“You just left him hanging?” Veronica’s voice came through in a screech.

I’d called her as soon as Link had left my house. No one else could walk me through the sinking pit of emotion I was mired in.

I gripped the phone far harder than necessary. “No. I mean, sort of. I told him I needed to think about it.”

“And he was okay with that?”

“No.” I fell back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know. He seemed disappointed, but still hopeful?”

“How do you feel?”

“I don’t know. Worse.”

“Worse than what?”

“I wanted to tell him that I needed some time to myself. You know, to decompress from the trip and to sort things out. Not exactly breaking up with him, I guess. More like doing a trial separation so I could clear my head. But then he got on one knee and proposed, and I sort of panicked.”

When he’d asked me to marry him, my first impulse had been dread. I should have been flattered, maybe even happy. But I didn’t understand myself anymore. There was only one constant in my mind—Sebastian. Thoughts of him pervaded every breath I took. What was he doing now? I glanced to the light overhead where Timothy had removed a tiny camera and microphone. Sebastian couldn’t watch me anymore, but indelible hints of him remained. Not in the light, or his coat, or in anything tangible—he’d gotten inside me. Even though I was free, some part of me was still bound to him.

“—Camille, you there?”

“Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”

“You know I’m not big Link fan, right?”

“Yeah.” I was fairly certain Veronica wanted to kill him during the first month we were together.

“But you went on this trip, and now, suddenly, you want to separate? It’s not like you. And I’m thinking maybe you need more time to sort out how you’re feeling.” She hummed for a second. “If you still want to get rid of him after the cool down period, I’m all for it.”

The urge to tell her the truth about my “trip” rampaged through my skull but stopped before it reached my tongue. If I told her about Sebastian, she’d do something about it—call the police, march down to his office and confront him, set his house on fire—all options were on the table where she was concerned. Though I was angry with him for what he’d done to me, I didn’t want to see him behind bars. Maybe it was the Stockholm Syndrome kicking back in, but the thought of him in an institution made my insides twist.

“You’re probably right.” I glanced to Sebastian’s coat. “I need to sleep on it, at the very least. Oh, how’s your mom?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. Not good. She’s still got a sharp tongue, I can verify. I’ve heard all about how I’m not eating right, dress like a floozy, and need to find a good man to take care of me.”

I laughed. “She’s just the older version of you.”

“Sicker, too.”

Here I was yapping on about my messed-up life while her mother was dying. Guilt sprinkled on top of my other emotions like poison pellets. “I’m sorry.” I wished I could have hugged her. “Is there anything—”

“No, but thanks. You’ve helped me keep my mind off it. All this worrying that you’d been kidnapped by a drug cartel and forced into sex slavery kept me occupied for the last week. Promise me you’ll tell me all about your trip over a bottle or three of red when I get back.”

“I’ll definitely have a story to tell.” I ran my hand down Sebastian’s coat.

“Good. And I know you know, but I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Tears prickled. “Merry Christmas.”

“Same to you.” The line went quiet.

My mind wandered back to the house in the hills. Every day of my captivity was clear in my mind. The kidnapping, the surveillance, the anklet, the library, the greenhouse—the memories created a unique prison.

My captivity was like a peculiar, violent bird; I had to keep it caged and away from everyone lest it tear them to pieces. Including me. I pushed the thoughts of Sebastian down, forcing them to the background. Grabbing his coat, I carried it into the hallway and shoved it in the entryway closet.

I crawled back into bed and closed my eyes. Despite my efforts at locking Sebastian away, images of him lulled me to sleep. His voice and his body pulled me into the darkness—the only place I ever felt truly alive.

“Welcome back.” I loaded my set of PowerPoint slides for the day as the students chattered. A light dusting of snow had fallen overnight, given the Trenton grounds a wintery look for the start of the spring semester.

“How was your trip?” Mint slid into his desk and opened his laptop.

