Chapter Ten - Elise
CHAPTER TEN
Elise
A combination of dreams and memories results in a restless night of sleep. Fears and realities mix until I can’t tell one from the other. Dark figures crowding me in a small room, a knife to my throat, a switch biting into my skin again and again.
I wake up in a cold sweat.
It’s only 2:30 a.m.
I still have a lot of night left to go.
Laying here in the dark, it’s harder to convince myself that I have things under control. I don’t feel nearly as confident as I had after my dinner with Joshua.
A part of me wishes I paid more attention to how my family operates. Maybe there’s a protocol for hostage situations that would give me some peace of mind. Then again, my ignorance has saved me in here.
A blessing and a curse.
My wishful thinking brings me back to the last time I saw my father and brothers, just a month ago.
Saturday, April 18: five weeks earlier
“Are you excited for graduation next week, Elise?” James’s attempt to make this dinner less awkward is appreciated but ultimately ineffective.
My father, brothers, and I are seated in the grand dining room, attempting to enjoy a meal together, but it isn’t going well.
Dad sits at the head of the table, choosing to ignore the glares between Logan and Mason, but it’s too obvious for me to overlook. I have no idea what caused the tension, and since no one seems keen on filling me in, I have to assume it’s about work.
Damon seems legitimately oblivious to the strain between his younger siblings. In fact, he looks ill with his shoulders hunched and his eyes drowsy. No one else seems concerned with his appearance, so I decide not to mention it.
James periodically shoots warning glances to Logan, no doubt silently begging his twin to get himself under control, as he simultaneously tries to distract me with trivial conversation.
For everyone’s sake, I entertain the small talk. “Yeah, I am. At this point, I’m just filling out as many job applications as possible.”
“You don’t need to get a job,” my father says, shoving a forkful of meatloaf into his mouth.
“I want to get a job. I mean, what else would I do all day?”
“Pick up some hobbies,” he suggests. “Sewing, writing, piano. Do whatever you want.”
“Cooking in a restaurant is what I want, Dad.”
“I already told you that I’ll be financially supporting you.”
Before I get a chance to remind him that it isn’t about the money, Damon waves a shaky hand. “Oh, just let her do it. She’s already working at that bakery. Why does a restaurant matter?”
I shoot a grateful smile to my oldest brother, and I think he means to wink at me in return, but he just blinks.
Dad lifts a hand. “You can work if you want to, but I’m still financially supporting you.”
“That’s not necessary. I have plenty of savings from my years at the bakery.”
“My mind is made up on this, Elise.”
“If she wants to branch out on her own, there’s no reason why she can’t,” Mason defends, but his glare is trained on Logan.
“The reason is that Dad has the means to provide for her, so there’s no need to risk Elise being on her own,” Logan counters, voice tight.
“She’s been on her own for years and can take care of herself.”
James tries to placate the situation. “As we’ve already said, both sides are perfectly valid, but it’s been decided that Dad will provide for Elise.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not an idiot. You’re clearly not talking about me.”
Damon snickers, but the others don’t look my way. They do, however, drop their poorly disguised codewords.
Mason’s hand balls into a fist on the table. “Your reasoning is ridiculous. We both know I’m the most qualified candidate to establish the Austin base.”
“It’s my project to manage and my choice to make,” Logan snaps. “A new base won’t have a fraction of the security you’d require as a Consoli. It’s not worth the risk to your safety.”
“We risk our safety every day,” Mason grates.
“Boys!” Dad’s command silences the arguing, and we all look at him. “Logan, remember who’s in charge here. Mason, the decision has been made. This is the last I will hear of this matter. Your sister is here. Let’s try to have a pleasant evening. Understand?”
Both brothers begrudgingly nod and mumble their agreement.
The rest of our dinner is surprisingly enjoyable. Logan and Mason seem to forget their frustration with each other, and we spend the next few hours talking and laughing like a normal family.
And even though we’re anything but a normal family, I wouldn’t trade this for the world.
Present day
My heart squeezes at the memory, and there’s a part of me that would give anything to go back to that moment and forget what I know now. Go back to my blissful oblivion where though my family wasn’t normal, at least it was whole.
But there’s an even bigger part of me that’s glad I know what I do.
