Chapter 25
Denver
Iopen my eyes to darkness, but it isn’t as thick as usual.
The curtains are drawn, and I’m nestled in a bed, the covers pulled high, clean silk pajamas soft against my skin.
The last thing I remember is being curled up on the floor of that room, the floor damp from urine, my head pounding, the tears dried out.
How did I get out?
The lamp in the corner is on, and sitting in the armchair beside it is Kitrick. He’s on his phone, looking bored.
“I’m out?” I whisper.
“Yes, you are,” he says, his eyes remaining on his screen. “You were barely in there three days. Lucky you.”
I’d hardly call myself lucky, but I’m too tired to argue. I reach out a shaking hand for the glass of water by my bed. It’s warm, stale, but I finish it quickly.
“You’ll never survive this unless you learn to keep your mouth shut,” he adds.
“Thanks for the advice.”
When I place the glass back on the nightstand, Kitrick is glaring at me.
“And right there is your problem.” He locks his phone and slides it into his pocket, resting his forearms on his thighs as he watches me.
“Do you know how many women have died in that room? And they spoke back a hell of a lot less than you do.” My fingers curl into the bedding, but I say nothing.
“If Eli asks me to hurt you, I’ll do it because it puts money in my pocket.
He does it because he enjoys it. Stop pushing your fucking luck. ”
“Why do you care?” I whisper.
He snorts a laugh. “Caring is a real stretch, Deluxe. You know who did care, though? Chris.” My brows pull together in confusion.
“Wow. You don’t even remember him, and he’s the one who died for taking you out of that room early.
” My heart becomes a quickened, painful beat.
“He thought he could shower, feed you, and put you back without Eli noticing. Had some weak notion that he was looking after you. I caught him spoon-feeding you soup.” Idealistic prick.
” He leans back in the chair and takes his phone out again. “Now he’s dead.”
“And you killed him?” I whisper through gritted teeth, my vision blurring with tears.
He shrugs. “You’re an asset. I’m paid to keep you in this house. He’s lucky I made it quick.”
I sit up, ignoring the swimming in my head as my hunger takes hold. “You’re a fucking monster.”
“You’re not heeding my advice, Denver.”
“Fuck your advice!”
He’s out of his chair and over to me so fast that I barely have time to take in a breath or move away. His fingers grip my jaw until I almost yelp with pain.
“This is your last warning, Deluxe.” His voice is low, dripping with the need to hurt me. “Keep this shut, otherwise I’ll make use of it in a way you won’t fucking like. Am I making myself clear?” I don’t move, and his hold on me tightens.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He releases me and goes to the curtains, yanking them open, the metal hoops screeching against the pole. Sunlight bursts into the room and I wince, closing my eyes. “You have thirty minutes to get ready for breakfast, otherwise I’ll come back and dress you myself.”
He leaves, the door snapping closed behind him, and I sink back into the covers and try not to cry.
I survived, but I don’t think I could do another stint in that room. My stubbornness is going to get me killed, but it’s the only weapon I have. Otherwise, I’m powerless. Totally at Eli’s mercy.
Wiping away tears, I allow myself a few minutes, then I shower, dress, and leave my room. Kitrick is where he always is and gives me the same short nod he has for weeks. We go downstairs, but the dining room is empty.
“Where’s Eli?” I ask him.
“Just eat your breakfast. Do not move from that seat until I’m back.” He leaves the room, and I exhale deeply, grateful to be alone.
I’m served porridge, which I eat greedily, even though my stomach aches from my sudden fullness. Next is a bowl of fruit. The housekeeper stands quietly by the hot food as I eat. She’s older than me, her dark hair pulled back into a low bun, her head down.
“What’s your name?” I ask, and even though she tenses, she doesn’t respond.
I glance at the open doorway, then back at her, and keep my voice low.
“My name is Denver. Have you … seen anything about me online? Do people know I’m missing?
Has anyone released a statement about me?
” Her head remains down. I sigh, slumping back in my seat.
I spoon the strawberries from the bowl to my plate and start cutting them into love heart shapes.
“Probably best you don’t speak to me anyway. You’ll end up dead, too.”
“Dead?”
My head snaps up. Her light eyes are fixed on me, and I inch my chair forward. “Yeah. Chris … one of the men here died. Kitrick killed him for getting me out.”
She frowns. “Chris got you out?”
A banging from the kitchen has her jolting back into the side table, and we both fall silent. Minutes pass before she speaks again.
“Chris wouldn’t have done that,” she whispers. “Chris is … was… the worst of all of them. If he got you out, it wasn’t for anything good.”
My skin chills. Did he hurt me?
“He won’t have touched you. We’d have heard about that … we all hear when … that stuff happens,” she says, and when I raise my eyes, she’s by Eli’s chair, her delicate fingers gripping the wood. “And Kitrick would have been furious if it had.”
My laugh is brittle. “Right.”
“He would,” she says quietly. “Kitrick is a good man.”
“Kitrick killed Chris,” I say. “And he threatened to assault me not long ago.”
She shakes her head slowly, her eyes wide and doe like. “Don’t believe everything—”
Footsteps silence her and she darts back to her position, lowering her head and holding her hands behind her back as Eli strides into the room.
“Good morning, my songbird,” Eli says brightly, sitting in his usual chair. “You look beautiful. Have you learned your lesson?”
I try not to stare at the housekeeper and instead address him. “Yes … I’m sorry. For hurting you.”
