Chapter 9

Penelope

I walk across the thick carpet of the sitting room, careful to avoid getting into his space. I’ve spent the last thirty minutes sitting at the dining table, slowly getting the courage to move because I’m not sure how to act around him.

I don’t want to piss him off, but since he hasn’t spoken a word to me since coming back to the room, I’m unsure of myself. The only time he’s broken his silence was to ask me what I wanted when it was time to order dinner. I had no appetite, but the moment the food touched my tongue, I couldn’t stop eating.

Now, he sits in one of the matching chairs in the area designated for sitting with a newspaper in his face. Specifically, the sports section. Funny, I didn’t take him as a sports lover; then again, I don’t know him very well.

“Penny,” his voice interrupts my thoughts, and I flinch at the sound of it. I look over at him. “Are you going to stand in the middle of the room, or did you need something?”

I blink and look around. He’s right. I am standing in the middle of the room. Only I don’t remember stopping.

“I’m sorry. I must’ve got lost in my thinking,” I murmur and finish crossing to the couch. I sit down and place my hands on my knees.

“Is everything all right?” he asks while watching me from behind his newspaper.

“Yes,” I respond, but it’s a robotic response. He frowns and folds up the newspaper before placing it down on the table next to him.

“Are you sure?” I look at him and smile before giving him a nod. I can see he doesn’t believe me. “I know what I said to you this morning threw you off, but don’t be afraid to talk to me. What happened to the brazen woman who didn’t hesitate to question my sexual orientation?”

I shrug and smile nervously. I don’t know what it is about this man, but even as I prepare myself for his unholy wrath, I want to believe I’m overreacting. If I do open up to him, I could regret it later.

“You still don’t trust me.” He’s an observant man, and I realize I’m not going to be able to get anything past him.

“Considering I’ve been bought and paid for many times in the last few months, trust is a difficult trait to invest in.” I slap a hand across my mouth, regretting my inability to control the sudden outburst of words.

“Stop doing that,” he growls. The sound makes my heart jump. “Stop being afraid of me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I can’t. It’s not exactly easy to trust you, or anyone for that matter,” I respond, biting down on my lower lip. My stomach is in knots.

“I understand, and with time, I know you will believe me, but for now, please stop acting like I’m going to morph into some monster,” he breathes, raking his hand through his blond hair. I shift from my spot on the couch to tuck my legs up under my chin. I watch him swallow hard as his eyes study the skin on my legs. “What can I do to prove I’m not the monster you think I am?”

“Let me go.” There’s no hesitation in my voice because my freedom is all I can think about. Ever since I was pulled away from my family, freedom is all I’ve dreamed of. He sighs, and I can see in his eyes he wants to, but there is something stopping him.

He’s lying to you, my mind screams, but my heart says otherwise. She senses there is much going on, things I don’t see, and she wants to hear him out.

“If I could, I would.” His voice is calm, but there is sadness in it, and for a moment I wonder if I’m not the only one trapped here in this life.

He’s the one who brought you here. He’s the one behind it all. I cringe. My mental state is tripping over itself, trying desperately to try to forget the way he’s tugging at my heart strings.

“You would if you could,” I snort because I’m desperate to hang on to the anger my mind wants me to feel. “Do you know how many times I’ve been told that since all of this started?”

“Once is one too many—”

“And yet, here I am, prisoner in this room.”

“I don’t want you here any more than you want to be, but neither of us has the choice right now. Both of our lives depend on it.”

“You make no sense. You say one thing but do just the opposite.”

“I did not choose this life—”

“But here you sit.” I stand and throw my arms wide for dramatic flair. My stepfather always said I was too dramatic for my own good, and usually I would tone it back because I wanted to make him happy. But right now, in this moment, I could give two shits to the things he said to me or about me. He’s the real reason why I’m trapped in this room. Him and greed.

“I didn’t want to choose you. Hell, I didn’t want to choose anyone. I’m not this man,” he says, only there isn’t anything dramatic about the way he talks to me. Nope. He’s cool as a cucumber.

“Then let me go. Blindfold me, drive me far away from here, and I promise not to tell anyone about you or how I got here.” I cross the room and stop in front of him. I feel more desperate now than ever. If there is a chance of getting out of this, it must be through him. And I’m willing to do anything to make it happen. “Please, you have to know you’re my only chance at freedom.”

“I know, and that’s why I can’t let you go. Not yet. Not now. Please, if you ever believe the words out of my mouth, then believe these. You will be free one day, but it can’t be today.” His eyes plead with me, and as I study their depths, I realize he’s telling me the truth. My mother always told me you can tell a person’s character by the heartache they carry in their eyes, and in his, I see more heartache than any one person should know.

You’re a fool, my mind rails against me, but how can I ignore the pain inside of him? Pain is pain, no matter the reasons behind it.

“Okay,” I whisper, feeling my chest constrict with emotion. I feel like I’m giving up a big piece of myself, a piece I vowed not to lose at the beginning of this journey.

Am I crazy? Maybe, but the whispering of fate around me gives me hope.

Hope that at the end of this, we’ll both walk away whole and more than we were at the start.