Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
I stare at the door. The door that is about to open and let the terrifying unknown in. Other people. Dangerous people. Will Hadrian protect me?
Can I trust him?
Panic hits me with all the pent-up force of the unknown. Christ, I should be stronger than this but for the first time in weeks, I’m fucking terrified. What the hell is outside that door? My hands start to shake, and I clench them, but not before Hadrian notices.
His brow creases. “Doll? Are you all right?”
Shit. Shit. I don’t want this freakout to jeopardize getting out of here, but logic isn’t in the driving seat right now. I take in a ragged breath, then another, and he covers the distance between us before I get to the third.
He wraps his arms around me.
“Shhhhhhh. It’s okay. It’s safe in the Compound, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
It’s the first time he’s held me as himself, and I breathe in his scent. His body is bulkier, but it’s still him. Christ, it’s still him, and his arms feel like safety.
Susan Grimshaw called me an ugly bitch with a dumb accent. Hadrian told her to fuck off, even though he knew her brother would kick his ass. I was homesick, and it hit me the wrong way, sending fifteen-year-old me into floods of tears. He wrapped his arms around me, and I fell in love.
I missed out on the Harvard scholarship I worked so hard for. My bright future fizzled out as I stared at the paper in my hand. Tears came, even though I tried to stop them. He was there.
My phone rang at one in the morning from a withheld number. I answered it, already knowing the news had to be bad. By the time we made it to the hospital, Mum was already dead. Night after night after night, he held me as I cried.
His scent hasn’t changed. I relax into him, letting it wash the fear away. Can I trust him? It might make me the dumbest woman on earth, but it feels like I can.
He rubs my back, and it’s so familiar it makes my legs wobble. Get it together. Seriously. By the time I do, there’s a deep ache in my chest, but I swallow the threatening tears. Not now.
He releases me slowly, arms still resting on my shoulders. There’s a deep wrinkle between his brows, and the silence has weight. I get the very distinct impression he’s lost for what to say. His throat works, and I hold my breath.
Then he drops his hands to his sides and turns away. “Time to go, doll.”
Back to the hardass again.
I follow him to the door. I’ve only passed through this door once, and it was such a mad scramble I hardly remember it.
I breathe deeply as we walk down the bare corridor and reach the second door. The airlock. I ball my fists and straighten my spine. I can’t crumble. I’m not weak. I’m already more pissed off with myself than afraid. Good. That’s better.
Hadrian presses his palm to the door, and it beeps.
That’s it? That’s all it took? I could have knocked him unconscious, dragged his body down the corridor, and escaped. Sure. Because it’s that easy in real life. The door slides silently open, and Hadrian glances back at me.
“Don’t run, doll. I could have put a leash on you or restraints. I haven’t, and it’s not because I trust you. It’s because it doesn’t matter if you run. You have a tracker in your neck, and the Compound is surrounded by soldiers. There’s no need for restraints.”
Well, that was ominous.
“Yes, Master.” He gives me a long look, as if checking for hidden meaning in the words, then turns his back. Sweat breaks out all over my body as he walks through the door, and I follow.
The room would have been dull under normal circumstances.
A mid-sized office, dominated by a large bank of monitors, all showing my empty cell.
A mini fridge stocked with water and Dr Pepper—that hasn’t changed, at least. God, I want to drink one, even though I usually don’t like them.
My taste buds might self-destruct with an overload of excitement.
The overhead strip lights give off harsh, white illumination. The air smells like a stale office, not like a musty cave. There’s a soft, squashy looking sofa in the corner, and I want to throw myself onto it.
I soak it in. It’s modern. It’s different.
It’s not my cell. Hadrian pauses, then takes my hand in his.
His inked fingers wrap mine, and it’s weird and familiar all at once.
It should be restrictive—he’s the reason I’m obsessing over ugly fluorescents and Dr fucking Pepper—but it doesn’t feel restrictive. It feels as comforting as all hell.
“This might be a little overwhelming. It’s okay if it is.”
It’s the gentlest he’s treated me since I arrived, and I want to slap him and cling to him all at once. He’s right. It is overwhelming, and once we go outside, it will be doubly so.
He rubs his thumb over the back of my hand, then starts toward the door. Again, his handprint opens it. A primal rush runs through me as sunlight streams in through the opening.
Sunlight. Oh my God.
I want to run toward it, but Hadrian’s warning and his firm grip on my hand hold me in place. Don’t mess this up. We walk out together and the warm summer sun wraps me up. I close my eyes against the glare. Hadrian pauses, giving me time to adjust.
