I wasn’t prepared. No matter the twisted scenarios I’d envisioned in my head, none of it compared to the reality of opening that door and seeing a young woman huddled in a corner of the room with a chain shackled to one wrist.
I had to close my eyes and cover my mouth to keep from vomiting all over the floor.
Get it together, Ro. This girl needs you, and you don’t have time to fall apart.
I nodded and swallowed back the pooling saliva, then opened my eyes to confront the truth.
The old bedroom contained a metal bed with a stained mattress and a single wooden chair. Yellowing ancient wallpaper warped off the wall along the seams, and cool air drifted in from a poorly insulated dormer window. The girl was young, maybe nineteen. She’d fallen asleep with her head resting on one wall, knees pulled to her chest and arms curled around herself protectively.
I hoped she was just asleep. I couldn’t fathom the alternative.
You’d know if she was dead. She’s in rough shape, but she’s not dead.
Her long blond hair was tangled, and her pale skin was mottled with bruises. She wore a floral sundress that seemed at odds with the time of year and the situation.
The sight of her sent a jagged metal spike straight through my heart.
I took a step forward to approach, making a floorboard creak. The girl’s eyes shot open. My hands flew up in a rush to assure her I meant no harm and to hopefully keep her quiet.
She scurried to her feet and surged forward as far as the short chain would allow while a steady flow of indiscernible words fell from her chapped lips. I didn’t have to speak her language to know her meaning. She was begging for help.
God, did I want to give it, but how?
I nodded and continued to shush her, trying to convey that I understood without wasting time. The chain led into a tiny bathroom where it hooked around the porcelain toilet. I didn’t have a key to her wrist cuff, and I’d practically have to destroy the toilet to get the other end released.
Shit. Shit. What should I do? Did I go get Stetson to help me free her? Was there any chance he already knew what his father was doing?
My stomach churned all over again.
Please God, no. I didn’t want to believe him capable of allowing this sort of atrocity, but what if I was wrong? This poor girl would still be stuck, and I had no clue what that would mean for me.
Ro, you did not think this through properly.
You’re not helping!
I couldn’t risk it. What about calling the police? I could tell them anonymously that a girl was being held captive. Would that give them enough cause to search? Would they show up right away? If so, wouldn’t Stetson know that I was the one who called them? What if they only did a cursory look when Stetson told them it must have been a prank, which he undoubtedly would do whether he knew the truth or not?
I wasn’t sure what was best, and I didn’t have the time to think it through.
This is some dangerous shit, Rowan. You need to be careful.
I know, but I hate to leave her.
Just go tell Keir, then he can help you get her out safely. Getting yourself stuck along with the girl won’t do her any good.
I hated this so fucking much.
“I can’t get the chain, but I’m not leaving you, okay? I’ll come back with help. I promise.”
Two fat tears plunged down her cheeks as her entire body shook. She stared at me helplessly through wide blue eyes and whispered what sounded like a mix of pleas and prayer.
In the midst of heartbreak, inspiration struck. I took out my phone, noting a slew of missed messages and calls from Keir. I didn’t have time to text him yet. Instead, I opened the memo app and began to record, showing her what I was doing. I wasn’t entirely sure what I hoped to get—an explanation, or maybe a name? Whatever she was saying, I’d translate later.
Then it was time for the hardest part.
I started to back away, but she clamped down on my wrists.
“No, honey. Please, if I’m going to help you, I have to leave.”
Her head whipped back and forth in frantic denial. A trickle of panic swelled into a flash flood, soaking my blood in a new wave of adrenaline.
I pulled at her fingers, shaking my head just as adamantly. “You have to let me go,” I hissed with tears welling in my eyes. But she couldn’t hear me. Not through her desperation. She was a woman drowning and would use anything or anyone to keep herself afloat. If I had any chance of saving the situation, I had to act fast.
Whipping my arms around in sharp circles, I twisted her wrists enough to loosen her grip, then thrust my hands down against her hold. The second I broke free, I scurried backward. My eyes begged for her forgiveness.
“I’m so sorry, but I’ll come back for you, I promise. I promise,” I whispered hoarsely, emotion clogging my throat.
Legs giving way, she crumpled to the floor, sobbing, taking a piece of my heart with her.
“I’m so sorry,” I breathed one last time before closing the door behind me.
Each step I took away from that room was physically painful. I hated leaving her—hated it more than she could ever know—but I had to do it. Saving her was the only thing that mattered, and the only way I could be sure to accomplish that was by getting the fuck out of that house.
I placed a foot on the first step on my way back downstairs when I heard my name. Stetson was calling for me.
Goddammit, couldn’t I catch just one break?
He probably has no idea she’s up here.
What happens if he tells his dad I was wandering around, though? What then? I can’t let him see me.
Yeah, but you have to get your ass downstairs.
I know! You’re not helping.
