Chapter Eight
Romy
“D rop the weapon,” Gareth says, lips curling up into a wide grin that reveals all his shiny, perfect teeth.
He doesn’t say it in a menacing way.
It’s almost as if he’s joking with me.
Like this is some game we play all the time.
I spit on his face. I bet he wasn’t expecting that.
His brows lift in shock and then he lets go of my arm to wipe his cheek on his sleeve. “Your loyalty to him is noted.”
Frowning, I shove my useless spoon back into my pocket and glower at him. “Who? Why am I here? Where’s Megan?”
Gareth’s amusement is completely gone now. Something akin to pity mars his stupidly handsome features. “That bump to the head really did a number on you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. My head is throbbing fiercely, but it’s not from a bump. It’s from being drugged, kidnapped, drugged, starved, drugged.
“I want to leave,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest and taking a step back. Being so close to the man who towers over me by several inches and outweighs me by at least a hundred and fifty pounds is intimidating. “Now.”
He smirks at the last bit. “So sassy. You always do get kind of mean when hangry.”
Is he insane?
I don’t know this man and he certainly doesn’t know me.
Yet he’s interacting with me like we have a friendly past.
If my mouth weren’t so dry, I’d spit on him again.
“Come on,” he says after a beat. “Let’s get some breakfast in you. You missed lunch and dinner yesterday. Doc says it’s a nasty concussion.”
He waits as though to watch my reaction. I study his navy-colored eyes, searching for answers that lurk inside his head. His half smirk that would probably melt the panties off the entire female freshman class at USC only serves to shine light on his deception.
This is an act.
A lie.
Some stupid game to make me feel crazy.
“I’d like to see the doctor again,” I tell him curtly. “Before breakfast if possible.”
“He’ll be in later,” he assures me, offering his hand for me to take. “You need to eat first anyway.”
I scowl at his large hand that could probably knock me right through the drywall if I got out of line. There’s no way in hell I’ll willingly touch this man.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Like I said. Loyal.”
I’m not sure who he thinks I’m being loyal to, and I refuse to ask. It’s apparent by the twinkling in his eyes he wants me to.
They’re used to being masters of the games they play.
They’ve never played with me, though.
His sigh is somewhat playful, but I don’t let my guard down. I glance over my shoulder and quickly count eight doors on each side of the hallway, plus the one at the end that stands open. The one Gareth came out of was the ninth one on the right. It doesn’t help to orient myself, but it’s something.
He starts walking, putting his back to me. I take a moment to peek into the room he exited from. It appears to be a lounge or something with leather chairs and wood-paneled walls. The cigar smoke scent comes off strong from that room. Since I don’t see any windows to escape out of, I begin following him. I count eleven more doors on each side before we come to the end.
The hallway turns to the right.
He disappears around the corner, and I’m left staring at the door on the far end opposite mine. So many doors. I wonder if they’re all locked. What’s on the other side of them? Is Megan in one of them?
I try the knob, but it’s locked. Of course it is. With a small groan, I turn down the hallway Gareth went down. We pass ten more doors on each side before coming to a small opening. A thrill of hope rushes through me as I see a bank of elevators.
He mashes the button to call the elevator.
I survey the lobby area, looking for other means of escape. No stairwell. Just two sets of elevator doors with a metal trashcan against the wall dividing them. There isn’t any signage to indicate where exactly I’m at. One thing’s for sure, I’m in a hotel. I’ve never seen a house or any apartment building that looks like this before.
Ding.
The elevator on the left opens and Gareth steps inside, assuming I’ll follow him. I’m tempted to take off running, but something tells me this linebacker of a man will easily tackle me.
Lifting my chin, I follow him into the elevator. Despite feeling like I’m in an old hotel, everything has been modernized. It even smells of fresh paint. Where you’d expect to see tarnished brass, it’s nice, shiny steel.
The buttons on the right side of the door are on a computerized iPad type of device. Definitely new. He quickly enters a code and then hits the number two. The doors close and then I can feel us descending.
Though the panel is hidden from view now because Gareth’s body is covering it, I count the rhythmic dings.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.
Another ding and the doors open.
If we’re on floor two now, it’s possible I was on the eighth floor. How many floors are there? Jumping from the eighth floor would mean death, though, so in a way I’m glad I didn’t have a window when I was frantically searching. I may have just jumped out in my effort to seek freedom.
Gareth steps out and we’re no longer on a floor with rooms. We’re in an atrium of sorts. The scent of fried meats and cinnamon instantly fills my nostrils, making me nearly drool. As much as I want to make a break for it, eating and learning more about where I am would be wise. Because, at the end of the day, if I escape, that doesn’t help me find Megan here.
I have to be smart.
We walk beside a railing that allows for viewing on the floor below. I’m momentarily stunned to see what appears to be an indoor forest. All sorts of trees, vines, bushes, and flowers decorate the space. The atrium area isn’t enclosed above it but instead allows light in from massive windows at the very top of the hotel. I try to count the floors, but it’s too difficult to do and keep up with Gareth.
“You’ll be pleased that he was able to peel himself away from work to join us for breakfast,” Gareth says under his breath. “I know how much his busy schedule irritates you.”
I grit my teeth, refusing to be fooled by this man. Instead, I stay on his heels, looking for the mysterious man he alludes to. The area opens up into a space filled with fancily decorated bistro tables. Another scent—one I can’t place—overpowers the food smell. A flower of some sort maybe?
