Chapter 8
Everleigh
Guilt is one of those emotions that feeds on itself.
Over time, it will become bigger and heavier, and eventually, it will start to weigh on you.
When the load gets to be too much to bear, you’ll do just about anything to get rid of it—even if it means apologizing when you had nothing to apologize for.
I’d spent the better part of the night thinking about my disagreement with Billy. The more I thought about it, the more I worried that I might’ve been out of line. I was so busy being mad that I hadn’t actually considered why he’d locked the door in the first place.
It wasn’t until I actually took the time to think about it that I considered the fact that he knew nothing about me.
He didn’t know if he could trust me not to snoop and pilfer through his things, so it wasn’t that inconceivable that he chose to play it safe and lock me in my room.
It was this realization that had me feeling a little guilty about the fact that I’d lashed out at him.
That guilt ate at me all night, and by morning, I knew I had to do something.
Billy had helped me into the living room and was in the kitchen making us both some coffee when I said, “I wanted to apologize for last night.”
I wasn’t even sure he’d heard my apology until he eventually replied, “Not necessary.”
"Yeah, it is.” I was sincere as I told him, “I overreacted, and I’m sorry.”
“Hmmm.” He didn’t even look at me as he brought a cup of coffee over and placed it on the coffee table next to me. He moved the TV remote closer to me, then walked back into the kitchen as he announced, “I have some work I need to take care of. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
“Oh, okay.”
He studied me for a moment, then turned and walked out of the house.
And just like that, Billy left me alone once again.
I had no idea if he was mad and wanted to get the hell away from me or if he really did have work he needed to take care of.
He was just so damn hard to read, and I had a feeling that it didn’t matter how well I got to know him.
It would always be like that with him, and I had no idea what to do about it.
The men in my life had always been pretty straightforward.
Even when it wasn’t in his best interest, my dad always said what was on his mind, and Bobby, my ex-fiancé, always did the same.
I certainly never had to question what was on Antonio DeLuca’s mind.
Good, bad, or ugly, it was always written all over his face.
The same held true for Matteo.
It was pretty easy for him, though. The boy only had three emotions—angry, worried, or ecstatic, and I could tell just by looking at his adorable face exactly what he was feeling. A smile swept across my face when I thought back to the day he came to my door with a goofy grin on his face.
Before I could ask what had him so happy, Carlos came up behind him, and Matteo’s smile immediately vanished.
His back stiffened, and he went back to his usual detached demeanor.
Neither of them spoke as they led me down to DeLuca’s office and over to my desk.
Once I was settled, they both assumed their position by Deluca’s door.
I was dying to ask him what was going on, but I wouldn’t dare do anything so stupid.
Matteo was my one and only ally in this hell hole, and if I even looked in his direction, I could lose him.
All it would take was DeLuca becoming suspicious, and he’d either kill him or fire him, and I couldn’t let that happen.
So, I did the only thing I could. I did my work and waited for my opportunity to talk to Matteo.
Unfortunately, that opportunity didn’t come until the very end of the day when Matteo was ordered to return me to my room.
I played it cool and didn’t even look at him as I started out of the room.
He followed behind, and once we were out of earshot, he whispered, “I did it.”
“You did?”
“Yep, I bought the house,” he answered proudly.
“That’s awesome, Matteo.”
Matteo was a smart guy. He’d been eavesdropping on my conversations with DeLuca and had picked up on some of the things I’d tried to teach him. He used those lessons to buy and sell stock at the prime time, which had made him quite a little nest egg.
I could hear the optimism in his voice as he said, “Now, I just have to ask Chloe to marry me and pray that she says yes.”
“I’m sure she will.” I didn’t want to take the chance of being seen on the security camera, so I kept looking straight ahead as I whispered, “She’d be crazy not to.”
“I hope you’re right 'cause if she says yes, I’ll have everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“I wish you could find a way out of here. You’re too good for this place.”
His chipper tone quickly faded as he grumbled, “Not gonna happen. I’m stuck here. That’ll never change.”
“No one knows what the future holds.”
I walked into my room and waited for him to respond, but all I got was the click of the door closing behind me.
