Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Ariana
I didn’t remember falling asleep.
The last thing I could recall was the hypnotic flicker of the fire. The deep silence pressing against the windows. The ever-present tension knotting in my stomach. But when my eyes blinked open, that cold fear rushed through me again.
Unfamiliar ceiling. Dim amber light. The low, steady crackle of flames.
For one frantic second, I forgot where I was. Who I was with.
Then I shifted and felt it.
Soft fur beneath my hand.
Cato .
My fingers curled deeper into his thick coat, grounding myself in the present.
I was on the couch, wrapped in a warm duvet, the fire in the hearth still burning strong.
My arm dangled over the edge, my hand resting on Cato’s side where he lay curled up on the rug below.
The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my palm steadied me.
We had a dog once when I was little. A Pointer mix named Ruby who used to sleep beside my bed, her tail thumping softly every time I moved. She snored like a buzz saw and always begged for table scraps, but I loved her with everything I had.
At the mere thought of food, my stomach growled, low and insistent. A new smell drifted through the air, curling toward me like an invitation. Savory. Rich. Nostalgic.
I pushed back the duvet and stood, my legs unsteady at first. The wooden floor was cool against my bare feet, and I padded quietly toward the kitchen, drawn forward despite the unsettled feeling trickling down my spine.
Henry stood with his back to me, stirring a pot of something that looked like soup on the stove. But not the canned kind. There was a chicken carcass on one cutting board, vegetable scraps on another. Carrots, celery, onion, garlic, parsley.
And a knife.
Long. Sharp. Just sitting there like an open invitation.
He may have saved me from the cold. May have wrapped me in warmth and left me to rest beside a fire like I wasn’t his prisoner. But that didn’t erase the fact that he’d drugged me. Taken me. Locked me away in a place where no one would find me.
Nothing would change that.
With cautious motions, I crept forward, every step measured. Silent. Calculating. Then I reached for the knife.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said without turning.
My spine went rigid, my heart skyrocketing into my throat. I paused, trying to get my breathing under control. “Think about what?” I asked, hiding my hand behind my back as if I were a child who got caught stealing candy.
“Using the knife.” He finally glanced over his shoulder, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. A black T-shirt clung to his torso, highlighting those infuriating biceps I’d been trying not to notice.
“You’re a pretty bad kidnapper,” I retorted. “Leaving weapons out in the open. You’d think you’d lock up anything I could use against you.”
“I don’t exactly see you as a threat... Mrs. Kane.”
My jaw clenched at the name, but I masked it quickly. “Why’s that?” I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Because I’m a woman?”
“No,” he said simply. “Because I’m faster than you.”
“But I’m closer.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Oh no?”
He slowly shook his head.
“What makes you think that?”
“Want me to prove it?” His eyes lit up with mischief. “Go ahead. Try.”
“Try what?”
“Try getting the knife.”
“Seriously?” I replied, shocked he’d allow me to do this.
It wasn’t even a competition. I was less than a foot away, while he stood close to five feet away.
Although with the way his gaze raked over me, it felt like he took up the entire space.
“Yes.”
“And you’re going to let me?”
“No. I’m giving you the opportunity. Big difference.”
“And if I succeed?” I asked, holding my head high.
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
He glared at me for several more moments, as if wanting to insist he did know that. Instead, he pushed out a long sigh.
“Fine.” His eyes locked with mine. “If you capture the knife, I’ll let you go.”
“You will?”
“Sure. I’ll even drive you to the nearest town. Although, fair warning. It’s over an hour from here.”
“You do realize the first thing I’ll do is go directly to the police and tell them you abducted me. They’ll arrest you.”
Instead of being nervous about spending the next decade or two of his life in prison, he only looked even more amused.
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Now do we have a deal, Mrs. Kane?” He extended his hand toward mine, a single brow raised.
I looked between his hand and the knife, my mind spinning. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch. At least with Victor.
This was exactly the sort of thing he would do. Promise me the one thing in the world I wanted most, then rip it out from my grasp when it was within reach.
But Henry wasn’t Victor.
Granted, I couldn’t say that with any level of certainty. Still, I felt it in my gut.
And for now, I had to trust my instincts… Just like I should have trusted them all those years ago when Victor Kane walked into my life.
