Chapter 16 Aurora #2
No, of course I’m not curious about him. I’m definitely not trying to humanize him. There’s no excusing what he’s done to me. I think.
Enough thinking. Enough rationalizing.
I want to go into that room, and I will.
To get inside, I’ll need paperclips or bobby pins. I’ve never broken into anywhere before, but with nothing but time, I head back to the den.
The desk drawers aren’t locked, and one of them holds office supplies.
Two new paperclips are in my possession.
Adrenaline floods my veins as I rush back to the locked door.
The forbidden one.
This lock isn’t as complicated as the one on the front door seems to be. A few maneuvers, and…
Click.
I’m inside.
In Everett’s secret room.
The blinds are sealed shut. I can’t see anything.
Searching the wall to my right, I find a light switch. As soon as my fingers flip it, a soft glow floods the room.
And my jaw drops to the floor.
Look at all these books. These bookshelves.
They line the walls, reaching as high as the ceiling. A wooden ladder leans against one of them.
“Holy…” I close the door behind me as gently as possible.
Before I saw what’s in here, I ached for Everett’s company. Either that, or learning about my captor and his many secrets.
Now that I’m in this room, my sad reality is pushed to the back of my mind.
This place, I need an hour, two, or a million in it.
I don’t want Everett to drag me out before I’ve had a chance to take in this mini-library.
In addition to books, two leather recliners are positioned in one corner. Another charcoal-gray loveseat is further inside the room by the fireplace.
My gaze bounces across the room. Over the numerous spines. Leather spines. Paperback spines.
I can hardly make out what each of them says; I’m so blown away.
Books weren’t allowed in our household. Probably because of my constant pleas to have them.
This must’ve been why this room was locked. Maybe this is how rich, sadistic assholes torture their victims, by withholding books, entertainment, everything that makes life bearable.
Resentment is an old, corrosive knife that’s been buried between my ribs for as long as I can remember.
Neither he nor my parents will ever stop me from reading ever again.
This house has books in it, and I will read them, goddammit.
With this new resolve, I take the first steps forward. After a closer look, I’m finally able to focus on the titles and subjects.
Everett has history books, law books, and biographies. There are more ahead of me.
More shelves. More books.
The further I go, I notice how sparkling everything is. Everything’s been kept in perfect condition.
Not for my benefit though. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have kept the room barricaded.
My shoulders slump, which is silly.
A glimmer of kindness might shine through Everett every once in a while, but that’s all it is. A glimmer.
In the grand scheme of things, he wants to hurt me.
Yet here you are, in this room, after spending the afternoon looking for him, your captor.
Ugh. Whatever. I blink away the rising sadness. Go over to another shelf.
The titles over here make me smile. They sound like fiction books—there’s no war, stock market, or a person’s name on them.
I touch each and every spine. These are the first fiction books I’ve ever seen.
Oh, I’m delving into those first. I’ll read all of them.
Right after I’ve completed my tour. The tour that Everett never planned on giving me.
What was I thinking, getting attached to him? Clearly, I wasn’t.
I haven’t been looking at it like I should.
His possessiveness during the wedding ceremony? That wasn’t about protecting me. It was about getting back at my parents for whatever they did to him. They must have done something.
I can’t imagine him wanting to marry a girl he hates and rubbing it in her father’s face for no reason.
Maybe she was his fiancée and Everett wasn’t the one who killed her.
Maybe it was Dad.
Briefly, I consider the idea before dismissing it altogether.
My parents know that getting locked up is one of the worst things that can ever happen to a person. They wouldn’t have dared murdering anyone if it meant they’d end up in a cage.
I think.
They had to have hurt Everett in another way.
And now I’m a pawn in his revenge.
An unhinged laugh bubbles up inside me. Hating the sad, pathetic sound, I slap a hand over my mouth and walk deeper into the room.
Where another surprise awaits.
Old, worn-out books have been arranged in a square shape. They frame something.
Curious, I edge closer.
My eyes bulge out at what I find there.
A collage of family pictures has been bolted to the wall. Photos of young Everett, smiling next to three people I haven’t met or seen before.
Two of them must be his parents. The similarities between them are uncanny.
They hug him tightly. Him and this young girl.
This girl, she has to be the girl, the mysterious she. She’s beaming. She has such a beautiful smile.
Everything about her is beautiful. Her blue eyes. Her hair, so dark it’s almost black.
In some of the photos, Everett’s smiling back at her.
Genuinely smiling at the younger girl.
Jealousy tastes sour and acidic on my tongue.
No one’s ever offered me a smile as bright and loving.
My parents are always either bored with me or mad at me.
My tutors, our staff, and my security detail always maintained a wall of separation between us.
The Royalty members don’t give a damn about me.
This girl, she had that. Three people who laughed at something she said.
One of them was Everett. She had his love. His awe. His adoration. He doesn’t seem to be in love with her. He just looks happy to be spending time together, with her and his parents.
This has to be the girl he mentioned before our wedding.
Is she his sister?
Is or was?
After another close inspection, I decide they aren’t related. Can’t be.
On the outside, she and his family are polar opposites.
Who is she?
“Aurora.” Everett’s sharp voice stops my heart. The air whooshes out of my lungs. “What the hell are you doing in here?”