A response wasn’t necessary, however. I knew he was upset.
He was upset for the same reason I had been for almost five years.
He was DeLuca’s prisoner, and he would remain his prisoner until the day he took his last breath.
That was something I learned the day I ended up with three gunshot wounds to the back. It was a thought that turned my happy memory into a bad one. I was on the verge of tears when I heard Billy ask, “You okay?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you okay?” Billy asked as he rushed over to the sofa. “Are you hurting?”
“No, I’m not hurting. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I can get some more of the pain meds Doc left for you.”
“No, that’s not necessary. Really, I’m fine.”
“Okay, then how about a bite to eat or some more coffee?”
“Could we just talk for a minute?” His eyes narrowed, making me worried he might refuse, so I quickly added, “It won’t take long. I just have a few questions.”
“You have questions I can’t answer.”
“How do you know? I haven’t asked them yet.”
“Because I would be asking the same damn thing if I were in your shoes.” He walked over and sat down at the end of the sofa.
“But I can’t tell you how I found you because knowing that would put us both in danger.
And I can’t tell you why I saved your life because I don’t know why I did it.
I just know I couldn’t let you lay there and die. ”
“I’m really glad you didn’t.”
“Me, too.” He ran his hand through his thick hair as he grumbled. “Now, I just have to figure out how I’m going to keep you alive.”
“What are you talking about?”
The air rushed out of my lungs when he answered, “You don’t really think you can just go back to your old life, and everything will be like it was, do you?”
“I... um.”
My stomach twisted into a crippling knot. I’d been so focused on my present that I hadn’t really considered what my future might hold, but now that he’d brought it up, I could see that he was right.
If he found out I was alive, DeLuca would have me killed.
Not only would he kill me, but if he thought someone had helped me or if I talked to someone, he’d kill them, too.
I was no longer in his house, but I still wasn’t free.
I would never be free. No matter where I went or what I did, I would always be his prisoner.
It was a thought that brought more tears to my eyes. I looked over to Billy and shook my head as I said, “I just don’t get it. Why did you bother saving me? I was better off dead.”
“Don’t say that,” he snapped. “We will figure this thing out. It’s just going to take some time.”
“I’ve already lost too much time because of him.”
“I’m well aware of that, and if I could get that time back for you, I would.” His eyes remained fixed on mine as he promised, “But I can make sure he doesn’t take any more from you. I just need you to trust me to handle it.”
“Handle it how?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out,” he responded. I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he was holding back, and I still didn’t know why. “You never really told me about the work you did for Antonio, but if I had to guess, I’d say it wasn’t good.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Then, we can’t take any unnecessary chances.”
I already knew the answer, but I still asked, “You really think if he finds out I’m alive, he will come and finish what he started?”
“I don’t think it. I know it,” he answered with no emotion. “But I’m not going to let that happen.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re doing all this, but I want to thank you.”
I reached over to place my hand on his arm—just a simple gesture of gratitude, but the second I touched him, Billy inhaled a quick breath, pulled his arm back, and stood up from the sofa. He took a step back, putting some distance between us as he placed his hand on the spot where mine had been.
I watched as he rubbed it tenderly like my touch had wounded him in some way, and it was impossible not to be somewhat hurt by his reaction.
I was no beauty queen. I’d always been a little on the thicker side, and the thin white t-shirt and baggy, gray sweats weren’t doing me any favors.
Neither was my wild, curly, blonde hair.
I was quite a sight. I couldn’t exactly blame Billy for being revolted by my dreadful presence and wrenching his hand back. I told myself that I shouldn’t care what he thought. He was simply the man who was helping me and nothing more—but I did care. I cared more than I wanted to admit.
It took me a moment, but I was finally able to swallow the hurt and say, “I didn’t mean to overstep. I just really appreciate all you’re doing to help me.”
“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to.”
“I appreciate it all the same.”
He nodded, then made his way over to the fridge. As he looked inside, he asked, “You hungry? I’ve got eggs and toast or some oatmeal.”
“Either would be fine.”
“You sure?”
“Hm-hmm. I’m not all that hungry.”
“Eggs it is.”