Chapter 12
Penny
Penny was drowning in darkness.
She didn’t know how long it had been since Joseph locked her in here. Was it morning by now? Her stomach was rumbling, so surely it was morning. Elaine should have been back from her night shift by now.
Please, she begged silently. Let it be morning.
It was definitely long enough for the brick staircase to have pulled all the warmth from her body as she lay on it, her fists sore from hammering on the door. She sniffled, a little whimper escaping.
“Elaine!” she screamed hoarsely, her throat almost tearing. “Dad!” He was in prison again, but she called for him anyway.
And then, below her breath, “Mum.” She sobbed almost silently, knowing Mum would never be there for her again.
It had been stupid to do her homework on the dining room table—right next to the cellar door. It was only that Mrs MacDonald wanted them to draw a diagram of a volcano on A3 paper. It was the only place in the house with enough space.
She’d just started colouring in her magma when Joseph appeared in the doorway, with that ugly smile on his face. The one that always came before the cruelty.
Penny hated him. She’d fought back, but he was four years older than her, and she never stood a chance.
Her bottom lip wobbled as tears stung her eyes.
She closed them, not wanting to see the darkness around her.
With her eyes closed, she could try and pretend she wasn’t here—she wasn’t curled up into a ball on the cellar staircase.
She could pretend she was cuddled up with Mum in bed like she used to be, back before she had a stepbrother that liked to lock her in the cellar and leave her there.
And then, like she’d wished them into existence, she felt arms around her.
They weren’t Mum’s arms. They were stronger, longer, safer.
A blissful scent surrounded Penny as she lingered there, at the edge of consciousness. There was something comforting about it, its crisp warmth luring her closer. Warmth and something…masculine, perhaps?
Wherever she was, she never wanted to leave.
Her eyes opened, the cellar dissolving into nothing, but they went wider still when she realised where she was.
Penny lay on her side, cradled in between Rhys’s arms, her head resting on his bicep like it belonged there. It was then that the memories of last night hit her, and embarrassment was close behind.
She’d had a panic attack in front of him. A full-strength, hyperventilating, ugly crying panic attack.
Well, there went her dignity. She was never going to be able to look him in the eye again.
Rhys shifted slightly, his chest rising and falling in a steady, unhurried rhythm. His muscular arms remained steadfast around her, his exhales tickling the top of her hea—
Penny froze. Her legs were bent, tucked underneath her in the foetal position, but she’d just realised something hard rested against her knee. Something hard belonging to Rhys.
She started to straighten her legs, wanting to distance herself from it.
But try as she might, she felt Rhys stir above her.
His breathing quickened, leaving its leisurely pace behind.
He leant backwards, his face coming into view.
“Morning,” he croaked, rolling to lie on his back, apparently unaware his cock and her knee had been making each other’s acquaintance.
“Morning,” Penny clipped out. She turned away from him, rising into a sitting position on the side of the bed. Her lips tightened as they twisted into a sneer, disgusted at her own loss of control.
She flinched as Rhys’s hand touched her shoulder. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“I’m fine. Can we not?”
His touch disappeared, and Penny was grateful for it. She left the bed and headed towards the bathroom, snatching up her new bag of clothes on the way. She didn’t mean to slam the door, but it slammed nonetheless.
She just managed to lock the door before the first sob shook her shoulders.
Stepping into the shower—and ensuring the glass walls were opaque before she did so—Penny muffled her cries in the rushing water, not wanting to embarrass herself any more than she already had.
She’d always prided herself on her independence, even as a girl, so how had she let this happen?
She’d never shed a tear in front of another person, let alone a full-blown panic attack. And, god, the things she’d said to him.
She didn’t know how long she stood in the shower, silently sobbing out her anger and fear and humiliation. She was angry at Rhys for witnessing it, but she was fucking furious at herself for succumbing to her fears.
Pathetic, she told herself. Weak.
When her tears ran out, Penny felt it was safe to get out of the shower, dry her hair, and dress. Her cheekbones were raw after the onslaught of emotion, but there was little she could do to fix that.
Penny’s steps were cautious as she exited the bathroom. The curtains had been opened, allowing the butter-yellow sunshine to stream through the opened doors, landing on the circular teak dining table laden with platters of food covered in steel domes.
Rhys sat at the table; his plate heaped high with food. He waved her over, halfway through a mouthful. “Come have some breakfast,” he managed eventually. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got…well, everything.”
She sat, peeking under the closest dishes as her stomach sparked to life at the irresistible scents around her. Smoked salmon, bacon, sausages, croissants, sourdough toast. How had she not realised how hungry she was? A sudden ravenousness took hold, and she began to devour everything within reach.