“Great.” I’d tried explaining to him via text that I’d been preoccupied with my work to the point of seeming rude in my texts. He didn’t buy it. No matter how many different points of the Amazon ecosystem I described, how many species of plant I named, he simply refused to believe that I’d ever made it to the airport, much less flown to Brazil. But he seemed appeased that I was none the worse for wear, no matter what he suspected had happened to me.

“Let’s discuss your Christmas break projects on photosynthesis. Jenna, would you like to start?”

A hum began outside, the low sound of several engines approaching.

Jenna stood and adjusted her cat-eye glasses. “Instead of the common photoautotrophs the other students used, I chose a particular version of bacteria that doesn’t synthesize carbon from the atmosphere. Instead, it’s a photoheterotrophs, a bacteria that’s able to convert carbon from other sources to complete photosynthesis.”

Mint stared at Jenna—the same as he did in almost every class last semester—his eyes lighting up. I made a mental note to do some matchmaking.

“Interesting.” I leaned on my desk. “Though photoheterotrophs don’t use carbon from the atmosphere, do they use any other element?”

She shoved a lock of hair behind her ear, a nervous movement that reminded me of myself. “I believe they are nitrogen fixers, but my experiments never yielded a measurable ammonia byproduct.”

Impressed was too mild a word. Maybe I had taught these students as well as I’d hoped. The background hum grew louder, and my pen rattled on my desk.

Heads turned toward the sunny windows. A line of trucks rolled down Campus Drive. Three were laden with building materials—wood, glass, electrical wire. The others carried construction equipment. They pulled up near the greenhouse, the sound of shattering glass cutting through the rumble of engines.

I took off, out my door, down the hallway where I almost bowled Gregory over, and then toward the greenhouse.

“Hey!” Gregory caught up, and we dashed outside as two men in hardhats walked up to the greenhouse’s entrance.

“What are you doing?” I skidded to a stop in front of the men, the icy walk almost spelling my doom.

“Camille.” Gregory didn’t have as much luck with the ice. He slid, stumbled, and fell into me, both of us tumbling to the snowy grass as a cacophony of laughter burst from the classroom windows at our backs.

The nearest man reached down to help me up. I gripped his hand and yanked myself off the ground as the snow melted into the skirt material on my ass.

“You can’t tear this down,” I sputtered.

The second guy in the hardhat scratched his chin. “We aren’t.”

I pointed to the bottom panes of glass that had busted. “What about that?”

“Accident.” The second man shrugged. “We’re going to replace all the glass anyway. It’s part of the expansion.”

Gregory got to his feet and dusted himself off. “Girl, you need to give me a little more warning the next time you go sprinting through the hallway like that. I thought something was on fire.” He adjusted his bow tie back to perfection.

“Sorry.” My face bloomed with heat when I saw all my students staring at me out the windows. “I just assumed—”

“Don’t worry.” The first man smiled. “We have express orders from Mr. Lindstrom and the headmistress that the greenhouse is to be preserved and expanded.” He waved some of the working men over, and they fell into discussions about how to stage the construction.

“Come on.” Gregory pulled me toward the double doors leading back to the hall. “I think we’ve embarrassed ourselves enough for the day.”

I let him lead me inside.

“And did you catch that name? Lindstrom?”

Yeah, I’d caught it. It threatened to knock me on my ass again.

“He’s taken a shine to this place.” He linked his arm through mine. “I was hoping he’d take a shine to me, but I’m pretty sure he only had eyes for you the last time he visited.”

My head spun. When he’d said he’d build Trenton another greenhouse, I assumed that offer expired the moment I ran from his house. Instead, he was making good on it. Giving my students something I could never deliver on my own.

“You all right?” He stopped and turned to inspect my face. “You went all pale. Did you hurt yourself when we fell?”

“I’m okay. Just shocked.” I smoothed my wet skirt.

“I’m not. I saw how he looked at you.” He plucked a blade of dead grass from my hair. “Get on back to class.”

“Right.” I turned to hurry down the hall.