A breeze blows the scent of flowers my way, and I take a deep, beautiful breath. Sound pours in, and I struggle to sort out the jumbled flood. I hadn’t realized how deathly silent my cell was until this exact moment.
Wind blowing.
A man’s laugh in the distance.
A dog barking, followed by a woman’s voice. “Get down, Edgar. Sorry. He’s a puppy. He’s just big.”
Birds. Lots of them. Didn’t Hadrian say we were in a forest?
I open my eyes, and the outside world greets me.
I clutch Hadrian’s hand a little tighter as I try to process what I’m seeing.
I’m on a street, with tall, office-type buildings on one side of me and parkland on the other.
Leafy trees sway in the breeze, and movement has me snapping my head to the right.
A small woman in her fifties struggles with a very large, very excited dog. “Edgar. For God’s sake, settle down.”
A tall, skinny man appears, holds his hand out, and she passes over the leash. He says, “Don’t complain. I wanted a Jack Russell.”
She rolls her eyes, and the two of them leave, tugged along by Edgar.
Normal. It’s so normal that I think about running after them.
Surely they don’t know I’m a captive? This has to be a fantasy of Hadrian’s, the delusion of a fractured mind.
We’re in the middle of a city. We have to be.
But as I watch them head down the street, something else catches my eye.
What the actual fuck?
A man and woman sit together on a bench.
He has a large book open on his knee, and his head bent down, speaking into her ear.
He’s strikingly handsome, blond hair and a stylish suit.
A scar crosses his eye, giving him a dangerous look.
She’s just as stunning, with amazing deep blue hair falling in waves around her shoulders.
She’s also naked to the waist.
I close my eyes, sure I must be imagining things, but when I open them again, her tits are very much still on display. Right there. In the middle of the street. On second glance, she also has a collar around her neck, attached to a leash gripped in the man’s hand.
I look to Hadrian, then back at the couple, and he lets out a low, amused noise. “That’s Sebastian and Ophelia. He likes showing her off. Let’s go and say hello.”
Hadrian is okay with this? Hadrian, who almost had a heart attack when I suggested a trip to a nudist beach on our one European holiday? He’s cool with this? Am I the prude in this relationship now?
Not that it’s a relationship.
I let him lead me toward the couple, feeling more like I’m dreaming than I have since I first woke up in Saldar’s dungeon. The couple look up when Hadrian clears his throat, and their eyes widen when they look at me. The woman lets out a shocked gasp.
It could just be that we startled them, but it feels like more than that.
The man recovers quickly, giving me a dazzling smile.
“You must be Juliet. Hadrian has told me so much about you. I’m Sebastian, and this badly behaved little pet is Ophelia.
I apologize for her current state of undress, but it’s her own fault. ”
Then he holds out his hand as if we’re meeting in a boardroom. Ophelia groans, “Jesus,” and turns a deep beetroot red, but she’s shifting about in a way I recognize all too well. Whatever the hell this is, she’s enjoying it.
I just stare at Sebastian’s hand until Hadrian prompts, “Shake his hand, doll. And remember to be polite. Sebastian is a Brother.”
Shit. This just hit a million on the fucked-up-ometer, and I’m like a baby gazelle blinking in the sunlight. I give his hand a weak shake and manage, “Pleased to meet you, sir. And Ophelia.”
Sebastian addresses Hadrian directly. “She’s very well behaved.
Ophelia could do with a little of that. She was supposed to be studying for her big anatomy test but decided to get drunk with her friends instead.
So, I brought her out here for a little extra motivation.
” He waves the book. “Every question she gets wrong, she loses an item of clothing.”
Anatomy test? This just shot right past weird and came out the other side.
Ophelia gives me a small, embarrassed smile. “I’ll introduce you to the girls once you’re allowed.”
“It’s her first day in the Compound, out of her cell,” Hadrian cuts in, and he sounds…stressed? Maybe? He’s so hard to read. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m taking her to see the gate.”
Ophelia’s face tightens, and Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You really know how to show a girl a good time, don’t you?”
It’s said lightly, but Ophelia’s face darkens even more. She ignores the men and focuses on me. “Don’t be scared. It’s not all bad in here. What did you do before—”
Hadrian barks, “We have to go.”
Ophelia snaps her mouth shut at Hadrian’s sharp tone, and Sebastian slides his hand onto her knee in what looks like a comforting way.
“Don’t worry, pet. I’m sure you’ll get to know her soon.” He gets to his feet and nods to Hadrian. “If you need anything, give Gabriel or me a call. Maybe not Jacob right now.”
Pain flits across Hadrian’s face, brief but unmistakable. “I know. I appreciate it.”
He tugs on my hand. Whatever the fuck “the gate” is, I’m about to see it.