Rhys let her eat in blessed silence, but eventually he cleared his throat. “So,” he began.
Penny winced, closing her eyes and expecting the worst. She’d been hoping they could sweep last night under the rug and never acknowledge its existence.
“I have good news and bad news.”
She swallowed a mouthful of croissant. “What’s the good news?”
“I lied, there’s no good news.” Rhys clapped his hands together. “The bad news is that someone attempted to break into the hotel last night.”
A jolt travelled through her. “What?”
“It’s fine. Security apparently prevented them from gaining access.
The police were called, but by then, whoever it was, was long gone.
” Rhys blew out a long exhale, steepling his fingers together.
“But Océane comped us the room as an apology for any inconvenience, so I suppose that’s the good news. ”
Penny glanced out onto the balcony, towards the thin slice of land she could see before it gave way to the sea. The panicked pounding of her heartbeat filled her ears. “Do you think it had anything to do with us?”
“Without a doubt,” Rhys answered, far too casually. “They’re obviously tracking us somehow. But,” he lifted a finger, “I have now had my infusion. For the first time in days, I have a clear head and fully functioning brain.”
“Congratulations?”
“Thank you, that means a lot.” He gave her a smile that was somewhere between sarcastic and affectionate. “But I’m not so up my own arse that I can’t admit when I’m out of my depth. I don’t know where to go from here, so I’ve contacted someone who will.”
That was a relief, because she didn’t know where to go from here either. “Who?”
“My brother-in-law. Lovely guy. He lives in California, so with the time difference, it might be a while until he answers, but he’ll know what to do—and exactly who we’re dealing with.” Seeing Penny’s confused expression, he added, “He’s a contract killer.”
She blinked. The words had left him as easily as he’s an accountant. “You’re joking, right?” Because the words lovely guy and contract killer did not belong in the same world.
“No, not at all. He was my cousin’s cellmate when we were all in prison together.”
Her nose scrunched up like a bad smell had hovered beneath it. “How the hell do you know you can trust someone like that?” She understood Rhys trusting his cousin; they were family, despite their criminal past. “A murderer?”
“For fuck’s sake, Penny.” The cut of Rhys’s jaw hardened as his eyes rolled. Exhaling, he stood, almost imperceptibly shaking his head as he walked out onto the balcony.
“Rhys.” Her voice was soft as she followed, standing next to him to try to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry, I—”
“A murderer, just like I am, right? Like it’s the only thing I’ve ever done in my fucking life.
” He cut her off, walking her backwards until her spine hit the railing as it rounded a corner.
“Could you trust me when you jumped into my car in Canary Wharf? Or when I saved you in the shepherd’s hut?
” There was nothing but a whisper separating them.
He took hold of her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
“Or how about last night, when I held you all night long, Pen? Did you feel safe in the arms of a murderer?”
There was a flicker of embarrassment inside her, but it was quickly extinguished by the surging of her blood through her veins.
His body was against hers, just like it had been last night.
Her body’s reaction, though, couldn’t have been more different.
It lit up in response, sending a hot rush of sensation between her legs.
Daringly, Penny placed her hand on his torso, feeling the rigid, masculine sweep of his muscles beneath his shirt. She let her palm climb upwards, past his chest, over his hard shoulder, and down his arm—until she reached the hand with which he grasped her chin.
Instead of pulling it away completely, she guided it down—until she wrapped his hand around her neck. This is how much I trust you, she wanted to say. With my life.
His nostrils flared, his eyes sparking to life.
She sucked in a breath at the unexpected feeling of her core clenching in response, sending pulses of need through her.
“Ever since I was a child,” she began, trying not to focus on the sensations rattling through her, “there has been no one in my life that I can trust. No one. You have a family, people you love, people you can depend on. You can’t imagine what it’s like.
I’ve been alone. I mistrust everyone. It’s not personal, it’s not a reflection on you or your family.
I trust you, and I trust your judgement, but right now I’m fucking terrified.
I know full well that without you, I’d be dead, so yes, Rhys.
You are the only person in the world that I trust—whether that’s in Canary Wharf, the shepherd’s hut, or… or in your arms.”
A shudder passed through her as his thumb shifted to touch her bottom lip. “Will you tell me what happened last night?”
With a deep breath, she nodded. “I, um…”
A rhythmic buzzing sounded from within the room, stealing their attention. “That’s my phone,” Roman said apologetically, taking her hand and dragging her with him towards the dining table they’d abandoned. “It’s Roman, my brother-in-law.”
The contract killer, right. Penny just hoped he was as trustworthy as Rhys said he was.