At the table, I discover Orion, Theo, and Caius. Orion sits at one end of the rectangular table and Caius sits at the other. Theo sits to Orion’s right.
“Concussion is still causing confusion,” Gareth says to the group as we arrive. “Please be patient with her.”
All of their eyes bore into me. I want to flip them off but manage to keep control of myself. Gareth pulls out a chair beside Caius and motions for me to sit. Caius gives a small nod as if to approve of the notion.
“Why am I here?” I demand as I take my seat. I turn my attention to Theo. “Why did you kidnap me?”
Theo’s lips twitch like he’s fighting a grin. Then he stuffs half a jelly-covered biscuit in his mouth, choosing to ignore my question.
“There’s some delusion about what happened,” Gareth continues. “You’ll see.”
But I’m not delusional.
No amount of gaslighting will make me believe them.
“I need my medicine,” I grit out, trying to keep my voice even and calm. “I’ll go through withdrawals without it.”
I remember when I’d been prescribed fluoxetine, the doctor gave it to me with a warning. Do not abruptly quit taking it. It’s the kind of medicine you must wean your body off of. You could become suicidal or have psychological delusions if you come off it too quickly.
Am I having those delusions?
Is that what the ever-changing room was or were these twisted men moving me around?
“That doesn’t happen with ibuprofen,” Caius says in a flat, bored tone. He picks up his coffee mug and sips it, eyes closing slightly as if truly appreciating the hot liquid. Then he sets it back down, the momentary glimpse of pleasure gone. “Get ahold of yourself, Romy. Your efforts to seek my attention are growing tiresome.”
I stare at him open-mouthed, unable to form any words of response. I’m distracted when a woman in a white button-down shirt and black slacks comes rushing in to bring me and Gareth each a plate of food.
“Help,” I whisper as she sets mine down in front of me.
She smiles warmly at me and then scurries away as though I never said anything.
“She doesn’t speak English,” Theo says, chuckling. “It’s cute you don’t remember.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’m not falling for their nonsense. Theo lured me into a bar, drugged me, stuffed me in his car, and then locked me in a hole in the floor.
Don’t ever forget, Romy.
You’re here because they took Megan first.
My eyes pop back open as the woman returns to bring coffee for Gareth and some sort of fancy-looking latte for me. I get a whiff of pumpkin and frown at the drink. Orion watches me as though I’m a lightning bug caught in a glass jar—something to be studied until I die. A shiver trembles its way through me.
I pick up the latte and take a small sip. It’s pumpkin pie perfection. I’m shocked to discover it tastes nearly identical to the frappe I always get at school.
“I’ll be missed,” I tell them. “You can’t do this and get away with it.”
None of the men appear to be moved by my words. Theo, however, scrunches his eyebrows together and looks down at his plate. I get a sense he feels guilty. It’d be stupid to think he feels guilty for taking me. However, I get the sense he regrets causing this problem for his family.
“You’ll need to tell the doctor about the memory loss too,” Gareth says to Caius. “I hope it’s not permanent.”
“I remember everything clearly,” I snap, shooting Gareth a withering glare. “I’m not falling for this game you’re all playing.”
No reaction. No response. Nothing.
Their poker faces are impressive.
“You can only get away with this for so long,” I say hotly. “My dad will find me.” He always does. “And then you’ll pay for what you did.”
Orion’s neutral expression cracks, anger flickering to the surface. “Caius…”
Caius grunts in response, then taps his fork against my plate. “Eat.”
With nostrils flaring, I jerk my head to glower at him. His dark eyes bore into me. I don’t like the way he looks at me—as though I’m a simple puzzle he must solve before leveling up to a more difficult stage of whatever fucked-up game he’s playing. I should spit on him too. But, unlike Gareth, I’m actually afraid of what Caius would do. He keeps a careful check on his emotions, so he’s hard to read.
“Just take me to Megan,” I plead, trying to find a shred of humanity in Caius’s emotionless stare. “I need to see her.”
Maybe if we’re together, we can plan our escape easier.
“I can just deal with her,” Theo offers, resignation in his tone. “I started this. Let me finish.”
I whip my head to look at Theo. For a moment, he looks like an unsure little boy, afraid of his father’s punishment. If I were his dad, I’d take great joy in whipping him.
“What do you mean deal ?” I demand, voice turning shrill.
“That’s enough,” Caius rumbles from beside me.
My hair is pulled aside and then the sharp pinch on the side of my neck has me shrieking in surprise. I go to hit at Caius—the deliverer of the surprise attack injection—but he’s already pulling out of my reach.
I rub at my neck, gaping at the empty syringe in his hand. “You…” The world spins around me. “You…”
I feel myself going down, collapsing over the side of my chair, but Gareth catches me before I crash into the floor between us. Their voices are murmured as blackness creeps into my vision.
“I said I’d take care of it,” Caius hisses, his voice reaching me in the encroaching darkness. “Give it time.”
My body feels as though it’s floating. I’m able to grasp the concept that someone is carrying me. Gareth’s voice rumbles through my body. And though I recognize it’s him, I can’t make out the words.
I’m not sure what’s happening anymore. Everything is confusing and feels wrong. My head throbs as I attempt to clutch onto consciousness, but it’s a losing battle.
Just go back to sleep, Romy.
Maybe this will all be a bad dream that you’ll wake up from soon.