29. Elle
29
ELLE
I spent most of Monday bawling my eyes out and having panic attacks that I was missing the first day of exam week. On Tuesday, I threatened to end Tristan and tried to attack him with my dinner utensils again. Wednesday, I was back on my knees, begging and pleading with him to let me go. But by the time Thursday rolled around, I had found a strange sort of calm.
And now, as I lie on the bed and stare up at the ceiling while I wait for the hours to turn Friday afternoon into Friday evening, I feel almost at peace. All my life, I have tried to control everything around me so that I can maintain my perfect fa?ade. But now, I have come to accept that there are certain things that I can’t control. And if I can’t control them anyway, what good is panicking about them going to do? It still won’t change anything.
I’ve missed the entire first exam week, which means that I will be expelled. But John also said that he can protect me from that, so there is no point getting stressed out about it. Tristan will release me as soon as he gets home from his final exam today, just like he promised several times, and then I will go back to my dorm room and call John. And he will fix this. Nothing to worry about. Everything will be fine.
Rolling over on my side, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and sit up. Then I run my fingers through my hair and stretch my arms over my head. My entire body feels calm and relaxed.
To be honest, this week has almost felt like a little vacation. I’ve been able to sleep in and catch up on weeks of rest. Food has been made for me and simply delivered to me. And most importantly, I haven’t had to spend every waking hour keeping up my perfect public image. I’ve been able to set the mask aside and simply exist, without having to be someone. It’s been incredibly freeing.
But I will never, ever , admit any of that to Tristan.
With a sigh, I stand up and start towards the bathroom. The chain rattles faintly behind me as I walk. I glance down at my ankle.
I had expected the metal to start chafing. But when I actually took the time to sit down and study the manacle, I realized that it was padded in order to prevent that exact thing. It took me a little by surprise.
For someone who hates me enough to kidnap me and lock me up, he has also spent an awful lot of time thinking about small details like that. Making sure the manacle doesn’t hurt me. Getting me a toothbrush and toiletries. Bringing me new clothes to wear. Making sure I’m eating enough.
Stopping in front of the sink, I brace my hands on the cool surface and stare at myself in the mirror. I heave another sigh. Apparently, I look as confused as I feel.
I don’t know what to make of Tristan anymore.
One part of me hates him, and I mean truly despises him, for what he’s doing to me right now. Messing with my education and potentially ruining my future is unforgivable.
But at the same time, I understand him. Because I did the same thing to him. No. In fact, I did worse to him.
Even if I’m kicked out of Bercester U, there is nothing stopping me from simply applying to a different university next year. I could still salvage my future. I would just have some undesirable gaps in my resume and a degree from a less prestigious university.
Tristan, however, lost everything when he lost his scholarship. He couldn’t just apply to another school. That was his one shot at getting out of our hometown and building a better life for himself.
And I ruined it for him.
Curling my fingers around the edge of the sink, I grip it hard as another wave of guilt and regret washes over me.
God, I never thought that my words would have such huge and irreversible consequences.
The police officers just asked if I had seen anyone, and since my dad has always drilled into me that I need to have an impeccable moral compass, I simply told the truth. I didn’t even consider what it might do to Tristan.
And when he was arrested, I thought nothing more of it. I simply assumed that he had stolen the equipment to sell it. After all, everyone knew that his family was poor. I had no idea that he stole it just because he was desperate to study and to keep his grades up.
I thought it was a simple act of petty thievery that he learnt his lesson from with a few weeks of community service. Nothing else.
But that seems to be the problem, doesn’t it?
I’ve never really thought about anyone else. My entire life, I have been so consumed by the constant pressure to always be perfect in every way, that I have never stopped to think that maybe other people have been dealing with similar hardships. Just because the pressure that I’ve been under has felt so overwhelming, I’ve kind of just assumed that I’m the only one who is struggling. That everyone else has it easier.
Letting out a humorless laugh, I shake my head at myself in the mirror.
Gosh, I’m such a fool.
Turning on the tap, I splash water over my face to help clear my head.
Right as I finish drying my face again, the sound of the door being opened comes from out in the bedroom. I hang the towel back on its hook and then walk back out.
Tristan is standing there in the middle of the room, his arms crossed over his chest and his sharp eyes locked on me.
For a while, no one says anything.
I just stand there on the floor, watching him in the crackling silence.
My heart flutters.
This is the second thing that confuses me about my feelings towards Tristan.
I feel irrevocably drawn to him.
Not only does he make me feel free, because I never have to pretend with him, but my body also craves his touch.
It’s confusing, and a recipe for disaster. And something that I need to avoid at all costs from here on out.
“How did it go?” I ask.
He frowns at me.
“Your exams,” I clarify. “How did it go?”
Suspicion blows across his features, and he narrows his eyes at me. I just keep looking back at him. When he realizes that I’m genuinely wondering, he looks surprised for a second. But he recovers quickly and wipes the expression off his face.
“It went well,” he answers with a shrug. Then he nods towards the manacle around my ankle. “Are you going to try to attack me again when I take that off?”
Relief surges through me. He actually is going to keep his word and let me go.
Holding his gaze, I reply, “No.”
He seems to consider for a while. Then he finally nods. Uncrossing his arms, he starts towards me while slipping a hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a key. I remain where I am, watching him.
The very air between us feels charged with electricity. I suppress the urge to hold my breath as he stops in front of me.