Using every ounce of stealth I possessed, I crept down to the bottom of the stairs. Before I could take that last leap of faith and step into the hallway, sirens grew loud, stopping at the front of the house. Not two seconds later, a fist pounded on the front door down below.
“What the hell?” Stetson’s voice carried to me from the top of the main stairwell winding down to the entry.
A breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding whooshed past my lips. He was going down to answer the door, and I was free to escape. I hurried into the hall and ran to grab my things from the TV room before heading downstairs.
“Look, maybe someone got the address wrong. There’s no emergency here,” Stetson said, arms wide.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I hurried down the last few stairs. “I heard sirens, so I grabbed my things.”
A pair of firemen stood fully decked out in gear across from Stetson.
“There you are. I was just about to come look for you. These guys say a call was put in for the house, but it must have been a mistake. These things happen, you know?”
One of the firemen shrugged. “Mind if we take a quick peek around, though, just to be safe?”
“Of course not. Take your time.” Stetson smiled, totally unbothered. The sight of him so unruffled helped ease some of my worry. If he knew what was stashed on the third floor, he would have at least attempted to dissuade them.
Would they check the house that thoroughly? I had thought it was too dangerous to call the police, but now that the authorities were already here, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. But not in front of Stetson. I needed to get outside and find someone I could tell in private.
The men wandered off on their walk-through, and Stetson stepped closer.
“Where were you? I got out of the shower and couldn’t find you.”
I clutched my stomach and grimaced. “Not sure what happened, but my stomach started to cramp. I wasn’t sure if the den bathroom had been fixed, so I was using the one in the spare bedroom. Guess with the doors closed I didn’t hear you.”
His brow furrowed. “You okay?”
“I think so, but between that and our guests, I think I’m going to head home.”
“I’d offer to take you, but I need to stay here.”
“Yeah, of course,” I assured him.
He leaned down and placed a kiss on my lips. It was just like the hundreds before it, yet somehow different. I had to force myself not to flinch away from him.
What did it mean? If he was innocent of any wrongdoing, would it still change the way I viewed him? Or was this how I’d felt the whole time and never realized?
Ugh, too much uncertainty and confusion. I’d figure it out later. Right now, I needed to get to one of the firemen outside and tell them what was going on.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I flashed a thin smile and slipped out the front door.
The giant red truck still had its lights flashing out front, though the siren no longer wailed. I forced myself to walk calmly to the sidewalk then around to the back of the truck where I couldn’t be seen from inside the house.
“Excuse me!” I called to the back of a fireman. He was in the middle of talking to someone, but I didn’t care. I need help. “There’s a woman—”
I froze midsentence. When the man turned, it was Keir standing opposite him.
He surged forward and grabbed me by the wrist, hauling me away.
“What? Wait. What are you doing?” I cried, confused.
“Getting you the fuck out of here, like you should have been from the beginning. I fucking told you to stay away from that place.”
I didn’t know the man well, but I could tell Keir was furious. It was the first real sign of emotion I’d seen from him. I had a feeling displays like this were a rare occurrence.
Stumbling, I did my best to keep up with his long strides until we reached his car. He opened the door and tried to shove me inside.
I yanked from his grasp. “Wait! Listen for just a second.” I locked my legs straight and refused to be shoved in the car. “I found her,” I hissed, swatting his hands away. “Lawrence Wellington does have a woman captive in his house. She’s chained to the fucking toilet, Keir. We have to get her out of there.”
His eyes blazed. “We don’t have to do a goddamn thing. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I was thinking about saving a woman’s life.”
“And risking yours while you were at it.”
Then it hit me. I peered over my shoulder at the fire truck. “You did this? You called them here to get me out?” I’d been so caught up in thoughts of the poor girl upstairs, I hadn’t even pondered the coincidence of a surprise visit by the fire department.
“You think I was just going to wait and see if you texted?” Each word was a savage growl. “Fuck no. Better … better to …” He closed his eyes and took a long even breath. “Better to get you out and ask questions later,” he finally said in a slow, even tone as though every ounce of emotion had dried up with his long breath. “And we are not going to tell those men shit. You do not rat on a man as powerful as Lawrence Wellington. Not without a plan.”
He raised his hand as if to cup my cheek, but instead, his thumb tugged on my bottom lip before drifting down until his large hand cuffed my throat. “If we do this, we do it my way.” His grated words were as abrasive as the asphalt under our feet.
I couldn’t breathe, and it had nothing to do with the pressure his hand inflicted. Keir was simply that consuming. Being near him was like dancing on the edge of a black hole—dizzying and mystifying and potentially world-ending.
“Show me you understand, Rowan.”
It was the first time I’d heard my name on his lips, and I was instantly addicted. I was ashamed to think what I would give to hear him say it again. My promise to him felt like a simple price.
Eyes locked with his, I nodded.
He gave a rumble of masculine approval. “Good, now get in. I’m taking you home.”