Eli’s smile seems almost real. It’s frightening how easily he can slip from hot to cold. “Apology accepted. I can’t stay mad at the mother of my child, can I?”
It takes monumental self-control not to stab him in the throat. If I thought I’d make it out of this house alive, I’d do it.
“So,” Eli says, “are you excited to see the baby?”
“We’re … we’re still going?”
“Of course! I’m just as excited as you are.” He reaches for my hand and kisses my knuckles, his lips lingering. “And we can discuss payment later.”
I’m about to ask what payment he means when Kitrick’s voice interrupts us.
“What time should I get the car ready for?”
Eli releases my hand. “Twenty minutes. Robin is going to change into something prettier for our first outing.”
My mind is on Colt as I get ready. I think about his smile as I change my clothes, his laugh when I slip on my shoes, his touch as I leave my room.
Eli is at the bottom of the stairs in his usual three-piece suit, his gold pocket watch resting against his broad chest. He doesn’t say anything as we head out to the garage.
The doors are still closed, but for the first time in weeks, I’m about to be outside.
The car door is open, and I grip it, dizziness sweeping over me. My vision blurs and my knees dip, and a strong hand grips my elbow, keeping me upright.
Slowly lifting my head, I meet Kitrick’s sharp gaze.
He quickly moves his hand away and jerks his chin at the car. “In.”
I do as he says.
Any other day, I’d analyze the interaction, but I’m too distracted by the garage doors opening. The car windows are blacked out, but I can see blue skies through the windscreen, and I can’t help the tears burning my eyes.
Sunlight fills the car as we leave the garage, and I cover my mouth with my hand as I watch the world beyond my window.
I’m outside.
Fluffy clouds are dotted across a clear sky, and we’re surrounded by emerald grass that stretches until it reaches metal fences flanked by men. We stop as the gates open, and we’re waved through.
I rest my hand on my belly.
“We’re outside, bug,” I whisper.
Outside. Closer to freedom.
Even if it’s just for a little while.
But my happiness is tainted. Broken. Shattered. When I realize where I am. Where I’ve been for weeks.
New York.
I never even left.
Covering my face with my hands, I sob into them. I cry openly, no longer caring about the repercussions, because I’d imagined I was worlds away. Hours from my home, from Colt, from my family.
But I’m so close.
And I know he’ll be looking for me.
“Enough of that,” Eli says gently, handing me a tissue.
With a trembling hand, I take it and dry my tears.
This is the extent of the Eddards’ cruelty and arrogance. They didn’t need to hide me. Didn’t need to ship me off to some remote part of the country. They’re powerful enough to keep me right where I was taken, and still, no one has found me.
We reach the city and I’m surrounded by people, cars, buildings, sounds, lights. It’s so bright and alive and beautiful and I stare, open mouthed, not daring to try the door handle I know will be locked.
We pull into a parking garage, and before we get out of the car, Eli takes my hand.
“One word, Robin,” he says. “One word, one scream, one note left, and you will give birth in that box, and your baby will be on the market in days.” I freeze, my body shuddering. “Do you understand?” I nod quickly.
We get out of the car.
I’ve fought my entire life. I’ve been strong because I had to be.
Weakness is a bullet, right?
I’m Denver Robin Harland. My mother was a Gallagher, my father a DeLuca, and I was brought into this criminal life by a Luxe. I married a Harland. I lived with the McEwans. Strength is all I am. It’s what I surround myself with. It’s in my blood.
But when I step out of the car, I’m not Denver. Not Deluxe. Not a wife or a daughter.
I’m a mother who can’t risk her child.
So, I’m quiet. Compliant. I smile, I let Eli hold my hand, and I don’t whisper for help. I don’t tell the doctor I’m being held against my will. I don’t leave a note when I spot a pen at the receptionist’s desk.
I let myself cry when I see my baby on the screen.
“You’re just shy of ten weeks,” Dr. Shannon says, smiling warmly. “They’re looking good.”
She gives me vitamins. Strict instructions to eat. I tell her it’s the nausea that’s kept my weight low. She believes me, or maybe she’s being paid not to care.
Eli has his arm around my shoulders as we head back to the car. He kisses my temple like it’s our shared moment, and not like he threatened my child not long ago.
I get into the car.
And I stare out the window again.
The sonogram is in my hand, and I smile at it, running my thumb over the small shape of my baby. Mine and Colt’s baby.
“He’ll love you,” I whisper. “And we’ll get back to him.”
Eli is on the phone, too distracted to hear. I lift my gaze to the window when we stop at a traffic light.
My heart and breathing grind to a halt.
On the other side of the glass, outside an ice cream shop, is Colt.
My mouth opens and my throat thickens, and I stare and stare and stare. Holly is by him, eating an ice cream, and Wesson is eating one, too.
Tears burn my eyes, and I reach for the door handle, tugging on it, but of course, it’s locked.
“I’d kill her before you were able to say his name,” Eli says, and I look at Holly. She’s talking excitedly, her ice cream bright blue, her tongue blue, too. I grip the door and watch them, Colt smiling at whatever Holly is saying, but it’s a frozen expression. Practiced happiness.
My lip trembles as tears fall.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “Look at me, Colt. I’m here.”
My breath catches.
And his eyes meet mine.
He can’t see me through the glass, but I take in everything about him. He’s a little thinner, and he has dark circles under his eyes. He’s tired. He’s broken.
But he’s here.
And he’ll always look for me.
I press my palm to the window.
The light turns green.
And we drive away.