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CHAPTER ELEVEN

CLAIRE

I don’t know what I just agreed to, but I’m already questioning if it was the best idea. I’m now completely at this man’s mercy. The thought makes me shiver, and I’m not sure if it’s a pleasant sensation or an uncomfortable one. Maybe a mix of both.

I told myself I’d never let a man have power over me again, but I just agreed to putting my paycheck, and therefore my livelihood, in the hands of a man I met a few days ago. This decision was either very smart or very, very dumb.

Steam clouds the small bathroom as I step into the shower. I scrub my skin until it’s raw, trying to erase the feeling of Jackson’s hands on me, but I’m unable to scrub away the memory of his predatory gaze. As the water runs down my body, my thoughts spiral. Am I trading one form of captivity for another? But what choice do I have? I can’t go back to the pizza parlor, not after what happened. And living in my caragain isn’t an option, not with the winter still in full blast.

Even if it was nicer outside, I’d have a hard time giving up the comforts of a shower and a real bed. Maybe I’ll start looking for a different job in this interim of working for Mark.

After staying in the shower for entirely too long, I towel off and enjoy taking my time getting ready for bed. But even as I relax in the silence and the routine, I can’t help but wonder about what might be going on at home right now. What my younger sister Grace is going through being alone with my parents.

She’s now the only one left living in the house at seventeen years old, all of our older siblings having married and made homes of their own. Our parents likely questioned her incessantly about whether she knew my plan for leaving. She didn’t, though I desperately wanted to bring her with me. I ultimately couldn’t risk telling her my plans, but it pains me every day to think about how I left her. Her getting punished due to my transgressions would break my heart. A part of me wishes I could go back and get her, convince her to come with me, but it’s too much of a risk right now.

Maybe one day.

The next morning, I head to the kitchen in search of breakfast. The apartment is quiet, but I notice that Mark’s office door is closed. He must be working.

My assumption is confirmed when I see the half-full coffee pot on the counter. I decide to pour myself a bowl of cereal and grab an apple, still hesitant to help myself to too much, but I’m so sick of the protein bars I’d brought with me that I can hardly stand to look at them anymore.

As I settle into a chair at the small table near the window, I notice a contract sitting on the counter. Curiosity piqued, Ipick it up and start reading.

The contract details are straightforward but way too generous. Mark is offering me a job as a housekeeper, with tasks including cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, and any odd jobs that might fall under "household work." The work won’t exceed six hours per day and will likely be much less. The pay is a ridiculous amount of money, more than it should be, but it should give me a good cushion to get out of his place within three months tops.

I scan the document again, making sure there aren’t any concerning details I may have missed. This is a lifeline, a way out of the desperate situation I’ve found myself in, but it also means putting myself completely in Mark’s hands.

However, it also means more money in less time, which means a way to get my own place faster.

I take a deep breath and sign the contract, overcome with a mixture of relief and apprehension. I’ve trusted my gut with him, and so far, it hasn’t let me down. As long as things stay the way they are, this will go just fine.

I finish eating my breakfast, savoring the last few bites of the crisp apple.Well, I think,I signed the contract, so I may as well get started with cleaning now.

I’m halfway through wiping down the counters when I hear the sound of Mark’s office door opening. He steps out, looking still in his pajama pants and his hair disheveled, but he wears a smile. "Good morning."

"Good morning." The flutter of nerves in my stomach returns. "I saw the contract and signed it after reading through it a couple times. I hope that’s okay."

"Of course. I’m glad you did."

I continue wiping down the counters, taking comfort in the repetitive task. "So, what should I do during the dayotherwise if there’s nothing to clean or tasks to do?"

He shrugs, leaning against the counter. "Whatever you want."

"I don’t know what I want. That’s the problem."

He cocks an eyebrow before turning to pour himself a cup of coffee. "Well, if you were in your own apartment right now and had a steady job, what would you do with your free time?"

"I have no idea," I admit. "I’ve never had this much freedom before."

"Well, you can read more books," he suggests. "Watch movies, explore the city a bit, maybe take a class of some sort. The world is your oyster."

I perk up at the last option. "Taking a class sounds fun… Do you mean at a college, or are there other classes that I could take?"

"Anything, really. It’s a big city. If there are any hobbies you want to try, you can find classes on those. But if you want to take a college class, that’s also an option."

I’ve always wanted to go to college, but it wasn’t allowed. Now that I’m on my own, it’s an option, but…

I shake my head as the weight of reality crashes down on me. "I’m just trying to survive right now. I don’t even know how I’d get started with that whole process, and I don’t have the money for it." I also have no idea if my homeschool education was enough to prepare me for college.