Chapter Twenty-Two
Romy
M y head throbs when I open my eyes, the light making it hurt worse. All my muscles in my body ache and I wonder if my hike through the snow has anything to do with hit.
Or…
It reminds me of the day after the first time I was drugged.
Sure enough, I can feel a bruising pain on the outside of my arm. Injection site. This hangover-type feeling is the aftereffect of being drugged.
Overwhelming anger at my situation has tears burning my eyes. Rather than forcing my eyes open to take in my surroundings, knowing it’ll make my head pound worse, I attempt to remember last night.
I came back to Caius being a prick. Then I packed like he demanded. After that, when unable to focus on my new puzzle, I’d crawled into bed and fallen asleep early. Vaguely, I remember Caius joining me in bed, his body coming close to mine. I’d pretended to still be asleep, curious to see what he’d do. Instead of his hand caressing me, I felt a pinch on my arm. And then…nothing. Until now.
Fury chases away my helplessness and I force my eyes open. Warm yellow light makes me cringe. I shade my eyes with my hand. In front of me, Gareth watches with a crooked smile. Sadistic asshole.
I sit up in my seat—yes, a leather chair—and take note of the tubular room. Not a room. Airplane. Whipping my head to the left and immediately regretting it when the throbbing intensifies, I see Caius deep in concentration as he types on a laptop. His dark hair is perfectly styled, not a hair out of place, and he’s dressed impeccably in a well-fitted navy suit.
I want to strangle him with his baby blue tie.
“You…” I croak out. “You…drugged…me.”
Caius’s typing halts and he cuts his eyes my way. Then he lifts his hand. A woman in a crisp uniform hurries over to us. “A water for my love.”
Gareth stifles a laugh. I want to also choke him with Caius’s tie once I’m done with his brother.
“I’m…not…” I give up the argument. Until I have some water on my parched throat, I’ll struggle to speak.
The stewardess hands me a bottle of water, wearing a polite smile. Then she disappears to wherever Caius summoned her from. I unscrew the lid and guzzle the whole bottle without stopping once. An unladylike burp follows after, and I’m satisfied when Caius’s lip curls up slightly.
Good.
I’m not the only one feeling displeasure in this moment.
“Why?” I demand, voice not as raspy.
“It’s called efficiency,” Caius says absently, attention back on his laptop. “We didn’t have time for stalling. There was a brief reprieve from the storm, and if we didn’t leave when we did, we would have missed the yacht’s departure.”
Rather than dignifying him with a response, I unbuckle and rise from my seat. The plane vibrates as it cruises along. I see a sign for the bathroom and make my way over to it. We’re the only three people here aside from the flight attendant and the pilots. The isolation continues. Once I’ve safely locked myself in the bathroom, I stare at my reflection. My hair is down and messy. I’m unnerved to discover I’m in completely different clothes than I wore yesterday.
He changed my clothes.
It should feel like a violation, but we’ve already bumped uglies, or at least rubbed them together, so it’s certainly not anything he hasn’t seen or touched before. Heat floods south and I growl in frustration. I hate Caius Crowne. Deeply.
After relieving myself and discovering I’m wearing new, silky black panties that he no doubt put on me, I wash up and then splash cold water on my face to cool off the shame or desire or anger. I’m still unsure which one is winning the inner battle.
Breathe, Romy.
Get control over your emotions.
You can’t think when you’re a mess.
I inspect the injection site. Indeed, a purple bruise forms on my pale flesh. One day I’m going to find his drug stash and paybacks are going to be hell for the eldest Crowne. Images of stabbing him with one of his own needles or cramming unknown drugs down his throat bring a satisfying smirk to my face. A girl can dream.
Now that I’ve regrouped, I lift my chin and leave the bathroom. I catch the tail end of something Gareth is saying.
“…think it’s strange Solomon invited us? We aren’t usually allowed to play in his sandbox.”
When Gareth sees me, his lips press together, cutting off whatever else he was going to say. Caius looks over his shoulder at me and then holds up a hair tie.
“Do something about that before we land,” he says, voice cold. “We should be there soon.”
Gritting my teeth, I make my way over to him and snatch it from his grip. He watches me with an arched eyebrow as I angrily pull my hair back. Rather than sitting beside him or Gareth, for that matter, I choose a seat closer to the cockpit. The same woman from before appears with a small tray of snacks.
“Thanks,” I say to her, withholding the urge to snap at her for no good reason other than I hate Caius.
My pockets are empty, and I wonder where my phone is. I refuse to ask Caius, instead opting to gorge myself on dried cranberries, sharp cheddar cheese cubes, chocolate-covered peanuts, and miniature pretzels. The stewardess brings me a glass of wine this time that earns a smile from me.
Seconds later, Caius takes the seat next to me and offers me my phone. How does he always seem to know what I’m thinking? I snatch it from him and check the only message, which is from Theo.
Theo: Have fun on your trip. I wish I could have gone too.
“He’s too reckless to go,” Caius says after reading the text. “I can’t have him mess this up for me.”
It’s almost as if Caius is looking forward to this trip with Solomon the creep.
