Page 51 of Death

Pulling the new toothbrush from the cup, I put some toothpaste on it, and while I brush my teeth, my thoughts turn to the man who’s been nothing but kind and patient with me.

I rinse my mouth and use a hand towel to pat it dry.

Can I trust him?

He doesn’t keep me chained.

He’s only touched me a handful of times, and it was always just to hold me while I was struggling through my turbulent emotions.

Yesterday, I attacked him, and he didn’t punish me at all. Instead, he gave me a photo of Grace.

He kneeled before me.

The sprout of hope grows a little bigger as I walk to the dressing table. I sit down, and picking up the brush, I pull the bristles through my hair.

Santiago doesn’t force me to do anything. He asks me politely.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, and not having really looked at myself in a very long time, my movements still. I’m not as skinny anymore.

The food is so much better here than the crap Nolan used to make me eat.

A knock at the door rips me out of my thoughts, and I quickly set the brush down. The door opens, and Santiago takes a step inside.

When his eyes lock on me, he asks, “Did you get any sleep?”

I nod. “I woke up a few minutes ago.”

His gaze sweeps over me, then he says, “Do you want to change your clothes, or are you ready to eat?”

I glance down at the rumpled sweater. “Uhm… I’ll change quickly.”

“Great. We’re having brunch out on the veranda.” He pulls the door shut again.

I chew the inside of my cheek, then walk to the closet. When I see all the clothes, my eyes widen, and I let out a surprised gasp. There’s everything from loungewear to jeans to formal items.

Is this all for me?

Lifting my hand, I brush my fingers over the jeans, and when I see a dress, I yank it out and shove it behind the rows of shoes. Feeling rattled, I grab a pair of jeans and another sweater, then quickly change. I also pick out a pair of sneakers and even find socks.

I quickly tuck the photo into my pocket, and when I’m ready, I walk to the door and slowly pull it open. Peeking out into the hallway, I don’t see anyone, and I quickly hurry to the stairs. Just as I reach the large foyer, a guard comes from my right, and I’m struck with an intense wave of panic and fear.

Not thinking, I break out into a run, and when I burst through the doors and out onto the veranda, my foot snags on something. Before I can fall, an arm catches me, and my head snaps up. The instant I see Santiago, the relief is so intense I cower against his chest. My breaths rush over my lips, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Hey, what happened?” he asks, his tone filled with concern.

“G-guard,” I stammer, trying to move closer to him because, so far, he’s kept me safe and been really kind.

Santiago’s arms wrap around me. “My guards won’t hurt you.”

That’s what Dad thought when he employed Nolan.

God, that’s what I thought as well. I trusted all of them to keep me safe.

I shake my head, and lifting my hand, I grip the silk shirt Santiago’s wearing. “Nolan was a guard.”

“I’ll tell all the guards to stay out of the house. Pedro is my second-in-command, and he’s happily married. He’s the only one I’ll allow to come inside. Okay?”

I nod quickly, then silence falls between us, and I become aware of the fact that when I got scared, I ran to get to Santiago. Not the trunk.