Chapter 5 #2
He turns to me quickly, and a finger curls under my chin, tilting my face toward him. I hate how my pulse spikes, and my throat goes tight.
“Don’t waste your breath arguing, darling,” his voice is slow and deliberate. “Your father is dead. Your brothers are dead. And you?” His thumb drags lightly along my jaw, his touch a contradiction to the intensity of the moment. “You should be careful if you’d like to avoid the same fate.”
I suck in a breath and try to shake him off, confused by the feelings his touch gives me and the violent pain his words shoot through me.
Is this a threat or a promise?
Hayden’s gaze darkens, and for a second, I think he might tell me something worthwhile. But then he releases me just as easily as he took hold of me, leaning back against the seat, exhaling a slow breath.
I realize I’m shaking, with more questions waiting on my lips.
“Don’t ask questions I won’t answer, because, as I’ll remind you,” he murmurs, “You belong to me. I don’t owe you anything other than taking care of my property.”
My hands curl into fists. “You can’t keep me. I’m a person,” a tear rolls down my cheek, bitter and full of grief.
“I can,” he says, but his tone conveys how little my questions mean to him.
The city vanishes behind us, swallowed by the blackened highway. I twist in my seat, watching as the skyline, the estates tucked into the large groupings of trees, fade into the horizon, the last piece of my world slipping away.
It’s just darkness now, small little lights. I couldn’t even say goodbye.
The silence between us thickens, pressing against my ribs. The weight of it is unbearable, yet Hayden sits in it so effortlessly, so completely at ease in my unraveling.
I turn back toward the front, my throat tight, “Where are we going?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. He only glances at me, then out the window, his fingers resuming their idle game with that ring, skull and crossbones, small but unmistakable, a whisper of death wrapped around his pinky.
I don’t know why, but I feel colder and begin to shiver. He doesn’t offer me his coat.
“Home,” he finally says.
A chill settles in my stomach. “Your house? And where is that? In the City? Upstate, near Eulogia?”
“Not far from Eulogia.”
I don’t know what I expected. The police? A safe house to protect me from my impending death? I don’t know, but I know I don’t want to go anywhere that belongs to him.
I don't even know if I'm in danger. I clearly must be, to have suffered the death of all four of my closest relatives in just a few short hours.
“No,” I say, shaking my head, “take me somewhere else.”
“There is nowhere else.”
“Then take me to Eulogia,” I demand, “Or to the Franklins. I’m sure Archie is looking for me.”
I open my mouth to continue complaining, but he gives me a look, just a look, nothing more, and my pulse trips over itself. He’s enjoying this. My panic, my defiance. I don’t know what’s worse—the way he stares at me like I’m his, or the way part of me wonders if I’m desperate to be.
He’s infuriatingly handsome. His stature is enormous, practically crowding me in the town car. There’s an angry look that seems almost frozen on his handsome face, full of striking features, full lips, and slightly tilted eyes.
“You have a misguided sense of ownership over me,” I protest, suddenly angry at his devastatingly attractive features and his bloated ego. The car is stuffy with his haughty demeanor.
He doesn’t respond, and all it does is make me want to sass and stomp my foot. I know it’s not worth it. I know how these men are, so I gulp my rage down and decide to use the remainder of the car ride to plot my escape from whatever hell I’m fast approaching.
I turn my gaze back to the window, watching the city disappear and allowing myself to get lost in thought about my impending imprisonment.
Is he to keep me in a cage, with only a water dish and a bowl of food, as though I'm a house pet? Am I to be forced into a room under lock and key, unable to return to my studies at Eulogia?
Minutes, or perhaps hours, slip by as the buildings shrink to nothing. Through the blur of my tears, the city lights dissolve into blurred halos, and all I feel is the pull away from the world I knew and deeper into his.
Suddenly, I am full of rage, and I swallow the tears, remembering why I was angry in the first place—control and control, from every corner.
And the worst part of all?
I crave it, I can’t exist without it, but for once I’d like a moment of my own. To breathe. To digest. To feel the horrific things I’ve just witnessed in private without the demands and expectations of a man.
I've given up the mental gymnastics of conversing with Hayden, so we're quiet until we reach the entrance of what I assume is his home.
The car slows, tires crunching over the gravel drive as we pull forward down its private entrance.
