Nineteen
Eve
The pancakes and bacon I ate roil in my stomach as I squeeze myself, feet first, through the toilet window. If anyone walks past, they’ll get a full frontal view of my panties, but I can’t bring myself to care.
I need to get away.
Alone with Gabriel, I could almost convince myself nothing was real, but sitting at that table with his friends ripped away that fragile bit of comfort. These men are keeping women as slaves. Taking them from their lives and training them.
It’s real. If I don’t get away, I could be stuck here forever. Who knows what they do to brainwash women into behaving? The jogger I saw this morning, all by herself, enjoying a morning run as though she wasn’t a prisoner… I could end up like her if I don’t get out.
The window frame digs into my hip, but I push through, landing in an ungraceful heap. My knees jar on the ground, scraping, but at least I don’t do something stupid like twist an ankle. On my feet, I try to find my bearings.
I’m in a little alley, and it stinks. Kitchen garbage. The restrooms were on the far side of the refectory, away from the courtyard, so if I run directly away from the building, I should be going the right way, toward the forest and whatever the heck lives in it.
I race away from the building. This area isn’t clean and shiny like the rest of the place. There are several sheds, filled with tools and gardening equipment, and the floor is a rough-poured concrete slab, which gives way abruptly to forest detritus. In front, a blacktop road strikes out into the looming forest.
A road. A way out. My heart goes crazy, slamming against my ribs and urging me to run. I got lucky. It probably won’t happen again.
The sandals rub my feet as I race along the road. Gabriel must have realized I’m missing by now. He’s lean and looks fast. He can probably run twice as fast as me. I curse all the times I rolled over in bed with a groan and shooed Billie away when she tried to get me to join her on her 6:00 a.m. jogs.
If I’d gone with her, maybe my lungs wouldn’t already be crying for help. Maybe my legs wouldn’t be getting heavier by the second.
I suck in air that doesn’t seem to be doing much good as I approach a bend in the road. How far away am I from civilization? How long will I have to run? Because judging by my current performance, I won’t get far. Maybe I should head off the road, into the trees? If I stay on this open road, Gabriel will definitely find me.
I veer off to the side, slowing to a walk as I push into the scratchy trees. Their branches seem to have a personal vendetta against me, scratching my arms and snagging on the sundress skirt. Bits of forest junk spike into my shoes. This outfit isn’t suitable for an escape.
“Eve!” Gabriel’s voice rips through the air, and I jump even though I’m far enough into the trees that he won’t be able to see me from the road. I can see him, though, head turning this way and that. “Eve, if you’re in there, come out. You won’t like what’s around the bend. Just come out now, and I’ll take you home.”
For one crazy moment, I imagine he means my home. My little house. But he doesn’t, of course. He means the room where he’ll probably chain me up forever. I keep moving, trying not to make a sound, following the line of the road.
A bird chirps a sharp alarm call. Then another and another, echoing out in a loud, panicked cloud of sound. Gabriel’s head whips toward me. Crap. They’ve given me away. Stealth is no longer an option, so I run.
If the trees hated me before, they despise me now. Branches seem to come out of nowhere, lacerating me. Behind me, running footsteps pound, quickly replaced with the crunch of boots on the forest floor.
Sweat sticks the dress to my skin, and panic blurs my vision as I push onward. Ahead, the road curves, and I follow it, sticking to the tree line as Gabriel smashes through the brush, getting closer.
I’m so focused on not getting murdered by branches that I don’t register the light in front of me until I almost break through the trees. Light, right ahead, where there should be more forest. I don’t dare slow, though, so I race out through the tree line. I stop dead when I see what lies ahead.
A solid metal wall. It slices through the trees, smooth and unclimbable, even if I were to ignore the huge “Danger! Deadly Voltage” signs plastered along it. Vicious barbed wire decorates the top. Where the road hits it, there’s a guard tower manned by two men with scary guns. A hairline crack in the smooth expanse hints at a gate .
It stretches out in each direction as far as I can see. All hope drains from me as Gabriel comes up from behind and wraps an arm around my waist. “I said you wouldn’t like it. You might as well see it, though, I suppose. It wraps the whole compound, and we have men stationed every thirty feet. Nothing gets in or out.”
I picture the jogger again, but this time in a different light. Did she run for the gate herself? Maybe try to escape over and over, until she finally gave up and decided to make the best of things here?
Trapped.
The world shrinks as something tight wraps my heart. This is it. This weird, manicured place is where he wants to keep me forever. A luxurious prison. But small. So, so small. And protected by a goddamn army.
My throat tightens, breath rasping in and out with effort. It feels as though all the blood in my body has moved to my head, pounding in my temples.
Trapped.
If I don’t get it together, I’ll collapse to the ground and scream. I can’t. If I start, I might never stop. My hands ball into fists, as I push Gabriel's arm off me and whirl on him. “How can you do this? Live here like some darn cartel lord with a load of assholes and their captive slaves?”
He flinches. Even in my anger, I notice it. However much he tries to act like he’s cool with all of this, there’s a part of him that sees the wrongness of it. He doesn’t feel like a psychopath. Maybe he’s been brainwashed, too.
Or maybe I’m just clutching at straws.
He looks up and lets out a breath, before studying me up and down. His brows crease as he takes in my scratches and the ripped dress. “You’re hurt. ”
His words bring the pain forward, sharp, stinging slices on my skin I barely noticed as I ran. It’s almost welcome, a distraction from that terrible wall and what it represents.
He holds out a hand. “Come on. Let's get you cleaned up.”
He didn’t answer my question, but at least he seems concerned about me. In his own way, maybe he is. I shoot a last glance at the wall, then back to Gabriel’s hand. A horrible thought crawls forward.
In this place, he’s the only person who cares about me.
