Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
T he next morning, I was determined to reclaim my belongings from Isles. Dressed in an oversized sweater and jeans, I tried to project enthusiasm, ready to face the challenges ahead.
Finding the fridge empty, I reluctantly headed to the main house for food and the keys to a car Walsh had stashed away. A sense of trepidation clung to me. The thought of encountering Walsh, especially after last night's emotional turmoil, made me hesitate, but with my tears spent, I resolved to adapt to my new reality as Walsh Solis's wife.
As I approached the back door, I forced a cheerful smile and pushed away the previous day's emotions. It was the same pretense Walsh wore around others. Determined to keep up appearances, I crossed into the house and made my way to the kitchen, where an inviting spread adorned the counter.
Expecting Walsh's presence, I was surprised to find an older woman absorbed in cooking. Her hair was elegantly gathered in a bun, and an apron adorned her modest black dress.
"Hello, dear. Mr. Solis mentioned you'd be awake soon and insisted you have something to eat." She gestured to the table.
"I'll prepare bacon, eggs, toast—anything else you fancy?"
I pulled out a chair, sitting down before looking up at her. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
Before she could respond, a familiar deep voice resonated from across the room. My hope surged as I rose, expecting Walsh to follow, but it was Enzo coming through the doors.
"Ms. Luchesse here is our house manager. She keeps the house tidy and our bellies full." Enzo, dressed in his signature all-black attire, dropped a peck on her cheek before grabbing a plate of sweets from the island.
"Oh," I said, my emotions swirling between disappointment and relief. Disappointment because I had anticipated another encounter with Walsh, ready for the banter or confrontation. Relief because I felt unequipped to respond to him.
"I, uh, thank you." I glanced at the lady, engrossed in her tasks, offering only a curt nod. My appetite vanished, and I lost interest in the food on my plate.
"Eat. He'll be pissed if you haven't." Enzo, now seated beside me, shoveled food into his mouth.
"Where is he?" I asked in a hushed tone.
"Away" was the terse reply. Opting not to press further, I wanted to focus on retrieving my car.
"Can I drive somewhere?" I felt a pang of vulnerability, akin to a child.
"Yeah. There's a driver waiting for you; just tell him where you want to go." The expected response left me feeling foolish, stuck in this unfamiliar house, overwhelmingly alone.
"I want to go get my own car from my house in Isles." I braced myself for Enzo's potential wrath, reminiscent of the previous day at the barn.
"No. The car has been sold at auction. It wasn't worth much, but Walsh deposited the funds into your account." Anxiety rushed back, replacing the air in my lungs. I was about to interject when Enzo continued. "There's a black AMEX card for you on the counter by the food. Use it to get whatever you need while he's...away."
"Where did he go?" I snapped, deliberately infusing annoyance into my tone. Trapped without the familiar surroundings of bars or the busyness of schoolwork, I felt isolated and desperate. "He told me that I could drive anywhere I wanted. He promised me a car."
"While he’s away, you need to remain here for your safety. Mr. Solis has a lot of enemies."
"That doesn’t give him the go-ahead to just sell my fucking car. What am I supposed to do all day?" Enzo remained stoic. In fact, he seemed annoyed at my outburst.
"I don't know…do yoga?" I rolled my eyes as I stood, the chair flying back from the force.
"Fuck that."
Enzo stood, but slower than me. "I told you that you can leave, but you just have to take a driver with you."
I crossed the distance between us and grabbed his hoodie. "Please. I cannot be stuck in this house. You don’t understand what it’s like to feel confined to a place with no escape route for me. It brings up so much…fear."
I tried to get him to understand that I needed to be able to drive myself. For a moment, I saw sadness in Enzo’s eyes, but he only backed away.
"Sorry." He shrugged, and the tears started flowing after I thought they’d had enough yesterday.
I whispered, "Please."
He’d trapped me in the house, which was my worst fear. I cried as I curled up on the couch, and the minutes ticked by loudly on the clock in the corner of the room.
"Please. Don’t trap me."