This is it—the Consoli family in all its dysfunctional glory. I’ve lived in my private bubble for so long that being with my family felt more like a second life altogether. Somehow, in being taken from my family, I’m closer to them than I have been in years.
Which I fully grasp the irony of.
Despite this grim realization, I have every intention to get out of here and make my snake of a brother pay for what he’s done.
When morning comes, I’m not at all rested.
It’s eight by the time I’ve finished getting ready and pick up Pride and Prejudice, taking it and a chair to the window for a morning of reading.
I’m pleased to find that I’m actually able to get swept into the world of Elizabeth Bennet before being interrupted by the arrival of my breakfast. Thankfully, it’s another tray of real food, and I’m hopeful that my days of bread and oatmeal are behind me.
It's nearly eleven o’clock when the door opens and Joshua steps inside. He wears his typical jeans, T-shirt, and unreadable expression.
“Ready to go to the garden?”
I set my book down without marking the page and follow him to the door, where he turns his body to hide the keypad from my view.
The lock clicks open, and he steps aside, but before I can step through the doorway, Joshua takes hold of my arm. I turn to face him, momentarily stunned to find we’re only inches apart.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” he warns, dark eyes daring me to challenge him.
I’m not dumb enough to accept that dare, but I am prideful enough to taunt him.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I whisper, tilting my head upward to flash my doe eyes.
I expect him to snap at me or at least call me out, but he doesn’t. He just holds me in place, eyes never leaving mine.
As the seconds pass, I become increasingly aware of our closeness and the heat radiating off his body. His intoxicating scent floods my senses as we share the same breath, and my heart doubles its pace in my chest.
By the time Joshua releases my arm, my head is spinning.
What just happened?
Commanding my legs to move, I step through the threshold and let Joshua lead the way. Though he’s in front of me, he periodically checks to ensure I’m following him.
Obviously, I haven’t gained much trust yet.
I pay close attention to my surroundings, though there’s not much to take in since the stucco hallway is seemingly endless. We come to a staircase and walk down two flights leading straight to the garden entrance.
Joshua opens the door for me, and I walk into the most beautiful garden I have ever seen. The view from my room does no justice to the Eden-like space.
The sun’s warmth soaks into my skin, and my bare feet curl into the soft grass.
I take my time wandering the grounds, observing each feature as I do.
Water glistens as it flows down a fountain, shimmering like fabric over a ballgown.
Birdbaths fill the garden with the chattering of their multi-colored occupants.
Benches are tucked into pockets of grass surrounded by vibrant flowers, and though the picture is stationary aside from the butterflies that flutter from flower to flower, it’s a sight I could stare at for hours.
There’s even a small, stone-lined pond with a miniature waterfall spilling over the content koi fish that live there.
When I close my eyes, I can lose myself in the bliss of the floral scent, chirping birds, and flowing water. It’s easy to trick myself into thinking I’m in paradise and not confinement.
A structure to my left catches my attention, and I explore it. As I approach an arrangement of blossom trees, I find a large stone gazebo resting in the center.
I step inside, and though goosebumps rise on my arms from the loss of the sun’s warmth, I’m too intrigued to care.
A table of various foods lies before me. I step toward it, and my stomach growls at the sight of the sandwiches, wraps, salad, croissants, fruit, vegetables, and brownies.
“I had lunch brought out here today. I figured you’d appreciate the change in scenery.” I jump at the sound of Joshua’s voice from behind me.
Has he been following me this whole time?
He stands a few feet away, and I’m taken back by how light his eyes are in the sun, almost hazel.
Right now, with his black jeans slung casually around his waist, gray tee stretching over his muscular chest, and dark hair mussed to perfection, I can almost pretend Joshua is a normal guy.
A guy who would take me out on a date. A guy I could take home to my father.
A guy who would protect me. A guy who would love me.
Joshua is not that guy.
As I fill my plate, I notice Joshua doing the same as he claims the seat opposite me.
“What are you doing?”
His response comes with a small, playful grin. “Last I checked, this was my garden.”
A blush spreads across my cheeks, and I resist the desire to roll my eyes. “I meant, why are you eating with me.”
“I’m hungry,” he says with a shrug, and I decide not to push him.
We dig into our lunch, and the urge to thank him for the food is strong, but I repress it… then again, I am trying to get on his good side. Does it really matter if I thank him as long as I don’t let myself be fooled by his kindness?
