Chapter Thirty-One
Mia
I wake up in bed with a pounding headache, my head feeling like it’s been split open.
The one where your eyes are throbbing so much it hurts to open them.
My sheets feel different. They’re new, stiff, like they’ve never been washed before.
The crease from being in the packet is folded slightly against my leg.
The sun is warming my face through the window from the wrong side.
Wasn’t I just about to meet Lottie to tell her I accepted the position?
Maybe my subconscious finally told me to hurry up and accept the job.
I shift slightly and feel a warm body next to mine.
Alfie. What is he doing here? And where is here?
I roll over, my hand reaching for him. My head is still groggy, my eyes squinting from the brightness of the sun, but I feel him through the cotton T-shirt he’s wearing.
His body leans toward me, but he smells different.
Off, yet familiar too. My eyes blink open as I scrunch my brow.
I'm trying to focus on what’s happening.
Didn’t Alfie break up with me? How did I end up in bed with him?
I lift my chin, fully opening my eyes now, and blind panic crashes through me. I lurch backward, nearly careening off the bed that’s barely big enough for the two of us.
“Carter?” I look around me, wondering if somehow I’d woken in an alternate universe.
He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, his hands reach out to my face, stroking my cheek with the back of his forefinger.
“I’m so happy you’re here, sweet girl,” he croons as bile rises up my throat. That fucking nickname makes me want to hurl more than the woozy sensation I’m feeling right now. What the hell is going on?
I look around again. The bedroom door is shut, the window shut too. But it’s barely springtime, so that’s to be expected.
“Where am I?” I ask lamely.
“Aren’t you pleased to see me?” He jolts, his finger swiftly moving away from me.
Think.
Think, Mia.
“I’m confused—I don’t know where I am or what I’m doing here.”
“I rescued you, silly girl. I told you I’d come back for you, didn’t I?” He nods, like he’s coaching me to remember.
“Carter, it’s been ten…eleven years.”
“And you’ve waited so patiently for me.”
I shake my head. No. That’s not what’s happened at all. This is a nightmare. It must be.
I lift myself so I’m sitting, but my head swirls, and the rumpled blanket makes it feel like I’m swimming.
“Steady, sweet girl. The sedative is probably still in your system. Come and lie down with me like we used to.”
He reaches his hand out, and I flinch. He purses his lips, his eyes spiking with annoyance before he breathes in and out deeply, a calm exterior renewed again.
“That’s okay. We’ll get to know each other again soon. We have all the time in the world now that I’ve saved you from that man.”
Alfie.
Oh God, I was meant to meet him this morning…
at least I think it was this morning. Surely he wouldn’t think I’d just not shown up?
Lottie would have let him know I didn’t come to her house last night.
But maybe not; she knows I’m not talking to him right now, and besides, what would they assume?
That I’d chickened out on telling them both no and left. Nobody will be looking for me.
What do I do in this situation? Carter is clearly unwell.
He can’t surely think I’ve been waiting for him all this time?
I need to be smart. Stay alert and find a way out as soon as possible.
Despite the urge to wedgie him like I did with Vincent, I know that’s not going to work here.
I need to keep calm and figure out where my exits are.
Be smart, not fast. What would Alfie tell me to do?
He would tell me to put on my doctor head and manipulate the fuck out of this asshole.
He’d tell me I need to look like he has a chance.
That I need to carefully feed into the delusion.
I’m a fucking doctor, I can do this. He’ll expect me to be hesitant at first, so I will be. I’ll ease into the role. I’ll let him think he’s winning me over.
Where has he been all this time?
How did he find me?
“What time is it?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.
“Breakfast time. I made your favorite.”
I frown, thinking back to all those years ago. He’s still acting like I’m seventeen, so maybe I should lean into that.
“Blueberry pancakes?”
My guess is rewarded with a toothy smile. “See, I know you, sweet girl. I know you almost gave up on me. That’s why I had to leave those notes for you. As a reminder.” He nods.
The notes?
Oh shit.
The notes.
It wasn’t Nate.
My heart plummets as I fight the urge to cry. The realization that everything we’d suspected was false. But how?
“How did you sneak them into my desk?”
His grin turns wicked. “I’m a patient.”
“Not of Al—" I cough. “Dr. Adams?”
