“Hey, man, all good?” The sound of his voice has my eyes opening. He has his back toward me, no tension in his muscles, body relaxed as he leans his shoulder against the wall, then a low, rumbling laugh comes from him, from whatever the person on the other end is saying. I frown as jealousy wraps around me like a snake. They were able to get him to laugh. He’s free around them. I close my eyes again when I see him turn.
“Yeah.” He lets out a deep sigh, and without even seeing him I know he’s running his fingers through his hair. “No!” he shouts. “I don’t do anything stupid!” he growls, but there is still some warmth in his voice. “Yeah, you too.” I can hear him grinning. In all the time I've been here, I haven't seen his lips even twitch, even resemble a real smile.
The phone drops to the dressing table and he curses. I keep my eyes closed as he moves around the room, getting ready, follow his every sound. When I feel him staring at me, I don’t move a muscle, barely breathing, waiting for him to call me out. Instead, I hear the door open and the low rumble of his voice, followed by Marcus’ one-word answer.
I get out of bed, wrapping the silk sheet around me as I walk to the window, seeing Malachi opening his car door. Just as he is about to slip in, he stops. His eyes turn up to the window, spotting me. We watch each other, and it's almost as if we know what the other is thinking.
That this is the final goodbye.
He frowns as he studies me, taking a step as if coming for me, when he pulls his phone out of his trouser pocket. Looking down at the caller ID, his features harden. I close the curtain at the reminder of who he is.
I open the door to see Marcus stood next to the wall, standing straighter when he sees me.
“You know, if I was going to escape, I could jump out the window.” He snorts, following behind me. I turn to face him. “I see you too.” His eyes widen, mouth parts, before it slams shut, lips turning into a thin line as his eyes narrow. A lethal look appears in his eyes.
It may have scared the shit out of me two days ago, but knowing my life is running out like sand through a timer, I stand still instead of flinching back. “I’m sorry—for whatever hurt you so much.” I don’t know what makes me lean forward—maybe I have gone crazy—but I wrap my arms around Marcus, his body as solid as stone, still as a statue.
I don’t look at him as I close the door to my room, leaning my head against the wood, letting out a deep breath before I push off, heading toward the bathroom. I run a bath, filling it with bath salts, taking advantage of all the stuff here.
I lower my body into the bath, letting the heat surround my aching body. It’s then I see the purple bruises against my hips, one on each of my hip bones, four on the backside. I run my finger over them, remembering how his touch felt, as if he was holding on, never wanting to let go. I wonder if he has matching marks on his shoulders. The thought makes my stomach twist as I wonder if I had also marked him as mine. Yeah, I am messed up.
After I soak until my fingers turn wrinkly, I get out, wiping the steam from the mirror, watching as my face morphs from mine, to Hayden’s, to Jack’s. “They will pay.”
I put on my makeup as if I’m going to war. After years of going into the compound, I know the look the women wear, and I perfect it; smoky grey eyes, scarlet red lips, fitted grey dress and matching stiletto heels. I put extra volume in my hair, and big curls that bounce when I walk.
I know—in fact, I’m certain—that today is the day I die. It’s a strange feeling, almost like relief. I will no longer be someone's puppet; will no longer have to fight a fight I have no chance of ever winning. I will be free of it. At that thought, a stab of dread goes through me, making me frown.
Before I can digest what that means, I open the door. Marcus stands, choking on nothing as he takes me in.
“Can you take me to the compound?” His eyes widen even further, before he realises, I’m being serious.
“No!” he shouts, looking around as he grabs my arm, making me hiss. He tries to push me backwards, and I grab on to him as my heels wobble with the force of him.
“Is she misbehaving?” Both our heads whip around to see Declan walking toward us. I stare at him, look into his eyes, and see complete and utter hatred there. He wants to punish me for crimes I have no clue about. You don't hate someone the way he hates me without reason, but what he thinks I've done, I have no clue.
Instead of trying to work out where his hatred is coming from, I let the words slip out. “I wanted to go to the compound. It was a silly idea.”
I feel Marcus tense up beside me as Declan answers, “No, I think it’s perfect.” The way he says it has me bumping backwards into Marcus, who curses under his breath.
Remembering the plan, I take a step toward Declan.
“Can you take me?” That sly sneer slides up his face, making him look menacing as he holds out his arm to lead the way. I walk past, holding my bag close, praying to the gods I don’t believe in that he doesn’t check my bag and spot the revolver I stole from Malachi’s draw this morning. He has quite the collection.
“You don’t know what you are doing.” Marcus’ hot breath whispers across my ear as Declan takes the lead to the car.
“That's it! For the first time in weeks, I know what I’m doing!” He opens his mouth to speak, when Declan turns to look over his shoulder, stopping anything he was going to say. I slide into the back of the car, looking up at my cage. It certainly is beautiful.
I feel another tug at my stomach as the car starts, as if this is my safety. I’m wrong in leaving it. My hands itch to grab the handle, to jump out and run back toward the house, my prison. Am I the little bird that wished everyday they could fly, that someone would open their cage, to find out they were safest in the cage all along?
I catch Marcus’ eyes, those rich chocolate orbs looking both impressed and angry, if that's possible, as if he knows my plan and is impressed with it, but angry I would be so stupid. As if he’s trying to tell me something, some secret conversation that I can’t understand.
When we arrive outside the compound, it's still as big and daunting as I remember. There’s something about the gothic look of the building, even as it looks with all its grandeur and sash windows. It’s got a threatening edge. Maybe it's the Kingston name that brought that.
“Scared, little Lilliana?” Declan’s voice makes me jump, causing him to laugh as he pulls open the door. I get out and go follow when Marcus grabs my arm. I look between him and the compound. A tear falls, burning its way down my cheek.
“He took them all away,” I whisper, unsure why I am spilling my secrets in front of a place that is drowning in them. It's ironic.
Just as I turn, his grip tightens as if he wants to stop me. A weak smile stretches my lips. “Yeah, I kind of like you too.” He drops my arm like I've burned him, shaking his head. His lips curl up into a sneer as he takes a step toward me, pushing me against the wall, caging me in.
“Don’t take me thinking you’re an idiot for liking you. I am not here to watch or care about your arse. I’m the one who will be cleaning up the mess you make.” Before I can sieve through my thoughts, he leans in even closer, baring his teeth with a statement that takes my breath away. “Make no mistake, it will be your blood that will spill.”