Chapter Twenty-Five
Chloe
My eyes were too dry and heavy to open. I could barely breathe through my nose, and my head was relentlessly pounding from crying myself to sleep last night.
I pushed myself up in the bed, turning away from the harsh morning sunlight.
The fire had long burned out, leaving only cold ashes behind. I finally sat up, wrapping the blanket around me, taking a deep breath.
Exhaustion was weighing down every part of my body, making it feel as if I hadn’t slept at all.
But I know I had, because the haunting images of Zane’s intense gaze and his raw and primal nature replayed in my dreams, over and over again.
He didn’t force me into anything. For a minute, I wanted it. I wanted everything he was doing to me and more… he’d even stopped the moment I asked him to. Yet, I felt used, dirty and couldn’t shake this feeling away… I was hurt.
I was more hurt by the fact he’d refused to kiss me in a vulnerable moment than with anything else.
Why would that hurt me like that?
What’s wrong with me?
I made my way toward the window, the blanket dragging behind me, and I watched the sun rising on the horizon. I tried to find other houses in the distance, but there were none; this place was really tucked away from civilization.
In other circumstances, this would have been such a beautiful place to live.
But a golden cage is still a cage.
I would never settle for a bed and a nice view. I had to free myself before I fell too far into a point of no return. But how? Even if I managed to escape, coyotes would probably find me first then I’d find help, if I even survived that far by myself.
Pressing my forehead against the cold glass I let the thoughts race in my head. I had to find a way to convince Zane I was innocent, or, find a quicker way to pay my debt.
Then a silver Mercedes emerging from the driveway caught my attention. It circled the fountain and slowed to a stop at the entrance of the house.
Zane walked out seconds later, dressed as if about to walk into the meeting of his life—sharp, masculine, sexy as hell.
It was infuriating how someone like him could look that good all the time.
Then, a blonde woman stepped out of the car to greet him. Even with her oversized sunglasses covering most of her face, the way her super short dress clung to her body made it obvious—it was Arianna.
She kissed him on the cheek and her hands lingered on his chest while they talked about something.
They looked intimate, close. Too close.
I watched their exchange, Arianna laughing loudly at something he said.
Her body language couldn’t possibly have been more relaxed or flirtier and pang of jealousy surged through me, irrational and fierce.
I didn’t want to care, didn’t want to feel anything for him, but seeing them like this was twisting my stomach into knots.
Just when I was trying to convince myself that what I felt about this man couldn’t be real, this scene unfolded before my eyes, leaving me feeling like a jealous girlfriend ready to claw that woman.
To make it worse, they both entered the car. Zane took the driver’s seat, and they drove off to God knew where. And whatever they were about to do together, I couldn’t imagine it not ending in sex, especially after I’d heated him up for her.
Was he really leaving with another woman first thing in the morning after what had happened between us last night?
Of course he would. He was a man. Of course he would look elsewhere for what I’d denied him.
I’d dealt with men like him my whole life.
I didn’t know why I kept expecting him to be different.
Days passed, without catching a glimpse of Zane and it was bothering me more than I cared to admit.
I caught myself trying to catch the sound of his footsteps often, glancing toward the door half-hoping to see him appear in the doorway, although I wasn’t even sure if he had been in the house during this time.
Hours were quickly bleeding into days, and though I was grateful for the solitude for the most part, time started to blur together with my sanity.
At first, I wasn’t sure if he was still pissed at me or simply giving me time to adjust. But now I was convinced it was a type of punishment: let me be until it drove me mad.
And maybe it was working because the silence was being filled with paranoia, ticking sounds I knew didn’t exist and imaginary scenarios I couldn’t turn off, like imagining Malia worrying herself sick trying to contact me.
Realizing that if I stayed missing too long, she’d start looking for me, knocking on all the wrong doors, pulling all kinds of dangerous attention her way.
I couldn’t let that happen, the thought alone made my skin itch with anxiety. I didn’t know how, but I needed to get out of here.
The sun was already setting when I heard a car pulling up outside, and my heart dropped as the engine turned off. I didn’t have to get up from bed to know it was him.
Moments later, I heard footsteps through the hallway.
Firm, graceful even, and absolutely unmistakable.
Thump, thump, thump. My heartbeat and his footsteps harmonized.
I held my breath, anticipating the door to swing open without warning, but then the steps kept going… fading away.
He didn’t even pause. Didn’t seem to care if I was alive, awake, or losing my mind behind this door.
Maybe he was already growing bored of me, or maybe me thinking that had been his plan all along. Either way, I didn’t have the luxury of time to wait around and see how it played out. I couldn’t keep waiting for Zane’s change of heart to magically happen.
Because, unlike the blonde, I had an expiration date and once Zane found no use for me—or worse, got bored of me—I knew what could happen.