Chapter 7
ROSALIE
Ipaced the room, waiting for Cole to return. He kept strange hours. Or I assumed they were strange since I didn’t even know when it was night or day down in my lavish cage.
And that’s what this place was. A damn cage.
If I were free, I’d be home. I’d have finished my tour. I’d be relaxing at the pool while Ani and Evan taught Ellis to swim. Klaus would be at my side while we watched our family.
Instead, I was stuck in the basement of Cole’s fucking cattery, waiting impatiently for him to return so I could clock him again.
This time, I’d rigged together a dictionary and a bottle of soap from the bathroom so that when he stepped into the room, the dictionary would drop from the table and the two chairs I’d put next to the door.
I’d had to shred my bedsheets to make this plan actionable, but the general idea was to get his eyes with the soap so he was blinded by the pain.
I’d break free and get the hell out of here.
The handle jingled, and I braced myself to run.
The door opened, and Cole came into the room. The book fell, knocking over the chairs and crashing into him. The soap went off, but not at the right angle, since the chairs toppled. The white mess hit him in the chest as the chairs fell into him.
He grunted as he tripped and went sideways.
Good enough.
I rushed forward as he caught himself from going down completely. I ran through the doorway, straight up the stairs, and came crashing into the kitchen.
Not giving a damn that I was in my night gown yet, I rushed through the room and made it to the front door and pulled it open.
I’d just stepped outside, freedom in sight, when Cole’s arms wound around me and dragged me back in, kicking and screaming.
Immediately, he covered my mouth and kicked the front door closed.
I bit his hand, making him hiss and release me.
I turned and glared at him.
“You said you’d give me the two weeks,” he said, eyeing me.
“Fuck you,” I snarled. “I am going home.”
“You’re really not, Rosebud.”
I backed away from him. I’d lived in this house. I knew the exits. I knew the rooms. The layout.
“Don’t do it,” Cole murmured.
I darted away into the living room, him hot on my heels. Our old couch was still here. In fact, it looked like all the furniture was still here. Even pictures were still on the walls.
I put the couch between us.
“What will you do now?” he asked softly, a tiny smirk on his lips.
“Looks like you kept the furniture,” I said. “Did you keep the guns downstairs, too? Because if you did, I’m going to shoot you in the fucking dick, you asshole.”
He chuckled at that. “The guns have been relocated. You’ll have to put your pretty mouth on my dick instead.”
“You fucking wish.”
“I do,” he replied, his blue eyes sparkling.
I grabbed a decorative glass bowl off the side table and hurled it at him.
“Fuck,” he shouted as it nailed him in the shoulder, knocking him sideways.
I took off, racing upstairs to my old room. I’d throw myself off the balcony if I had to.
I slammed the bedroom door behind me and locked it before backing away.
Nothing had really changed in here. My bed was still just as I’d left it. Even my stack of books was still on my desk.
Cole’s loud stomps as he came up the stairs sounded out. With a cry, I pushed my dresser against the door, hoping to keep him out. It took everything I had inside me to move that heavy thing, but I got it in a good enough position before rushing into the closet.
He swore as he tried to open the door.
“Rosalie, I’m not playing. Open the damn door.”
“Go to hell!” I yelled from the closet.
“I have lived in hell for the last five years. Come on. Let’s just talk. I’m sorry for kidnapping you—”
“My husband is going to kill you!” I shouted back.
He was quiet for a moment as I dug through old boxes, looking for anything to help me get off the damn balcony.
“I’m not afraid of Anson,” he finally replied. “Come on. Open the door.”
“You’ve lost your fucking mind!” I shrieked.
“I-I know I’m not being normal, but what the hell else was I supposed to do? It wasn’t like I could just call you and talk to you.”
“Why not?” I shouted, frustrated that I hadn’t been into bondage. Had I, there would be ropes in this damn place. I made a mental note to take up more hobbies.
He was quiet again. “I-I didn’t think you’d take my call.”
“News flash! Try that next time before you fucking kidnap someone!”
“OK. You’re mad. I get it. But we can fix it if you just come out. Please. I only want to talk.”
“Not happening.” I spotted a bunch of old dresses and went to them. Quickly, I took them off the hangers and began tying them together.
“Another note to self: keep more weapons in the house,” I muttered.
