Chapter Fifteen - Elise
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Elise
Morning couldn’t come soon enough. I breathe a sigh of relief when sunlight streams into my room, and I can finally escape my never-ending nightmares.
I stretch and stand from the bed, falling back onto the soft mattress when yesterday’s events replay in my mind.
Throwing up, passing out, having a panic attack, kissing Joshua…
His words from last night still ring in my head.
What if I’ve changed how I feel about you?
I have no idea what he meant by that, and frankly, I’m not sure I want to.
Keeping with the current schedule, I’ll be going to the garden today, so I pick out a pair of denim shorts and a white tank top, letting my hair fall freely over my shoulders. My natural dark roots are taking over, blending messily with the blonde.
The knock at the door pulls me from the mirror, and I call them in.
A tall, dark-haired man enters with my breakfast tray. He places it on the table and turns to leave. “I’ll be back to get the plate.”
I nod and watch him leave the room as quickly as he came in.
That was strange.
Joshua and Ryder are the only ones who have ever talked to me, but maybe after what happened in the garden last night, Joshua told his soldiers to ease up on me.
I push away from the table once I’m done eating, shifting the plates on the tray as I do. Before I can turn toward the dresser, I notice a white paper partially peeking out from beneath one of the plates.
For a moment, all I can do is stare at it.
When I can finally bring myself to move, I push the plate out of the way and inspect the square envelope. There’s no writing on the outside, no way to be certain it’s intended for me, but somehow, I know it is. The real mystery is who would try to give me a note, and why would they need to hide it?
There’s only one way to find out.
I take the envelope with shaky hands and open it.
Elise,
I’m coming for you. Stay safe and stay quiet.
-Dad
My dad got a message to me.
A simple message, sure, but the implications change everything. First, my father knows where I am. Second, he’s planning to save me. Third, and most importantly, he has a man on the inside.
A fresh wave of emotion brings on tears, but for the first time since I came here, they’re tears of joy.
I tuck the note back in the envelope and shove it inside my pillowcase for safekeeping before moving to sit by the window.
I think back to how the dark-haired man talked to me today. Maybe that was a sign. I replay the words in my head.
I’ll be back to get the plate.
Not tray, plate.
It has to be him.
So, what does this mean for my escape plan?
I picture the window in the bathroom and all the ways I imagined stalling Ryder to give myself the chance to use it. But now that I know my dad is working to free me, is trying to escape still a smart option?
If I try to escape, it might interfere with Dad’s plan, but if I wait, Joshua might find a way to get what he wants without giving me back, and it’ll be too late.
Heavy dread settles in the pit of my stomach as a chilling thought creeps into my mind.
What if that note wasn’t from Dad at all?
It could be Joshua tricking me into thinking my father is coming for me, so I won’t try to escape on my own. That would change everything. It would mean my dad doesn’t know where I am, there is no inside man, and no one is coming to save me.
But what if it is real?
My heart is all but screaming at me to believe it was my dad, but my mind isn’t so sure.
I rub my temples to soothe the headache forming there. The possibilities are endless, and there is no way to be sure I’m going to make it out of this alive.
It’s almost noon when there’s a knock at the door, and I realize I’ve done nothing all morning but stare out into the garden, letting my mind race with “what ifs.”
My heart leaps when the door opens, eager to talk to the dark-haired man, but it’s Joshua who enters.
He’s dressed in dark jeans and a navy tee that does nothing to conceal his hard muscles, and I flush, remembering how my hands roamed those muscles last night.
“Expecting someone else?” He tilts his head, and I want to kick myself for not composing my expression fast enough.
I narrow my eyes in what I hope resembles a playful look. “I wish I was.”
He rolls his eyes. “How did you sleep last night?”
I inwardly groan but outwardly answer. “Not well.”
The tension in the room is palpable, charged with the intensity from last night. I still haven’t quite figured out how I feel about what happened. Honestly, I’m not sure that I even understand what happened.
“Would you like to join me for lunch in the garden?” he asks, and I recognize that he’s not telling me what to do.
He’s giving me a choice.
“I’d like that,” I answer, slipping my shoes onto my feet.
I pick up the items I set aside for my time in the garden today, a small canvas, sketchbook, pencils, an easel, paints, and brushes.
Seeing my struggle, Joshua steps in.
“Let me,” he says, taking everything but the sketchbook easily into his hands.
I mumble my thanks and walk the familiar path to the garden. Joshua silently follows, his eyes on me like a hawk, and I don’t think it’s because he’s worried about me trying to run.