He laughed. “Just don’t turn around for them, okay?”

I pressed my palm to my cold backside and called over my shoulder. “Noted.”

The noise persisted through the rest of the day—men, machines, deliveries. It was the most beautiful music I’d ever heard. The footprint for the new greenhouse was more than double our current space.

During my afternoon break, I stared at my phone. I didn’t have Sebastian’s direct dial, but I found the Lindstrom, Corp. number easily enough. Could I do this? Actually speak to him on the phone?

I glanced out at the construction. He’d done this for me. I had to say thank you. It wasn’t just because I wanted to hear his voice. Not at all.

I dialed and was transferred to his secretary.

“Sebastian Lindstrom’s office.”

“Hi. Yes. This is, um, Camille Briarlane from Trenton. I was hoping to speak to Mr. Lindstrom? To, um, thank him for the greenhouse.”

“I’m sorry, but he’s out of state on business.”

“Oh.” The depth of my disappointment surprised me. I wanted to hear his voice. No, I craved it, and I hated myself for it.

“May I take a message?”

“No, that’s not necessary.” I clicked the phone off and dropped it as if it had burned me.

What was I doing? One good act by the man didn’t erase everything he’d done to me. I leaned back in my chair, the familiar monotone of Dr. Potts soothing me through the wall. Closing my eyes, I went through Sebastian’s sins—surveillance, kidnapping, the sleeping nude, the deals, the kissing, the sex. His hands on me. The look in his eye when he was between my legs, devouring me. The way his hair would muss when I ran my fingers through it. His scent, the feel of his hard body against me. When he was inside me. I shifted in my chair, my panties sticking to me and not because of the melted snow. Now that I wasn’t in his clutches, I could admit he was the sexiest man I’d ever met. A fantasy wrapped in delicious suits with a darkness inside him that burned if you touched it. And I had. I’d luxuriated in it, giving myself to him in a way I’d never done with anyone else. And the worst part—I’d enjoyed every moment of it. He’d gotten to me, reached that secret part inside that scared me. But he’d seen it, tasted it, and he hadn’t judged. Instead, he’d bathed in my own darkness the same way I had in his.

“Camille?”

I jumped as Link strode into my classroom, a bouquet of white daisies in one hand. “Um, hi.” I stood. “What are you doing here?”

He laid the flowers on my desk and pulled me into his arms. “I had an ad meeting out of town, and instead of going back to the office, I figured I’d say the meeting went over.”

“Naughty.” I smiled up at him.

“That’s what you like, isn’t it?” He ran a hand through my hair and kissed me.

I tried not to think about how no flash of desire heated me at his touch, when only moments ago, simple thoughts of Sebastian had set me alight. Guilt tried to drown me, especially when my mind flickered to what I’d given Sebastian, twice—something I’d never offered to Link.

I leaned back. “Not at school.”

His eyes narrowed, but he kept his playful tone. “No funny business at a high school? Please.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past the students, but the teachers have to stick to some level of decorum.” I pecked him on the lips to try and assuage his irritation.

“What about Mint? Have you seen him?”

“Mint? He was in my class as usual. Why?”

“That kid’s horny for you.” He slid a hand down to my ass. “Not that I blame him.”

I slapped his arm. “Hands off, and Mint is just a regular teenager. He doesn’t have any hots for me. But his classmate Jenna? Definitely.”

“Good. He needs to go after girls his own age and leave the women to me.” He smiled, the perfect Abercrombie smile that drew women to him like groupies. “Do you like the flowers?”

“Of course. Plants are my jam.” I didn’t particularly enjoy daisies, but they were pretty enough.

“Good. Coming to the city this weekend, right?”

“Yes.” Maybe having dinner with Link and hanging with Veronica would help me cut through my mixed feelings.

“Maybe we could watch a movie and you could…” He ran his finger down my jawline and stared at my lips. “Sleep over?”

