Chapter 9 #2
I glare at him. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were a priest.”
“And you had me believing you were a nun. Now we’re even.”
“I’m working toward it. I live like I am one. You clearly don’t.” My eyes drift over him, trying to reconcile the two versions in my mind. The affection that had been slowly growing for him is tainted by this series of discoveries.
“That’s what you’re upset about right now?” He pulls his glasses off and cleans a smudge on the corner of his shirt before he returns them to his skeptical face.
“It’s on the list.”
“Let’s focus on the top priorities. You have a husband who will allegedly kill you for leaving the convent?”
“He’ll kill you. Me? I don’t know, but he’ll certainly make me wish I were dead.” I feel sick if I ruminate on the thought too long.
“Why?”
“Because our agreement was that I live out my life as a nun on the island, and in exchange, he’d leave me alone.”
His eyes flick over me in curiosity. Like he’s seeing me in a new light.
“You don’t like him then?” It’s rhetorical.
“What gave it away?” I meet his sarcasm. If we’re going masks off, we might as well stop pretending altogether.
“And what about your father? Couldn’t he get you out of it?” he asks. I guess that answers one question. Part of me had worried he was working for one of them. But one mystery solved only creates a dozen more in its wake.
“Is that who you’re after?” I frown.
“He’s certainly high on the list.”
“If you think I can help you get to him, I can assure you, you’re absolutely mistaken.”
“Oh, I think he’d be interested to know I’ve got his daughter.”
“Interested, maybe, but not invested. You think a father who cares about his daughter marries her off to a monster?”
He flinches. It’s there and gone in a flash, but I don’t miss it, and I log that information for later.
“I haven’t thought about it at all. Ten minutes ago, I thought you were a chaste little nun. So embarrassed she couldn’t stop having dirty dreams that she confessed it to a stranger.”
“The confessional is supposed to be a sacramental sanctuary.” I’m offended by how callously he brings it up.
“And if I had been a real priest, it might have been.” He lobs my words back at me.
“So what then? You’ll use it against me? Assuming your friend out there isn’t going to kill me? Do you want my father’s money? A say in his politics? He won’t budge. Not for me.” I wish he understood how little I was worth to that man. Maybe then he’d let me go.
“What about being on a private plane makes you think we need money?”
“The fuel bill?” I snark right back at him.
“You have a smart mouth.”
“So we’ve established. Are we done talking in circles yet? I’d really like to get back to the convent. There will still be damage to manage, but it might be doable. We land somewhere else…” I shake my head. “Hopeless.”
“We’re not changing plans.”
“Where are you taking me anyway?”
“Colorado.”
I feel a wave of nausea. He’s leading us right to the slaughter. We’ll be sitting ducks. Ripe for the taking the second we’re wheels down in my father’s state and so close to my husband’s home.
“Are you mad? Have you done any of your research?”
“Research is all I’ve been doing for weeks.” There’s a sly smile teasing at the corner of his mouth.
I realize now that every conversation I thought I had with him was a practiced trap. One he was luring me into. Everything I thought I’d felt or seen in him was manufactured. Carefully crafted in order to get my attention and prey on my weaknesses. I hate him for it.
“Not enough. Clearly.” His pride over his intelligence is a weakness I’m willing to press on.
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Your friend doesn’t seem happy about it. I imagine this wasn’t the original plan.”
“Not exactly. I didn’t expect you to be lying about being a nun.”
“I didn’t expect you to lie to me about everything.” There’s a hint of anger in my tone, and I’m trying to control it. It won’t help me, not if he’s anything like my husband. He’ll just punish me more for making him feel guilty.
“Why did you have drugs in your room anyway?” He’s uninterested in my accusation.
“A backup plan in case things ever went badly.” I meant it for my husband if he ever returned to take me, but this man made me waste it. Now I have to find more.
“You should have practiced tying your knots a little tighter as part of that plan.”
“I’ll be sure to make notes for the next time. Trust me.”
There’s a flash of amusement over his face before the well-practiced mask returns.
“I’ll make sure we have extra security. Do you want to tell me your husband’s name, or should I just keep going through this phone?” He holds up the secondary phone I kept hidden under my mattress.
I rarely use it. Only for my required check-ins.
It’s the only connection to my husband I still have left besides the inconvenient piece of paper that keeps me bound to him.
I’d burn it if I could. The man tortured me with the offer of an annulment whenever he needed my compliance.
But it’s been eerily quiet lately, like maybe he finally started to let me go.
My disappearance would certainly be the end of that silence though. Any disobedience of his rules was an attack on his ego. He'll be back with a vengeance unless I figure out a way to stop it. I jump up and grab for my phone, but he yanks it back out of my reach.
I’m tall, five eleven to be exact, but this man still has close to a half dozen inches on me. He can dangle it high enough to keep it just out of my grasp.
“If I can text him, maybe I can explain.” I try to reason with him.
“Explain what?” He looks at me like the thought is ridiculous.
“That there was a misunderstanding. I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Why do you have two phones? Why not just talk to him on the other one?”
“This was my old life. That one is my new one.” I feel my heart sink when I realize the phone has too, straight to the bottom of the lake. I'll never get those pictures back or the memories I've saved in it.
“There’s no misunderstanding to explain. If he wants you, he can come and get you. Or die trying.” His voice is flat, but I don’t miss the glimmer in his eyes.
“You’re cocky,” I observe.
“I’m not worried about a man who makes his wife run off to a convent. He sounds like a cunt.”
“A cunt who has the full force of my father’s money and political power behind him. He’s ruthless. Untouchable. You don’t get it,” I counter because I really don’t think he understands the seriousness of the situation.
“It almost sounds like you’ve got a schoolgirl crush on him. I thought you swore off those.”
I try ignoring his jab, but my cheeks pink anyway. “I’m just trying to get you to understand the reality.”
“Let me worry about that. You just focus on behaving yourself on this flight and not disrupting the crew.”
“Or what? You’ll have your friend take care of me?”
“I don’t need anyone’s help to take care of you.
” The threat sends a chill down my spine, reminding me that, however much I might have thought I knew this man—as a selfless priest who wandered the archives and gardens with me, only too happy to discuss literature and art and music—I had no idea who the wolf really was behind the sheep’s clothing.
His brow raises at my silence, and he asks again, “His name?”
“Corey Craig,” I say his name quietly. Judging by the way Levi’s face falls, he knows exactly who my husband is.