Am I being fooled by his kindness?
“Everything okay?” I look up to see Joshua’s raised brow. I must’ve looked as deep in thought as I was.
“Yeah. I, uh—Thank you… for the food, I mean.”
“You’re welcome?” he says, more like a question than a statement, and I take pleasure in the fact that he looks just as uncomfortable as I feel.
There’s a beat of awkward silence, and Joshua clears his throat. “You’ll start in the kitchen tomorrow and work every other day for lunch and dinner.”
I nod, and he continues. “I’ll come and get you at eleven, so be ready. As I said last night, you’ll be taking directions from Tripp, and whatever he says, goes. All the other men have been instructed not to talk to you so you can work in peace.”
I drop my eyes at his last statement. We both know that’s not the reason they aren’t allowed to talk to me.
“It’s better than staying in that room,” he defends.
“But just as isolated,” I whisper and shake my head. “It’s fine, I get it, whatever.” Though my tone is less than respectful, his expression remains passive.
I finish my food and stand, ready to be back in the sun.
My shoulders relax the second the sunlight hits my skin. I’m about to walk to one of the various benches when I hear my name called from behind me.
“I have a meeting, but I’ll be back to get you in a couple of hours. If you need anything or want to go back sooner, Ryder is over there,” he gestures toward the door we came through, and sure enough, Ryder stands at attention.
“Thanks.”
He smiles, and my breath catches at the sight. I’ve only seen Joshua’s genuine smile a handful of times, but I’m not sure it’s a sight you could get used to, no matter how many times you see it. His full lips tug upward, showing off perfectly straight, brilliantly white teeth.
It suits him.
Walking to a nearby bench, I lean back and will my skin to absorb as much vitamin D as possible.
It’s hard to believe it’s been so long since I’ve been in the sun—or outside at all, for that matter. It’s such a basic human right to lose. I mean, even prisons let convicts go outside.
But me?
The only crime I committed was trusting an evil man, yet here I am, trapped in a beautiful prison.
But not for long.
Between my trips here and to the kitchen, I should be able to put together some sort of escape route. In the meantime, I need to gain as much trust with Joshua as possible. Maybe then he’ll start to loosen up on his rules.
In my effort to think through every possible escape scenario, my mind spins itself into exhaustion, and I drift off to the sound of birds chirping and the feel of summer warmth on my skin.
“Morning, Princess.” A husky voice draws me from my sleep. Blinking my eyes open, I jerk up when I see Joshua standing at the end of the bench, arms crossed.
“What the hell? How long have you been standing there?” I snap, and Joshua scowls at my language. “What? Watching me sleep is creepy.”
I ignore his narrowing eyes and stand to stretch my limbs.
“I wasn’t watching you sleep. I came to take you back to your room. Besides, if you slept any longer, you’d have a hard time sleeping tonight.”
“Yeah, because I sleep so well at night,” I mumble.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head, unwilling to start a fight and risk my minimal freedoms. “I just don’t sleep well.”
I walk toward the door only to turn and find that Joshua hasn’t moved. “Aren’t we going inside?”
“Why aren’t you sleeping well?”
I curse myself for not keeping my mouth shut. Apparently, he isn’t going to let this go.
Meeting his calculating gaze, I decide to go with the simple truth. “Nightmares. Can we go now?”
Joshua’s expression is unchanging, and after a long pause, he nods.
Once we reach my room, Joshua unlocks the door and holds it open for me. There’s an anticipatory glint in his gaze that I don’t understand until I step inside.
The statues on the dresser have been replaced with various art supplies—paper, pencils, pens, coloring books, paints, canvases, and an easel.
A new table rests to the left of the bathroom door, holding a record player, and beneath it is a stack of a dozen records.
There’s a bookshelf, too, filled with modern books.
I look at the bathroom door, and sure enough, a lock has been installed.
I spin on my heels to find Joshua leaning against the door frame, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
My first instinct is to thank him, but seeing as he’s only upholding his end of the deal, I go a different route.
I point toward the empty space on the wall above the dresser. “I trust my flat screen will be installed soon?”
He rolls his eyes, but his lip quirks upward. “Goodnight, Elise.”
“Goodnight, Joshua.”