ADELINE

 

LUCIEN AND I continue to play the cat and mouse game over the next several days.  I try to lure him into my web of lies and deceit so that I can go home, but he always resists.

The more he turns me down, the more I try.  And I'm starting to think that maybe this was his goal all along.

We have dinner in my room again just like we have for the past few evenings, and I decide to try a different approach.  Instead of asking when I can go home and basically eating in silence, I'm going to make some small-talk and get to know my captor a little better…even if that should be the furthest thing from my mind right now.

If I'm being totally honest with myself, Lucien's company hasn't been…awful.  He's actually seems really smart, and he is nice to look at.  I don't know why I'm trying to find the silver lining in this messed up situation, but at least he's not an old, ugly, bald guy with a pot belly who's trying to rape me every night.

Things could definitely be worse.

I need to keep telling myself that if I'm going to survive this.

"What do you do for a living, Lucien?" I ask him while stabbing a buttered asparagus spear with my plastic fork.  Apparently, I'm still not being trusted with metal utensils.

Lucien dabs his mouth with a linen napkin.  "Without getting into too many boring details, I'm a software engineer."

"So you're good with computers then."

"Yes."

"Did you go to college for that?" I'm genuinely interested, and I hope that he can see that.

"Yes and no.  I went to college, but dropped out to pursue other ventures.  I was trained by a professional hacker to perform some of the work I need to do."

I absorb the information slowly.  That explains how he was able to kidnap me from so far away.  With his money, power and skills, I'm sure his reach is unlimited.

"I see," I say softly, turning my attention back to my meal.  Everything is cooked perfectly and tastes delicious, as usual.  Grasping the stem of my wine glass, I bring it to my mouth and sip the cool, red liquid.

Over the rim of the glass, I can see Lucien watching my every move.  His eyes are hooded and focused on my mouth.  He does this often while we eat, and it's as if he enjoys watching me do mundane things like talking, eating and drinking.

It's obvious that he's attracted to me.  I would imagine that if he wasn't, he would have never decided to kidnap me.  So why is he making it so difficult for me to take him up on his offer so that I can go home?

I set the glass back down, and his dark chocolate eyes track my movement.  He looks devastatingly handsome tonight in a tailored three-piece dark suit and tie.  His hair is perfectly styled, like always, and his strong jaw is clean-shaven.  I've never seen him having so much as a five-o'clock shadow.

He exudes perfection, but I wonder if his appearance is by choice or if it was ingrained upon him, like in my case.  What I would have given to be able to wear sweatpants around the house and throw my hair up into a messy bun.  I was never allowed to look less than flawless at all times, no matter what.  My father's rules were harsh, to say the least.  And I can't say that I miss them at all.

If anything, I wish I never had to return to the prison my father calls our home.

Lucien had mentioned about paying me before he released me, and that's been nagging at the back of my mind.  I wonder how much money he's talking about.  Maybe I wouldn't have to return back to my prison at all.  Maybe I could start a new life with the money.

"Lucien," I start, and I watch as his eyes darken.  "You…you mentioned paying me before letting me go."  After he nods in agreement, I shyly ask, "How much?"

He leans back in his chair and considers my question for a moment.  "I'm presuming your handler didn't give you any money?"

I tilt my head to the side as I try to understand what he means by handler once again.  Maybe he means the guys who kidnapped me at gunpoint.  I simply shake my head, not giving him a verbal answer since I definitely didn't receive anything other than sheer terror that night.

He frowns in clear disappointment.  "I figured as much."  He takes a moment before saying, "One million."

My eyes widen at his words.  He's going to give me…one million dollars to sleep with him?  "Why?"  The question blurts out of my mouth before I can even stop myself.

"Why what?"

"Why would you pay me that much money?  Why are you the way you are?" I ask, the questions tumbling out one after another.

He shakes his head, and I know I won't get an answer out of him.  "I just am," he whispers, but I can hear the sadness in his voice.

"You could have any woman you want," I say, my mouth clearly not waiting for my brain to tell it to shut up.

My compliment seems to amuse him, though, and I see a ghost of a smile on his mouth before it disappears altogether.  I don't think I've ever seen him genuinely smile.  And I most certainly have never heard him laugh.  He's always so serious…so detached from everyone around him and the outside world.

My mind races for a reason.  There has to be a reason for why he's like this.  If I can find out, maybe it will make me…hate him less.

"You'll never figure it out," he tells me as if reading my thoughts.  "No one ever has, and I don't expect you to now.  My past isn't any concern of yours, and I'd like to keep it right where it is…in the past," he says sternly.  "It doesn't matter now," he says softly, and I can hear the hurt in his tone.

But I think he's lying.  I think it does matter.  Somehow his past shaped him into the man he is today.  All of his eccentricities add up to something bigger.  Something traumatic happened to him…or maybe someone hurt him.

Suddenly, I think he and I have a lot more in common than I ever thought.  And the urge to comfort him hits me out of the blue.

Throwing all rational thought out the window, I reach across the table and place my hand over his.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Snatching his hand back as if he's just been burnt by my touch, Lucien suddenly stands, knocking his chair over in the process and rattling the table enough that several things spill, including the wine, onto the white, pristine tablecloth.  A sheer look of terror is on his face as he takes in the mess, the blood red wine still slowly soaking into the cloth.

"I'm sorry.  I didn't know.  I didn't ---."

Lucien's eyes snap to mine, and the intense anger I see in his gaze causes me to clamp my mouth shut.

Without another word, he turns and goes to the door.  It takes him three tries before he manages to type the right code into the keypad, and he profusely curses through gritted teeth after each failed attempt.

His entire body shudders in barely controlled anger as he leaves, slamming the door shut behind him.

I'm standing in the middle of the room with my mouth agape for a very long time after he disappears trying to figure out what the hell I did wrong.