Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Kieran
F ifteen minutes pass.
Thirty.
The shower turned off a long time ago but still no sign of Ada. I could presume that she’s stubbornly attempting to keep from eating anything in front of me. Which, while I understand the reasoning behind it, is just not something that she’s going to be able to get away with.
But, no, that’s not what’s happening. With my job, I have to be alert at all times and with that comes fantastic hearing. I can hear the security pads beeping up and down the hallway as well as various handles moving.
She’s likely attempting to unbolt the bars from the windows with her bare hands. I commend her efforts, but all of her attempts at escaping are going to prove futile. There’s absolutely no way to get out of here without the right codes and keys.
I just have to wait her out. It’s only natural for her to attempt to escape. When she realizes that I’m her only hope of ever breathing free air again, she’ll find her way to the kitchen. This hideout is designed to keep even the most determined prisoner contained.
Sure enough, the beeps give way to crashing sounds of things breaking or being thrown against surfaces. Then the grunts of frustration are replaced by indignant screams. I can’t help but smirk at the growing anger that she must be feeling. I like that she’s feisty, there’s no denying that.
I take the pan off of the stove and place it on an empty burner and wipe my hands off on a dish towel before heading to the living room where she’s yanking on the door with everything that she has.
She rages loudly and shoves her shoulder into the door, the shirt of mine that she’s somehow turned into a dress riding up indecently as she yelps in pain and falls back onto the floor, rubbing her shoulder. Charging the door was a terrible idea. But I gotta give it to her, she’s got moxie.
Shaking my head, I hold out a helping hand to her without saying a word. She’s far too stubborn to accept the help, but I don’t mind taking the few extra moments of hesitation to admire her bare legs in my shirt. She knocks my hand away with the back of her own and pushes herself to stand. Defiance is etched into her every feature as she rounds on me, but my smirk only grows into a smile.
“Channeling your inner bull didn’t work out too well for you, did it?”
She looks like she’s about two seconds away from stomping her foot at me.
“By all means,” I continue, gesturing to the rest of the house. “Feel free to keep trying, but it’s not going to get you anywhere. You think I planned this out for this long only to leave a window unlocked?”
Rage shudders through her, and she turns sharply on her heel before stomping her lithe frame all of the way into the kitchen.
She probably thinks that I don’t hear the groan of satisfaction when she smells the food that I’ve been making, but I hear it. I won’t deny how fucking pleased that it makes me. Nothing too fancy, steak and eggs but it seems to be something universally liked.
I silently make her plate while she pretends not to be salivating.
“It’s going to make things a hell of a lot easier if you stop pretending to be so mad about all of this. You would think a girl would love being attended to.” I chuckle and cut her steak up for her before pushing it toward her with a small helping of eggs. I push her fork forward, and to her credit she doesn’t immediately attempt to turn it into some sort of weapon to be used against me. There might be hope for this yet.
I dig into my own portion slowly, watching absently as she pushes the food around the plate.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Not a single bite has been taken.
“Is that how you used to pass this off? Pushing food around until enough time has passed and then you can excuse yourself?” I ask, but my irritation with her antics bleeds into my tone despite my best efforts to stop it.
“It’s easier when there’s conversation, but I don’t really want to talk to you.” Ada says flatly.
“It’s rude to not even try a meal that’s made for you.”
I made sure that it was protein to give her energy without any extra fats, to try to make things easier for her.
“Do you not like it? We have a mountain of takeout to suit all taste buds.”
Ada sits there silently. She puts her fork down and drops her hands into her lap. Her gaze is flat and hollow as she stares at me.
I mirror her posture, finishing my bite and leaning forward over the kitchen island.
“What’s the issue, Ada?” I say, swallowing as much of my anger as possible. She can’t starve herself. I will force feed her if I have to. I just would rather her do this willingly.
Ada’s mouth opens, her nose crinkling in her anger as she gets ready to spit more vitriol at me, and then stops. It’s like she catches herself, and then her shoulders slump as the words fail to leave her. She snaps her mouth shut so hard I hear her teeth click. She sharply turns away from me, her chin dimpling and I swear that I almost see tears welling in her eyes.
Shame on me for poking at an open wound.
“Who did this to you, Ada?”
She glances at me out of the corner of her eye, and something in my chest tightens.
“ I did this to me.” She says softly, wiping away a tear.
“Not out of nowhere, you didn’t.”
“I should have been stronger… maybe if I had been, then I wouldn’t have felt the way I did. I shouldn’t let people get to me. It’s really… I have nobody to blame but myself.” Ada says.
I hate that she’s talking about herself like this. “What happened?”
“Just stupid kids.” For a long moment, Ada doesn’t add anything else. She just sits there, plucking at the skin around her nail beds. An anxious habit? I wonder just how deep those self-sabotage tendencies run. I shouldn’t care, but I can’t stop either.
I’m about to tell her that she doesn’t have to go on if she’s not ready, when she inhales a deep breath, closes her eyes and starts talking.
“I knew when I wanted to become a model that there was going to be pressure to look a certain way and that I was going to have to be super careful about what I ate. I was scouted for the first time in high school. I was so excited that I didn’t even realize that I ate twice what the other girls ate until I heard them laughing behind my back. I knew that if I wanted to be accepted by them, then I was going to have to find a way to make them like me. The modeling industry is all about who you know, and having money helps open doors, but I didn’t want to get in just because my family has strings. I wanted to make it on my own.” She smiles softly at that, and I know that it’s a point of pride for her to have been self-made.
Her being stubborn is something that I have already learned about her.
“I had to find a way to control my growth, and to stay small like all of my so-called friends. I didn’t even realize that it was making me ill until much, much later. I just felt so happy to be in control of my life. So utterly and completely in control that I never ate anything.”
Ada waves her hand, like it isn’t as big of a deal as it actually is. I have to bite my tongue to keep my rage from coming out. Nobody should have to go through being bullied like that, certainly not an impressionable kid like she so clearly was.
“When my father died, things got worse. My father was everything to me. I know that likely makes me sound like a spoiled princess or something, and maybe I was one, but I loved my father. My family means everything to me. I felt like my life was spiraling out of control and the only one that I could control was me, and so it just… got worse.”
Ada’s eyes close and she inhales slowly, like talking about this is somehow cathartic. I have no idea how many people she’s told or if this is the first time. Either way, I want to give her the space she needs to talk.
“Sadly, it worked. A little too well. With Maeve at my side, my confidence only grew. I controlled myself more and because of it, I seemed to be getting everything that I ever wished for. But it wasn’t as glamorous as I thought. I was sample size, but that still wasn’t good enough. Then, four years ago, the pressure became too much and my anorexia evolved.”
That foreign something in my gut twists further. I never expected for the depth of her struggles to be so deep. From all of the research that I ever did on her, I never would have thought that her pain ran so deeply. I finally drag my gaze away from her when she stops speaking. I lower my head between my outstretched arms and inhale sharply.
Ada was only supposed to be a pawn.
She was just supposed to be a means to an end, and yet I feel this overwhelming need to hunt down everybody in her life that has ever hurt her, and make them eat their own teeth.
Heavy silence fills the space for a long moment. Unbidden, images push into my mind of the future that I could help Ada to create once this is all over. Provided that when I do what I have to do, she doesn’t hate me forever. I envision a future with her glowing and healthy where she won’t ever have to deal with the pressures of the fashion industry anymore.
I have my work cut out for me. I raise my head back up and exhale slowly, pushing her plate toward her just a touch.
“Well, you won’t have to worry about that ever again.”