For a few seconds, he just stands there, looking down at me.
When he’s this close, his intoxicating scent wraps around me and makes my head spin all over again.
My heart patters in my chest.
Then he drops to a knee.
I start in surprise, even though in hindsight, I knew that there was no other logical way for him to unlock the manacle. But still, seeing him on one knee before me makes heat sear through my veins and a strange giddiness bubble through me.
And before I can stop myself, I let out a small laugh and say, “If I had known that it would end with you on your knees in front of me, I would’ve let you kidnap me much sooner.”
Surprise flits across his face as he flicks his gaze up to me, and it looks like he’s about to laugh. But then he apparently remembers himself and quickly wipes the amusement off his features. Instead, he arches a dark brow and levels a pointed stare at me.
“I could always leave it on,” he threatens, pausing with the key halfway to the lock.
Even though I’m pretty sure that it’s an empty threat, I’m not about to risk it now, so I give him what he wants.
Dropping my gaze, I quickly reply, “No. I’m sorry.”
He keeps watching me, as if to make sure that I understand that he still holds all the power. Apparently satisfied, he finally inserts the key and unlocks the manacle.
I suck in a breath of relief as it falls away.
Tristan gets to his feet. But he doesn’t step back. Instead, he remains there, looming over me from only a step away.
“If you try to get me arrested for this, you will fail,” he says. “There is no proof beyond your own word. This is a house with six bedrooms. Five of them are upstairs. This is the sixth one. Currently unused but still furnished. You won’t be able to prove that I used it to keep you here.”
I look up to meet his gaze. “I know. And I wasn’t planning to report you.”
Suspicion and confusion drift across his features, and he narrows his eyes at me. But then he simply moves on. “You’ll be expelled now. Which means that after you leave here today, I will never have to lay eyes on you again.” Threats creep into his voice. “Make sure it stays that way.”
I say nothing, simply continue holding his gaze.
He stares back at me.
The tension between us is so thick that I could’ve cut it with a knife.
At last, Tristan jerks his chin towards the door.
After holding his hard stare for another second, I start towards the door without another word. But when I reach it, I pause and look back at him. He’s watching me with an unreadable expression on his face.
“I really am sorry,” I say.
And then I slip out the door. My purse with my phone and keys and everything else I brought to the party is waiting for me there on the first step outside the door. I snatch it up and then quickly make my way out of the house. No one stops me.
The moment I’m back in my dorm room, I lock the door firmly behind me and slump back against it. My heart pounds in my chest.
I’m free again. But for some reason, I feel more trapped than ever now.
Because now, I need to deal with the fallout.
Pulling out my phone, I quickly plug in the charger and sit down on my bed. Then I turn it on and call John Smith.
He answers quickly, but he sounds less than pleased.
“Firstly, you should only text me. Not call me,” he says by way of greeting. His tone is curt. “And secondly, where the hell have you been?”
Irritation crackles through me like bolts of white lightning. Grinding my teeth, I tighten my grip on the phone so hard that the charger cable still attached to it sways.
“Firstly, I figured that this was a conversation best had over the phone instead of sending a billion texts back and forth,” I retort, the annoyance in my voice barely hidden. “And secondly, Tristan kidnapped me and locked me up in his house.”
Shocked silence falls on the other end of the line.
Then John at last presses out, “What?”
“This week was the first exam week. If I miss it, I will get expelled. Which is exactly why he kidnapped me and locked me up. And now, I’ve missed it. So in the next few hours, I will be getting a notification that I have been expelled.”
“Uhm… Alright.”
“What do you mean ‘alright’?” I snap.
“Calm down. I’m just processing what you said.” He’s silent for a few seconds. Then he says, “He actually kidnapped you and locked you in his house?”
“Yes.”
“That’s… messed up.”
“Agreed.”
“Are you going to press charges?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I won’t be able to prove that he did it.” Impatience streaks through me. “Look, can we focus on the problem at hand? I’m about to get expelled. Can you do something or not?”
“Watch that tone,” he replies, his voice darkening with anger.
I wince. Being rude to the only person who can help me right now is a really dumb move.
Softening my voice, I add, “Sorry.”
“Yeah.” He heaves a deep sigh. “Look, this is supposed to be a mutually beneficial arrangement. But so far, you’ve given me nothing.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder.”
I squeeze the phone in my hand again but say nothing.
He blows out another long sigh. “Alright, here’s what I can do. I’ll text you the contact information of a doctor who can write a note that you had some contagious disease this week which made you unable to go outside for risk of spreading it. But you’ll have to talk to him and pay him off on your own. All I can do is to give you the contact information. Got it?”
“Yes, got it. Thank you.”
“Uh-huh. But now, you really need to give me something. You’re not the only one who has strict deadlines.” He sounds stressed. And exhausted. “Get me some results.”
Then, before I can reply, he hangs up.
Lowering the phone, I stare at it as the call ends and my home screen comes back into view.
Uneasiness slithers through my stomach like cold snakes. I suddenly don’t like the idea of spying on Tristan for this stranger. But at the same time, I need his protection more than ever now. Because once Tristan realizes that I was in fact not kicked out, he’s going to come at me so hard that there will be nothing left of me if I don’t have some kind of shield. But still. I don’t like it.
However, I push that feeling aside and block out everything else too as I steel myself. Because now, I have to do something else. Something worse than calling John Smith.
I have to call my parents and tell them that I missed exam week.