Page 85 of Freeing Denver

My laugh is brittle. “Right.”

“He would,” she says quietly. “Kitrick is a good man.”

“Kitrick killed Chris,” I say. “And he threatened to assault me not long ago.”

She shakes her head slowly, her eyes wide and doe like. “Don’t believe everything?—”

Footsteps silence her and she darts back to her position, lowering her head and holding her hands behind her back as Eli strides into the room.

“Good morning, my songbird,” Eli says brightly, sitting in his usual chair. “You look beautiful. Have you learned your lesson?”

I try not to stare at the housekeeper and instead address him. “Yes … I’m sorry. For hurting you.”

Eli’s smile seems almost real. It’s frightening how easily he can slip from hot to cold. “Apology accepted. I can’t stay mad at the mother of my child, can I?”

It takes monumental self-control not to stab him in the throat. If I thought I’d make it out of this house alive, I’d do it.

“So,” Eli says, “are you excited to see the baby?”

“We’re … we’re still going?”

“Of course! I’m just as excited as you are.” He reaches for my hand and kisses my knuckles, his lips lingering. “And we can discuss payment later.”

I’m about to ask what payment he means when Kitrick’s voice interrupts us.

“What time should I get the car ready for?”

Eli releases my hand. “Twenty minutes. Robin is going to change into something prettier for our first outing.”

My mind is on Colt as I get ready. I think about his smile as I change my clothes, his laugh when I slip on my shoes, his touch as I leave my room. Eli is at the bottom of the stairs in his usual three-piece suit, his gold pocket watch resting against his broad chest. He doesn’t say anything as we head out to the garage. The doors are still closed, but for the first time in weeks, I’m about to be outside.

The car door is open, and I grip it, dizziness sweeping over me. My vision blurs and my knees dip, and a strong hand grips my elbow, keeping me upright.

Slowly lifting my head, I meet Kitrick’s sharp gaze.

He quickly moves his hand away and jerks his chin at the car. “In.”

I do as he says.

Any other day, I’d analyze the interaction, but I’m too distracted by the garage doors opening. The car windows are blacked out, but I can see blue skies through the windscreen, and I can’t help the tears burning my eyes.

Sunlight fills the car as we leave the garage, and I cover my mouth with my hand as I watch the world beyond my window.

I’m outside.

Fluffy clouds are dotted across a clear sky, and we’re surrounded by emerald grass that stretches until it reachesmetal fences flanked by men. We stop as the gates open, and we’re waved through.

I rest my hand on my belly.

“We’re outside, bug,” I whisper.

Outside. Closer to freedom.

Even if it’s just for a little while.

But my happiness is tainted. Broken. Shattered. When I realize where I am. Where I’ve been for weeks.

New York.