends on her performance at the party.

  I heard the last part loud and clear, even though he didn’t voice it aloud.

  “Occupied?” Suzanna turned my way. “Doing what?”

  The young lady placed the glass of Montague Private Collection before me as Suzanna sat. I shrugged. “It’s news to me, too. You’ll need to ask your son.”

  He lifted his glass of whiskey and grinned. “Our plans are yet to be determined.” He circled his wrist, clanking the iced cubes. “There are so many variables.”

  The air cooled, not only with his words but also his too-calm tone. The chill settled over the room, leaving a trail of goose bumps on my skin.

  “Nice dress,” Bryce said, coming behind me and kissing my cheek.

  “An unplanned excursion,” Suzanna said excitedly. “That sounds like a great idea. Just don’t get too carried away. Remember you have to be back in time to get ready for the party. The guests will begin to arrive at six.”

  The room fell silent as Alton entered.

  Nodding, he grinned. “Now this is what I like to see. Everyone in place…” His eyes narrowed as he eyed the empty place setting. “Where is Chelsea?”

  “Alexandria?” Bryce prompted.

  Knots formed in my stomach as my mouth dried. My volume was barely audible. “I can’t do it.”

  Everyone’s eyes were on me: Alton and Suzanna’s questioning and Bryce’s warning.

  “I think you can.” His response was also soft.

  I turned toward him, fighting the tears. “No. I can’t.”

  “What is it?” Suzanna asked with a genuine concern in her voice.

  Bryce’s eyes narrowed.

  I shook my head and turning to Suzanna, spoke louder. “I’ve tried, really I have, but if I have to face my academy classmates and the society of Savannah tomorrow night, I can’t do it with that whore in tow.” The word hurt my heart. I was thankful she couldn’t hear me.

  “Alexandria!” Suzanna shrieked.

  I turned toward Alton as he sat. “Imagine how my mother would have felt sharing the stage with you and some whore you were screwing right under her nose.”

  “This isn’t about your mother or me…” As his lame excuse rang out, there was something in Suzanna’s expression that confirmed Pat’s accusations.

  “Or had she?” I asked.

  “We’re losing focus of the point,” Bryce interjected. “Alexandria drew a line in the sand. Chelsea will stay, but not publicly. It’s Alexandria’s decision.”

  “I don’t like it,” Suzanna said. “Chelsea needs to work at Montague and face people in Savannah. If you snub her, you’re sentencing her to public ridicule.”

  “And if I embrace her,” I replied, “I’m sentencing myself to the same. It won’t be as overt, but you know it will be there.”

  Alton lifted his hand as the staff entered with plates of salads. “That’s enough.” He turned to the young girl. “Take a dinner to Miss Moore’s room. Apparently she won’t be joining us.”

  “Sir?” The girl asked, looking my direction.

  “I’ve already requested that. I let the staff know that she’d be eating in her room for the foreseeable future.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Suzanna said in Chelsea’s defense. “If you don’t want her here, she’ll move back to Carmichael Hall.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” Suzanna asked. “At least there she won’t be forced to face your animosity.”

  I turned to Bryce.

  With a sweet expression of satisfaction gracing his thin lips, he lifted his glass. “Mother, I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  The knots in my stomach multiplied.

  “Fine,” Alton said dismissively. “After the party. This is all too much drama. I’ve had enough. No more discussion about Miss Moore.”

  After the party. Thank God.

  My boat of hope wasn’t beyond repair.

  Course after course came and went. The conversation—what little there was—focused on the unimportant and uncontroversial. I tried to bring up the subject of the earlier meeting in Alton’s den, but each attempt was met with one-word answers.

  “Really, Alexandria, you may be in law school, but many things are above you. Let the men worry about those things. That’s why you’re marrying. You concentrate on ladies’ things.”

  It was the sexism sprinkled with negativity that I’d lived with most of my life. It wouldn’t matter if I graduated with honors. I was female and obviously not bright enough to recognize illegal dealings when I saw them. Each passing minute burned another piece of my soul. I wanted nothing more than to end the family farce and make my way back to the refuge of my room.

  Locks may not keep Bryce out, but I had a plan. I’d asked Jane to join me for a movie.

  As dinner concluded and Alton stood, I dabbed my lips and placed my napkin beside my plate. Scooting my chair away from the table, Bryce’s question stopped me.

  “How about a walk, Alexandria?”

  My thundering pulse warned me, yet I couldn’t all
ow his attention to go back to Chelsea. “That sounds marvelous.” My smile was too big. “Maybe another night. I’m exhausted. We could sit for a while in the sitting room?” In plain sight of Alton, Suzanna, and the staff.

  His thin lips quirked. “Darling, I’m sure you can find the energy. After all, you had energy this afternoon. Surely you have time for me, your fiancé? Or would you like to tell us all about your afternoon?”

  My breasts pressed upward against the satin lining of my dress. The tight bodice restricted my ability to take in a deep breath as a prickly sensation cut down my spine. “Of course I have energy for you. I-I’d love to walk. Maybe to the lake?” I asked, hoping for my childhood friend’s return.

  “I was thinking the woods.”

  What the hell?

  “Nonsense,” Suzanna interjected. “It’s dark. You two have a big day tomorrow.”

  “Mother, we aren’t children.”

  “You aren’t, but before you go gallivanting off, I think the four of us have things we need to discuss before tomorrow.”

  “Such as?” I baited, hoping for a reprieve.

  “While speaking to Gwen earlier this afternoon, I realized that there will be suspicions and questions. You both need to have your stories straight.”

  I nodded.

  “The three of you handle this,” Alton said dismissively. “I have pressing matters.”

  No one refuted Alton’s claim as he stood. Seconds later he was gone leaving the three of us alone.

  “Now,” Suzanna went on, “with this abrupt change regarding Chelsea, we need to decide—”

  “There’s nothing to decide,” Bryce said. “Alexandria is sticking by her conviction.” He stood, giving me hope that he might be joining Alton.

  “Well, yes,” Suzanna said as she turned to me, “but, dear, you can’t say that to others. You can’t use that ‘w’ word.”

  Instead of leaving, Bryce moved to the chair beside me and splayed his hand over my lower thigh. His eyes opened expectedly. “Alexandria?”

  The knots within my stomach churned with the little bit of food I’d managed to consume. Simultaneously, my skin coated with perspiration at the growing pressure of Bryce’s hand. My teeth clenched as the pain increased.