No one who loves me has any idea I’m here. If I need protection, Gabriel is all I have. If I run, where am I going to go? Throw myself at an electrified fence? With one last swallow, I take his hand.
His body relaxes, and he wraps my hand tightly. “Good. That’s good. You’ve seen the worst of it now. There’s so much else I wanted to show you, but it’ll have to wait for another day.”
The rest of the tour. He says it like I’m on vacation, goddamn him. I should push to see it, but everything feels heavy, and I don’t think I’d take it in properly. Another day. It’s not like I’m going anywhere any time soon.
I try to find a scrap of hope. This ill-advised dash into the woods was never going to work, but something else might. I need to believe it. “Maybe tomorrow?”
“I don’t think so. I trusted you with too much too soon.” He’s shifting again, the stern version of him coming back into focus. He tugs on my hand. “Come on. I need to treat those cuts before they get infected, and then…” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “I’m going to punish you. You shouldn’t have run.”
Punish. A spiky word coated in terrible memories of bruises and split skin. Loneliness and hunger. My body locks up, cringing away from it. I freeze despite his insistent tugging, staring at the ground. “No. Please don’t. I can’t— ”
He spins me to face him and takes my other hand in his. “Eve. Look at me.” I don’t want to, but his voice and the strength of his hands on mine pulls my head up. His eyes are glassy dark pools, and I can’t place the expression. “I promised I wouldn't hurt you, and I meant it.”
It shouldn’t reassure me, given where we are, but somehow, it does. It feels like the truth, and I cling to it. As we start to walk, a single bright thread of curiosity finds its way through the dread. If he isn’t going to hurt me, what will his punishment entail? It’s not as though he can ground me or ban me from my phone.
We walk back to the main part of the Compound in silence as I turn the possibilities over. He brings me in a different route. Probably for the best—I don’t think I could have faced his friends.
More people have emerged, and the green space that makes up the middle of the Compound could be an inner-city park at 8:00 a.m. People walk, clutching coffees or chatting together. And not just men.
Two women walk dogs on leashes. One is a small yappy thing that keeps jumping up, and the other a big brown lab. I can't stop staring, and one of the women catches my eye. She wears a dazzling white pantsuit and looks to be in her late fifties or early sixties, with shiny brown hair chopped short. She smiles at me and waves.
Gabriel mutters something under his breath as she veers toward us. “Hello! I haven't seen you here before. Are you new, dear?”
“I…” I falter. The correct response seems to be “Yes,” but it won't come out. Yes, thanks, I was just kidnapped yesterday. How lovely. Isn't the weather pleasant today?
She scans my scratches and ripped clothes, then turns a frown on Gabriel. “Really. You need to look after her better. "
“I…” Gabriel fares no better than I did, starting to speak before giving up in the face of her glare. She focuses all her attention on me.
“It's hard here at first, but you'll get used to it. I run the ladies’ social club. Our afternoon tea is today, but I expect you need a bit more time to settle in. So, I'll see you Saturday for our weekly brunch.”
She rounds on Gabriel, and her voice takes on an edge. “That won't be a problem, will it?”
He sighs. “No. She'll be there.”
“Good.” She pats my shoulder and gives me another brilliant smile. “See you Saturday.”
She rejoins her friend, and they head off toward the pool, chattering conspiratorially.
“Perfect.” Gabriel tugs my hand, urging me to follow. “Now everyone will be talking about you.”
“Who was that?”
“Portia Vorstein. Her Patron was the head of the Brotherhood until he died and Kendrick took over. She and Kendrick are very close.”
“He died, and she's still here?”
Gabriel gives me a quizzical look. “What did you think would happen?”
“I don't know. I haven't had a chance to think about anything yet.”
His face softens. “I know.”
“What’s the social club?”
“Some of the Wards get together regularly. Most of them, actually. They do all sorts of events. Portia is the queen bee. Don't get on her bad side, and you'll be fine.”
So not only am I enslaved, there are also social events to worry about? Wonderful.
My sigh brings a smile to his lips. “Don't fancy it? I'll keep you chained to the bed instead. Your wish is my command.”
He pauses, sketches an elaborate bow that reminds me of his showman-like, magic show persona, then keeps on walking. I stumble to catch up, and my brain finally kicks into gear. A social club means people, freedom, information. “I didn't say I didn't want to go.”
“We'll see. You need to show me you can behave first.”
His tone is abruptly serious again, and this time, it scratches the edges of my nerves. “I don't think you want to get on Portia's bad side, either.”
He makes a sharp, surprised noise. “No one does. But disciplining you would be worth the scolding.”
We reach the door to Gabriel’s building. Not “our” building. I won't think of it like that. As we enter, my stomach revolts, tying itself into taut knots. Punishment. It's getting closer. Can I trust him to keep his word? This is where I find out.
Hoping I can trust my kidnapper. Ridiculous.
Each step is harder than the last. By the time we reach the door, I'm sweating, and my mouth has that weird metallic taste that comes with fear. What is he going to do? We enter, and instead of leading me to the bedroom as I expected, Gabriel brings me into the middle of the living room.
The space is posh but bland and has the feel of a temporary dwelling. A furnished apartment for rich people. Classy but boring paintings, a color scheme of gray, white, and black with a few artful splashes of color here and there. There's no love gone into this place. No hand-picked, interesting objects or artwork.
The only things out of place are a huge, old-fashioned wooden cabinet containing dozens of tiny drawers, and a massive desk with four PCs and a mass of screens. My interest sharpens. Can I access the internet from there?
Gabriel clicks his fingers, and I spin to face him. He's seated on a small brown leather sofa, and his eyes are dark. His lips part as he studies me.
“Eyes on me, Eve. First, I need to see how bad those cuts are.” He leans forward, hands resting on his knees.
“Strip.”