I feel as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders the second I step into the sunshine.
Joshua sets my art supplies on a nearby bench. “Are you ready to eat now?”
I put my sketchbook down and turn to face him. I’d forgotten how striking his eyes can be in the light, captivating me where I stand. Even from this far, I notice the flecks of gold that only seem to be visible in the sun.
“Elise?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Uh—yeah. I’m ready to eat.”
I think I hear Joshua chuckle, but it’s faint and gone before I can be sure.
The table is once again crowded with a buffet that the two of us could never finish alone, and I take a seat as I fill my plate and sip from the mimosa in front of me.
Joshua sits opposite me, and I’m glad that the sounds of nature can fill our awkward silence. It’s nothing like the easy, content silence with Ryder when we eat during my lunch breaks.
It doesn’t help that I can’t get last night’s events out of my head. It’s difficult to make small talk with so many things unspoken.
Picking at my food, I sneak looks at Joshua, unsure if he’s going to say something about last night. Should I? Do I even want to talk about it?
“Say it.”
“Huh?”
“You look like you have something to say. So, say it.”
I take another sip of my drink, untangling my jumbled thoughts. “I was just wondering… I mean.” I clear my throat. “Last night…”
“Last night, we were exhausted. I think we can both agree we weren’t quite ourselves. Maybe it’s best if we forget what happened.”
I’m filled with relief and nod enthusiastically. “I think that’s for the best.”
There’s no change in Joshua’s expression, and I realize his guard is up more than normal today, not that I blame him. Last night, he showed me a side of himself that I never knew existed. It’s understandable that he’d regret his vulnerability and put up a wall.
I’m trying to build my walls up, too.
“Are you enjoying your time in the kitchen?” he asks, and I’m grateful for the change in topic.
“It’s nice to get out of my room,” I say with a small smile. “It makes me feel a little more normal.”
“I haven’t heard any complaints from Tripp, so that’s a good sign.” His words are light—playful even—but my stomach drops at the mention of his name.
If I were him, I would’ve raped the brat the second she got here. That ought to put her in her place.
I compose my expression, but of course, it’s too late.
“What was that?” he asks, playfulness long gone.
I look down.
“Elise,” he says, and there’s no mistaking the warning in his tone.
“It’s nothing, just stuff that he said last night.”
He waits for me to elaborate.
I don’t.
“Damn it, Elise. I’m so tired of having to pull answers out of you. When I ask a question, you answer it, or have you forgotten how things work here?”
I sit up straight, a surge of white-hot rage running through my veins.
“Tripp said that if he were you, he would’ve raped me by now to put me in my place.”
Joshua’s face remains impassive.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, “you can laugh. All the other guys thought it was hilarious. So yeah, working in the kitchen is great aside from the fact that every man there would gladly take me against my will.”
Joshua says nothing, and I scoff, standing to leave. I’m about to pass by when he stands, and we’re flush against each other.
He looks down, and something passes between our gazes. His features remain hard, but the anger seems to leave him when he sees what’s beneath the fury in my eyes.
Fear.
He lifts a hand, gently placing it on the side of my face. “No one else is going to touch you.”
I don’t miss his careful wording, but it’s not a battle worth fighting.
I look at him through full lashes, nodding because what is there to say? Thanks for not letting people rape me?
The bar for gratitude is low.
He absentmindedly strokes my cheek, pulling me into a daze that draws my eyes to his full lips. They moved so effortlessly against mine last night, and I want to feel them again.
His hand lingers for half a second too long. My breath hitches. Then, just as quickly as he touched me, he pulls away.
“Back to our lunch?” His voice is unreadable.
I nod, breathless from yet another close encounter with him. I really ought to have better control over myself.
We take our seats, and I pick at my food, not nearly as hungry as I’d been a few moments ago.
“Where did you go the last few days?”
He studies me with his signature analytic gaze before saying, “I was with your father.”
“Wait, really?” I picture the note hiding in my pillowcase right now. If Joshua was with my father yesterday, that would’ve given someone a chance to get the note from him here to me.
He nods, expression guarded.
I try to imagine Joshua and my father in the same room. That, alone, sounds like a horrible combination. Throw a hostage and desired territory in the mix, and I’m glad I wasn’t anywhere near that interaction. I’m surprised Joshua even walked away alive.
“How is he?”
Joshua suppresses a cocky grin. “Not very happy with me.”
I don’t mean to, but I laugh at that.
“I really miss him,” I mutter, more to myself than to Joshua.
“Would you like to call him?”