“Okay.” I thrust my hand out. “Deal.”
His grip closed around mine — firm, calloused, warm like sunbaked leather. Not soft and pampered like Victor’s. Not cold.
I stared at our joined hands. At the size difference. At the way mine looked like it belonged to someone else wrapped in his. A warmth filled me, and a part of me wanted to stay in this moment. To relish in the feel of his skin against mine. There was something comforting about it.
A strange notion, considering my circumstances.
Regardless, I couldn’t help but feel there was much more to Henry Fontaine than he’d let on.
Then again, he hadn’t exactly told me much. I knew next to nothing about him, apart from the fact he had a dog, was a Navy SEAL at some point in his life, based on his tattoo, and had a log cabin in the mountains.
Oh, and he kidnapped me.
When he released my hand, a chill overtook me from the lack of contact, but I quickly shook it off.
I needed to focus.
“On the count of three,” he said, backing away with slow, measured steps.
Why was he making it easier?
“One,” he counted, taking another step back.
I crouched slightly, my weight on the balls of my feet, eyes fixed on the blade.
“Two.”
His voice echoed in the kitchen, the seconds seeming to stretch.
He parted his lips, about to say three, but I didn’t wait.
I lunged.
I was so close, I could almost taste my victory.
Just as my fingers brushed the handle, an arm wrapped around my biceps, locking me in place. My back hit his chest with surprising force and, in a single breath, everything shattered.
I wasn’t in Henry’s kitchen anymore.
I was back in that dark bedroom.
Victor’s weight pressing me down. His fingers digging into my throat. His voice, cruel and vicious, cutting through the silence.
My breath hitched, caught, stuttered. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream.
Panic surged like fire in my lungs, burning through every cell, every nerve ending. My vision blurred, blinding me to my surroundings. To the danger threatening me.
I clawed at the phantom hands I felt around my throat, but there was nothing there. Just the echo of a memory and the pounding of my heart threatening to break through my chest.
Then a voice reached through the haze.
Not cold. Not cruel.
Soft. Grounded. Real.
“You’re okay. You’re safe. Just breathe. Deep inhale. Then a slow exhale.”
I vehemently shook my head, wild and frantic as I fought to capture a breath that wouldn’t come. Like I was drowning on air.
A pair of hands grabbed mine.
The same hands from a few seconds ago.
“You can do it. Inhale with me. One, two, three.”
I gasped, ragged and shallow, but it was air.
“Good. Now exhale.”
As my breath left me, my vision cleared a fraction. The kitchen lights came back into focus. The aroma of chicken found its way toward me. Cato whined with worry from inches away.
And Henry continued to hold my hands, grounding me to this world. To him.
I was no longer standing. Instead, I was on the floor, my legs tucked beneath me, back pressed against the cabinets. Henry knelt in front of me, concern etched in every line of his face.
“Again. In through your nose,” he said gently. “Out through your mouth.”
I took another deep breath, held it, then pushed it out. With each one, the panic loosened its grip on me.
“Good. That’s really good.”
I continued drawing in deep breaths, slowly returning to normal.
After several minutes, he asked, “What happened? What set you off?”
“Nothing,” I answered quickly.
He didn’t move. “You sure? Because that’s not a typical response.”
I scrambled for something. Anything. I wasn’t about to tell him everything I’d been suffering for years because of Victor. Despite wanting to believe otherwise mere seconds ago, this man was no better than him. He was keeping me prisoner, too.
I needed to remember that.
“I get claustrophobic,” I said. “That’s all.”
“Ariana,” he started, my name low and careful on his tongue.
“I said I’m fine.” I looked away, masking any hint of weakness. “You win. Congratulations.”
I scrambled to my feet, the motion causing me to feel slightly dizzy, but I steadied myself, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt in nothing but his shirt.
“Do you have some sweatpants or something? Since it looks like I’m stuck here.”
He studied me for a beat longer than was comfortable. I braced myself for more questions, more probing.
But then he nodded. “I’ll get you something.”
I watched him retreat, the concern in his gaze still lingering in my mind.
But that didn’t change anything.
He was still my captor.
I couldn’t afford to make the same mistake I did with Victor.
Not again.
I needed to keep my wits about me.
And find some other way out of here.