Beyond the gate, a towering mansion is illuminated by a haunting exterior lighting.
A beast of a place, standing stark against the night, its looming facade covered beautifully in large groupings of ivy.
It’s as big, if not bigger than, my family's estate.
I swallow. “This is yours?”
He nearly scoffs, “Yes.”
“Yours alone?” I ask softly, wondering if there are parents or family inside.
“Just mine,” he bites back, showing, finally, the first sliver of emotion this evening.
It’s too much. The night, the deaths, the way I’m sitting here, letting him take me somewhere I can’t guarantee my safety. My breath shudders, my chest tight.
And while I'm hungry to run, this place is unfamiliar. I can’t possibly escape him here when the estate and its vast lands belong to him.
The car rolls to a stop. The driver moves first, stepping out to open Hayden’s door. He doesn’t move right away. Instead, he watches me for a moment longer, his fingers brushing the skull on his ring like an afterthought.
Hayden watches me, as though reading my thoughts. “Don’t run.”
My head tilts toward him, uncomfortable with how clearly he seems to see through me.
His lips curve at the edges, but his eyes are sharp, watching me.
Then, he steps out.
I sit frozen.
The driver swings the door next to me open, and I’m hit with a rush of cold air, the scent of damp grass. Hayden’s silhouette stands a few paces from the car door.
I don’t move.
“Out,” he says.
I exhale shakily, my body screaming at me to stay put. But I know better.
I step into the dark and feel myself unraveling. The wild animal inside of me is desperate for release.
The second my heels hit the gravel, I move. I don’t think, without hesitation, I run.
Once I bolt past the gravel driveway, I run through the grass as the mud sucks at my heels. It had rained this morning, a beautiful indication of how today would turn out.
My breath rasps in my ears as the house comes into view, but I turn left instead, drawn to the trees that border the property and the darkness they offer.
“Martine.” Hayden’s voice cuts through the night, steady, dark, and almost amused.
I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I won’t.
The damp earth swallows my steps, my dress tangling around my legs as I push myself to run faster. Cold air sears my lungs, and a sharp pain jolts through my foot as I realize my shoe must have come undone, but I do not slow. Twigs snap beneath me, and my heart hammers so violently I feel sick.
I cannot let him have me. I try to hop on one foot to kick off my remaining shoe, nearly tripping in the process, and instead of gaining speed, I stumble forward in a clumsy, flailing rhythm.
I hear him now. Not running, walking at a much slower, unhurried pace behind me. Like he knows exactly how this will end.
“Keep running, darling,” he calls, his voice low and soft. “See where it gets you.”
A sob catches in my throat, and I focus on getting to the edge of his property. I push harder, finally making it to the treeline, darting through it to find some cover. The branches clawing at my arms, my hair, my already-ruined dress. I can’t see, can barely breathe, but I keep going, keep going—
Until I don’t.
The fabric of my dress wrenches tight, snagging on something. My body lurches forward, balance tipping, arms flailing.
There is a clearing up ahead with the gate not too far beyond, but in the cover of the trees, I can barely see in front of me.
My breath rips from my lungs as I let out a scream and begin to tumble down.
My dress tangles around my legs, the delicate silk shredding against the rocks and mud.
The impact of my fall will be brutal, and I try to curl my body to anticipate it.
My body crashes against the wet earth, rolling hard, my limbs twisting as I skid down the embankment I didn’t see right ahead of me.
Suddenly, a strong, merciless hand clamps around the back of my neck, jerking me back so hard my feet lift from the ground. A gasp rips from my lips as I collide with him, my body folding to his will, his grip unbreakable.
“Fucking foolish,” Hayden growls against my ear, his breath hot, his voice thick with something that makes my stomach twist and coil.
I claw at his hand, my nails biting into his skin, but he only wrenches me tighter against him.
His chest is iron at my back, the heat of his body scorching through the rain-chilled air.
His arm locks around my waist, keeping me pinned against him as if I weigh nothing.
Every shift, every movement only makes me more aware of him, of the firm ridges of his muscles pressing into me, the way his breath stays controlled while mine comes in sharp.
My breaths come in frantic gasps as I thrash and kick, but it is useless; he is stronger, faster, and far more ruthless.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I spit, my voice shaking with fury and something else I refuse to name. I can’t see his face as he still holds me trapped, my back to his front.