“Why do you want it to be a success?” I ask as I hold up my empty glass to show the woman I need more.
He doesn’t reply at first and then murmurs, “I’ve been trying to earn Solomon’s trust for quite some time now. I think he knows one day I’ll take over for my father, hence the olive branch being offered my way.”
“He’s a bad guy, though,” I mutter, remembering the callous way he handled the body of that girl.
Caius stiffens almost imperceptibly. “Aren’t we all? It’s the company we Crownes keep.”
Do I hear a hint of sarcasm?
Is it because I call them all monsters and he’s confirming he’s one?
“At least prepare me on what to expect,” I say in exasperation. “You say Theo is too reckless, yet you’re bringing me—your captive who wants nothing more than to escape.”
Caius places his hand on my thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze that sends buzzing electricity through me. “Not captive. Girlfriend. Remember?”
“Your constant gaslighting is exhausting,” I say with a yawn. “Tell me. I don’t want to find myself in that creep’s clutches. You saw the way he looked at me.”
I note that Caius doesn’t remove his hand from my leg. I wonder why I don’t fling it off. It’s offering a modicum of comfort as my anxiety spikes the closer we get to our destination.
“As long as you stay near me or in your room, you’ll be fine.”
“How can you be sure I’ll play along?” I ask, meeting his gaze. “What if I tell everyone you’ve taken me?”
He leans closer, so close his nose nearly brushes mine and I can smell a hint of bourbon on his lips. “There are far worse monsters than me, little girl, and many will be on that yacht with us.”
I shiver at his insinuation. Not that I didn’t know this already. It sucks having it confirmed, though.
“How about this,” he says, dark eyes boring into me. “If you play along, I’ll finally give you something you desperately want.” He drops his gaze to my mouth and his lips quirk almost as if he might break into a grin. He doesn’t. “Something you really, really want.”
There are a lot of things I want but kissing him isn’t one of them.
“Megan,” I rush out. “I want to speak to Megan.”
His face remains impassive, so he must’ve anticipated that request. “Deal.”
I blink at him, shocked at his easy agreement. “Really?”
“Really.”
I don’t sense he’s lying. “When?”
He leans back and accepts new drinks from the woman, a glass of dark liquor for himself and wine for me. After handing me my glass, he finally answers my question.
“Let’s see how you do first. The moment we step off this plane, you’re in love with me. Understood? None of this bickering and arguing. Game face on, little girl.”
I’m really going to get to speak to Megan.
This is finally happening.
I just have to put on a convincing show.
He downs his glass in one gulp before setting it in his cupholder. Then he leans close to me again, stretching his arm over the back of my seat. His familiar scent tickles my nose.
“It’s imperative you don’t go off exploring like you did last night,” he murmurs close to my ear, a warning lacing his tone. “Like I said. With me or in our room. At all times.”
“Or with your brother?” I ask, testing his loyalty.
Instead of answering the question, he says, “Did I stutter?”
I want to elbow him in the gut for being such a prick, but the pilot comes on the speaker, asking us to strap in for our descent. Turning from Caius’s off-putting nearness, I stare out the round window into the gray clouds. Like the dutiful pretend boyfriend he is, he buckles me in, making sure to tighten the strap across my lap before doing the same for himself. If he can dress me and choose which panties I wear, I guess he can buckle my seat belt.
For the first time since I’ve been here, I actually feel hopeful. I’m going to talk to Megan. That means she’s alive and well. I’ll get answers from her. Maybe she’s somewhere safe and all I’ll need to do is worry about getting myself out of Caius’s grasp.
My stomach flips as we begin losing altitude. I get lost in watching the snow-covered homes, buildings, and trees come into view. It’s a dreary, blistery day in Pennsylvania.
The next hour goes by in a blur of landing, departing, and climbing into a rental vehicle. While we drive from the airport to the marina, I text back and forth with Theo.
Me: Just landed. Gloomy here.
Theo: Blizzard here. FML.
Me: Maybe you should go make a snowman with Kaitlyn. Will you keep an eye on her for me?
Theo: Did you get to meet her last night?
Me: Nah. I was essentially threatened for possibly taking her away from her daddy.
Theo: He’s very protective over his kids.
Kids?
Me: He has more?
Theo: Did. Emma died last year.
What the actual hell?
Me: How? How old was she? What happened?
Theo: They’re probably reading our texts. We can talk when you get back.
My mind reels for a couple of reasons. For one, he’s confirmed what I already know. The phone they’ve given me is being tracked and watched. Secondly, Gareth had another daughter who died. Was she adopted too?
I glance up from my phone to see Gareth watching me over his shoulder from the row in front of me. Chills of fear race through me, but I refuse to let it show. Forcing a fake smile at him, I go back to texting.
Me: Just promise me you’ll check in on her. Please. I’ll owe you one.
Theo: Yeah, babe. I got you.
Caius’s hand covers my phone and then he plucks it from my grip. He tucks it into his inside jacket pocket before threading his fingers with mine as the vehicle slows to a stop. “It’s time, little girl. Game face on.”
We’re here.
I can do this.