Chapter 18
June
I’ve been locked in this damn room for hours. Today’s the day of Ryker’s big meeting—the one he warned me about a couple of days ago. He told me to stay out of sight, threatened me not to make a scene. So here I am, stuck in this room, pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
I sit on the bed, thinking about the other day when I went swimming. The way Ryker looked at me—hungry, torn, suspicious. It’s obvious he wants me. I could feel the telltale sign between his legs. A rather big telltale sign, if I remember correctly. Feeling his enormous erection at my entrance did more to me than I cared to admit in that moment. And the way he grabbed me… so firm, so possessive. No one ever touched me like this.
I wanted him; I want him still. But I was pushing too far in the pool. I could see it in his eyes; he doesn’t trust me. I was too brazen, too willing for a girl who is supposed to be afraid of him.
Am I afraid of him, though? There were moments when his demeanor frightened me, when I could see the dark soul of a criminal in his eyes—a murderer, if you ask me. There’s one death he’s definitely responsible for, even if he doesn’t seem to be aware of it. I must never forget that.
But I have to be more careful. He needs to trust me, and I might destroy everything if I don’t get him to trust me without being too brash. I need to act more carefully, more reserved and demure. I am his prisoner, after all. I remind myself of that every time I get too comfortable, like now, when I can’t even leave this room without his permission. The locked door is proof enough that I’m still nothing more than a pawn to him.
I walk over to the window, scanning the beautiful landscape before me, while my mind wanders back to the way his hand grazed my skin under the water. The heat in his eyes before he pulled away. It hurt when he rejected me, more than I want to admit. I didn’t just want something to happen because I’m trying to get close to him for my plan—no; I wanted it for other reasons. Darker, more confusing reasons.
Ryker is infuriating. Dangerous. But he’s also hot as hell. And I can’t stop thinking about him.
I’ve been trying my best to behave for the past couple of days, trying not to piss him off. I’ve kept my head down, played the part of the obedient captive, hoping he’d circle back to me. Hoping for more kisses, more moments where he lets his guard down.
But there’s been nothing. He was adamant to keep his distance. No more kisses, no more stolen glances. Just silence when we saw each other at all. I spent most of my time in the garden, keeping busy by pulling weeds, while he hides away in his office or sits in the kitchen, his hard eyes always on me, making sure I don’t escape or do anything stupid. We hardly even talked and dinner comprised sandwiches he brought up to my bedroom. He’s obviously trying to punish me for that little stunt at the pool.
I wander over to the door, pressing my ear against it, straining to hear something—anything. Ryker never told me what kind of meeting he’s having, just that I’m supposed to stay out of sight, out of earshot, and definitely out of trouble.
But if he locked me in here, then it has to be something important. Something he doesn’t want me knowing about.
And if it’s important to him, it might be important to my mission.
I close my eyes, trying to catch a sound—voices, footsteps, anything that might give me a clue. But all I get is silence. I don’t even know where they’re having their meeting. In his office? I doubt the room is big enough for that. Downstairs in the open dining area? Is that why he locked me up in here? Frustration bubbles up inside me. He’s keeping me in the dark, literally and figuratively, and it’s driving me crazy.
I need to get out of here. I need to know what’s going on. I glance around the room, my mind racing, trying to come up with a plan.
Then, an idea hits me as my eyes land on the ancient door lock. My bra. The wire! Maybe I can use it to pick the lock. It’s not the most promising idea, but it’s all I’ve got.
I move quickly and run over to the dresser where I’m keeping my clothes and grab one of my bras. My fingers tremble as I pull the wire out, the thin metal slipping free from the fabric.
I hurry back to the door and crouch down, sliding the wire into the lock with shaky hands. I take it out again and bend it carefully, trying to shape it just right so it’ll fit inside the lock. It’s harder than I thought it would be, and I have to bend the wire again and again, adjusting it with every failed attempt. The tension builds inside me with each passing second, my heartbeat echoing in my ears. What if Ryker catches me? What if I can’t get the door open?
But I push those thoughts away. I have to get out. I need to know what’s happening.
Finally, after what feels like forever, I hear a soft click, and I almost gasp with relief. The lock gives way, and the door creaks open.
I’m free.