“Rosalie?” Cole called out. “You’re being quiet. What are you doing?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I continued my work as he grunted and bitched on the other side of the locked bedroom door, clearly trying to use his strength to get it open. I’d wedged it in a way that would make it hard as hell for him to get in.
“Rosalie! Come on! Just…” Grunt. “Talk to me.”
“Fuck off,” I shouted.
“No, like real talk. Please.”
“Asshole,” I muttered, hauling out the dress rope I’d made and opening the balcony doors.
“Rosalie? Hey. Come on. Don’t you fucking dare try to go off the balcony. You’ll get hurt. Rosalie? Rosalie!”
“See you, jerk.” I threw the dress over the balcony railing, tied the sleeves together to hold it, and looked down. If I fell, I’d die because I’d hit the stone patio below. My room was on the second floor, but with the house’s high ceilings, the drop had to be at least 30 feet. Maybe more.
It was worth trying.
Carefully, I climbed over the railing of the balcony in my purple nightgown and bare feet. Night had fallen. Cole continued to hammer on the door, calling my name.
I had to move fast in case he came down.
I breathed out, my heart pounding, and grabbed the dress rope I’d made.
“Please hold,” I whispered, my voice shaking.
I slowly began making my way down. It was going well. Great even until I was almost at the bottom.
I hadn’t tied one of the dresses tight enough, or the silky material was a bad choice coupled with my weight, but whatever it was, I saw it as it slowly slid apart.
I screamed as I fell, reaching out for nothing.
I landed with a soft cry just off the stone patio, but my foot came down hard under me.
The pain was instant.
It burned up my leg as I fell over.
But I was alive.
I lay for a few moments, trying to catch my breath since the wind was knocked out of me before I rolled onto my stomach.
Knowing I probably broke my ankle, I army crawled, telling myself all I had to do was get beneath one of the big bushes before I could rest for a moment.
But the pain.
God. The pain.
I willed myself not to cry, cursing Cole’s name, as I did my best to move across the grass.
I made it about halfway across the big lawn before I forced myself to my feet and tried to run on my ankle.
Bad idea. The pain was insane.
I cried out, stumbled, and fell, tears rolling down my cheeks.
Warm hands scooped me up as I struggled to pull myself across the lawn again, and I stared into Cole’s face.
“You’re hurt,” he said, his voice soft. “I’ll take care of you.”
Damnit.
“Let me go. Please, Cole,” I begged softly.
“No,” he replied. “I’m never letting you go again. I learned my lesson.”
There was no point in trying to fight him. Now, I needed to play a different game, it seemed.
Because I couldn’t escape, I’d just have to try different tactics.
If my heart could handle it.
I breathed out and rested my head against his chest.
His breath caught at the move, and I knew… I knew this was what I had to do to get free.
“It’s OK,” Cole murmured. “I’ve got you.”
“It hurts,” I choked out, not pretending. My leg felt like it was on fire. “I-I think my ankle is broken.”
He swore softly. “I’ll check it when we get inside, OK? I-I’m a doctor now. I can fix all your aches and pains.”
I looked at him as he carried me with ease inside. He was still Cole, but he was older now. Bigger. Stronger. Definitely far crazier.
But still…Cole.
I could do this.
“I need to go to the hospital,” I said, my voice shaking.
“I have everything to fix you,” he said tightly.
“Cole, please—”
“Trust me.” We entered the house, and he took me straight back to my room and placed me in bed.
I whimpered, making him curse softly. He went to the fridge, quickly put together a baggie of ice, and returned to me. He stuffed some pillows under my foot to elevate it and put the ice on it.
“I-I need to go grab a few things,” he said. “I promise I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, afraid he’d just leave me like this.
“I swear I’ll be back. I need to get something to wrap your ankle.” He took my hand in his and pressed a fierce kiss on my knuckles. “I-I’ll hurry, OK?”
I nodded, my throat tight. “Please. It hurts.”
His eyes wavered before he released my hand and backed away. It broke my heart to see the look on his face. He was hurting because I was hurting.
I didn’t like that. None of this crap would have happened if he’d just let me go. Or hell, not taken me in the first place.
Cole Scott really did piss me off.
But I was going to play on his emotions to get the hell out of here.
I just really hope it didn’t break me too in the process.