He doesn’t seem to notice my slip-up though, as he barrels through with his explanation, which no doubt he thinks is the most clever thing I’ll have ever heard of. How was I ever attracted to this man? Was he always such a know-it-all? Desperately trying to be the cleverest person in the room.
“Go on, Mia, take a wild guess.”
“You’re a Wednesday afternoon patient.”
But I would have recognized his name…unless he’s using a fake name. But it was court mandated, so would that even be possible?
He laughs, nodding for me to continue. “You’re Sean Sanders,” I whisper.
“Clever girl. You were always so bright, Mia. I knew you would do well. Imagine if you had had me to guide you the last ten years. Imagine how much you could have achieved by now.” He strokes my hair, and I have to force myself to lean into him.
“But I’m here now. Think how well you’re going to do now. ”
I’m a goddamn doctor. I did that all on my own. I did it despite what he did to me. I did it, all without being able to go home and have the support of my family. All because of this fucking monster in front of me, smiling like he’s rescued a princess from an ivory tower.
“Where are we?”
“We’re still in Seattle,” he says, playing with the ends of my hair. “We’ll move soon. We can’t linger too long, but I just couldn’t wait to have you in bed again.”
My stomach rolls and my mouth downturns.
He’s going to expect me to have sex with him.
I’m going to have to look like I enjoy it.
I did enjoy it. As much as a seventeen-year-old can with a thirty-two-year-old man.
My first everything was with him. He’ll know if I’m faking; he’ll know if I’m acting.
I have to delay this as long as possible. I use the one card I know will work.
“I’m on my period,” I say, grimacing.
He laughs, “Mia, I’ve moved on from such trivial matters. I know I used to avoid it before, but it’s different now.”
I place my hand on his, and his eyes widen, a faint blush hitting his cheeks.
“I just don’t want our first time after all these years to be when I’m on my period.
I don’t want to be self conscious about the mess and the fact I’m bloated.
I don’t want to be distracted.” I squeeze his hand for good measure, and he swallows, letting out a slow steady breath.
“Of course, it has to be special. It will be, I’ll make sure of it.”
We smile at each other, and I feel like he expects me to say more. “Can I have a glass of water?”
He jumps from the bed, heading to the door. “Of course. I just got so wrapped up in having you back. I’ll get you some food as well. Then we’ll be hitting the road.”
He opens the door, closing it as he leaves. I hear the snick of a lock and the slide of a deadbolt.
The bastard has locked me in here. Literally locked me in a bedroom.
Jumping out of bed, I brace myself against the wall as I look out the window.
I’m only on the first floor, so I could easily jump and not kill myself.
Maybe just a bruised ankle if I’m lucky.
I try to wiggle the window, but it’s then that I see two nails haphazardly hammered into the wooden frame, locking it in place.
I tug on one of them as hard as I can, just about getting the tip of my finger underneath the head but no luck.
But it quickly slips and my knuckle whacks against the wooden frame with a thud.
I hiss, pulling my hand into my chest and squeezing as hard as I can.
There’s no time for this. No time to soothe.
I need to find an exit as fast as possible.
I turn to the door that Carter walked through, twisting the handle in case I’d somehow imagined the lock.
“Carter,” I call out. “I need the bathroom.”
“Two seconds, sweet girl.” The bile threatens to crawl up my throat again as I instinctively move away from the door.
I’m not a kid anymore.
I’m not his fucking sweet girl.
I’m going to be his worst fucking nightmare.
The smell of coffee warms the air as he opens the door. I smile and ask where the bathroom is. He points down the corridor and lets me walk alone. He can’t be worried about me escaping.
I step into the bathroom, closing the door. There’s no lock, but that's okay.
The window has no nails, and I twist the catch and slide it up as slowly as I can, not daring to make any more noise than necessary. But as quickly as I have the window open, I hear footsteps coming down the hallway. The door swings open as I’m closing it quickly.
“What are you doing?” he snaps.
“I was feeling dizzy. I wanted some fresh air.”
“You can’t open that.” The vein on his forehead bulges.
“Okay, I just needed the bathroom, and I didn’t want it to smell bad in here.”
Jesus, he’s never gonna buy that excuse.
“You want to keep the mystery alive?” He smirks. “I’ve been you first for everything, Mia. I think we’re well past that, don’t you?”
“Of course.” I smile. “I’ll leave it shut. It’s too cold, anyway.”
“Good girl. You can have the window down when we’re in the car.”