I forced a smile. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.” He kissed me again, more gently this time, then pulled away as the bell rang. “See you in a few days.”

The door opened, and students trickled in for my next class.

Link grinned and spoke far more loudly than necessary. “Good talking with you about those plants and all, Ms. Briarlane.”

I laughed. He was fooling no one, but at least he was amusing in his attempt. Waving, he stepped out of the classroom and disappeared down the hallway.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Taylor asked in between blowing bubbles with her gum. “He is, isn’t he? He’s cute.”

“Let’s focus on science.” I turned my back to her and fiddled with my laptop. But she was right. Link was my boyfriend. Not Sebastian. Maybe I’d been wrong to try and put more space between Link and me.

My phone buzzed. A number I didn’t recognize had sent me a text.

You’re welcome. –S

And just like that, Sebastian had once again placed himself at the forefront of my thoughts.

When I arrived home from the first day of spring semester, I found a collection of boxes sitting on my front porch. There were no shipping labels, nothing to give me any hints about what was inside. But I didn’t have to guess about who they were from. He may not have been watching me anymore, but I could feel his signature on the mysterious packages.

I hauled each one inside and arranged them on my kitchen table.

Armed with scissors, I attacked the first one. Inside, I found a rare orchid, Coleman’s Coral Root. I’d never seen one in person, especially not in bloom. A gorgeous purple bloom highlighted the tip of the longest stem with additional buds radiating down the stalk. I put one hand to my chest, my rapid heartbeat thundering against my palm.

With a quick cut along the seam, I opened the next box. I had to sit down when I found a Ghost Orchid, one of the rarest varieties in the world. Given the complexity of the bloom, scientists still had no idea how the plants were pollinated. My students and I could work on a breakthrough worthy of a scientific journal based solely on this one plant.

I opened the rest, each box containing rare orchids. The contents of these boxes were worth well over the market value of my house. The sun had long since fallen beyond the horizon as I sat and stared at the beautiful plants. I glanced to the already-wilting daisies I’d placed in the sink and then back to the orchids. There was no comparison. But that wasn’t fair. Link didn’t have the means to give me a garden of rare orchids. But he could at least make an attempt to know your favorite flower. I swatted the thought away and started collecting the empty boxes. An envelope dropped from one, and I recognized Sebastian’s sloping script along the front. My name.

I dropped to the floor and sat cross-legged while ripping the envelope open with shaking hands.

Tears splashed onto the paper, the words running with emotion wrung from deep within me. A sob shook my body, and I lay on the cold floor, the letter clutched in my hand. Simple words on a page cut more deeply than any weapon ever could. My heart twisted and bled as I cried. Earlier that day, I’d been set on the right path—the one that led to Link. But with the stroke of Sebastian’s pen, I was spinning out of control, my soul rushing toward him while every molecule of reason I had left pushed me toward Link.

My phone beeped with an incoming text. I ignored it and pressed my cheek to the cold floor as my breathing evened out. It shouldn’t have been a competition. One guy kidnapped me, the other hadn’t. So simple. It wasn’t a choice at all, really. Link was the good guy. He wouldn’t offer to burn down the world for me. That was a good thing, right?

Maybe I should go back to my original plan and push them all away, sit alone in my house, and try to put my life back together on my own.

The phone pinged again. I gave in and reached for it. Another unknown number.

Camille, this is Bill, Sebastian’s father. Would you be available for dinner in the city with me this weekend?

Please?

Mr. Lindstrom hadn’t kidnapped me, but he hadn’t helped me either. Then again, the stories he’d told me about Sebastian’s childhood had been by far the biggest help I’d had in understanding him. Maybe he could help me again. I texted back and agreed to meet.

Once we had our date set, I peeled myself off the floor. Crying about it wouldn’t help. And I was done with tears. I was no one’s captive, no one’s fiancée, no one’s plaything. And I wouldn’t be any of those things unless it was my choice, alone. For the first time in my life, my future was mine, and I didn’t intend to squander it.