Page 9 of Her Outlaw Prisoner (Vanishing With the Rebel #1)

Eleanor

For the next two days, as I go through the motions of my job, unable to steal any more alone time with Ronan, his voice replays over and over in my head. And every night, I’m unable to sleep, remembering his whispered words to me.

I love you, Eleanor.

God.

I should’ve said it back. I should’ve opened my mouth and let it spill out like a damn flood. But I was stunned. Caught off guard. Paralyzed by how real it all felt.

I toss in bed, gripping the blanket tighter. I’ve never been in love before. Not really. What I felt for boys in college wasn’t love. What I felt when I used to daydream about being kissed under the bleachers wasn’t love.

This is different. Ronan is different.

And I love him.

It’s terrifying. It’s reckless. It’s completely insane. But it’s also true. The way I feel will never change. He has put a stamp on my soul. He has possessed me and I don’t mind a bit. I’m his.

So I make a promise to myself as I lace up my shoes and get ready for another long day— I’m going to tell him.

Today.

No fear. No hesitation. I’ll look into those icy, dangerous eyes of his and say it out loud. And then maybe, just maybe, the ache in my chest will stop gnawing at me. There might not be a future for us, but I’m content with the knowledge that we love each other. That’s enough. It has to be.

I step out of my apartment, my bag slung over my shoulder, and head toward the bus stop. The early morning air is cold and damp, clinging to my skin like something alive. And then, halfway down the block, it hits me. That feeling. The one I know too well…

The creeping chill at the back of my neck. The pressure of being watched. Followed.

I keep walking. Steady steps. Eyes forward. But my skin is crawling, and my palms are already slick with sweat. I glance over my shoulder—casual, like I’m just checking the street.

No one.

I’m still not over the fact that Pete found me so easily, that’s all.

The thought of my stepfather causes my chest to tighten painfully. I’ve realized that I never really knew him. He was just a shadow in a not-so-distant, not-so-happy past. I had so much going on that I never really got the opportunity to bond with him. After Mom got sick, it was a losing battle.

As much as Pete’s visit the other day brought some kind of nostalgia, I can’t imagine going back to that life, that house…

That’s a place and time that I’d rather didn’t exist.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to relax. Maybe it’s high time I stopped letting Daryl have so much power over me. What’s the worst that could happen? I can’t be scared of shadows for the rest of my life.

But maybe that resolution comes too soon. I hear his voice from the shadows. The familiar, chilling voice that’s jerked me out of sleep countless times.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my little sister.”

My breath catches. My heart stops, picking up again at an impossibly fast pace.

No.

Daryl steps out from between two dumpsters like he owns the damn world. Same crooked smile. Same eyes that never held any warmth. His clothes are cleaner than I expected, but his soul’s still filthy. I can see it in his empty gray eyes, so similar yet so different from Pete’s.

“What do you want?” I ask, forcing myself to stay calm.

Breathe, Eleanor. Breathe.

His grin widens. “Heard you’ve been playing nurse with a prisoner. That true?”

I swallow hard, fists curling at my sides.

He knows about Ronan? How long has he been watching me?

“You’ve got some nerve coming out here—”

“Oh, I’ve got nerve?” he interrupts, chuckling drily. “You’re the one spreading your legs for a murderer.”

I flinch.

And I hate that I do.

“You don’t know anything about him,” I snap, glaring at him. “You never cared about anyone in your life, so I don’t expect you to understand.”

“He’s dangerous, Ellie.”

I laugh. “That’s rich coming from you, Daryl. What do you want from me?”

His jaw ticks, something sharp flashing in his eyes. “Come back home, Ellie.”

“No.”

“You don’t belong out here. You’re still mine to protect. Mine to discipline.”

“I was never yours,” I hiss. “And I’m not coming with you.”

He takes a step forward, and every nerve in my body screams at me to run. But I don’t. Not this time.

I lift my chin. “You don’t scare me anymore, Daryl. I’ve survived worse than you.”

That’s when it happens.

The flash of rage. His hand swings out and collides with my cheek. Pain explodes through my face, and I stumble back with a gasp, stars clouding my vision.

He lunges. I scream.

His hand clamps over my mouth.

Things get chaotic after that. I fight his grip. God, I fight. I scratch. I kick. But he’s stronger, always has been, and this time…he’s prepared.

Something cracks against my temple.

White light. Then darkness.

I don’t know how long I’m out—minutes, maybe hours.

I wake to the smell of mildew and dust. I wince at the throbbing ache in my head. I try to massage my temples, but I realize my hands are bound.

What?

I try to sit up, but nausea rolls through me like a wave, and I collapse back onto the mattress.

No.

Wait…

The mattress…it feels familiar. I glance to the side, a soundless gasp escaping my lips as I confirm my fear. It’s the same mattress, the same old floral sheets.

He brought me back here…this house I swore I’d never return to. The walls still have the same floral wallpaper that Mom handpicked with care. The air still carries that slightly musty, slightly nostalgic smell.

It’s like stepping into a grave.

Memories slam into me hard and fast…

The nights I cried myself to sleep after Daryl played one of his cruel tricks or made another of my friends leave. The silence. The helplessness.

It’s all here. And so is he.

The door creaks open, and Daryl steps inside, carrying a bottle of water and a smug little smirk.

“Welcome home, Ellie.”

“Where’s Pete?” I ask, looking around, hoping he’ll come to save me. This one time.

Daryl scoffs. “The old man moved away after you refused to come back with him. I guess he couldn’t deal with the consequences of his choice. This house probably reminds him of his failures as a father.”

“Please…” I whimper in frustration. “I need to get to work. Just let me go.”

“No.”

I glare at him. “You can’t get away with this.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. But at least now, you’re safe.”

I let out a shrill laugh. “Safe? You kidnapped me.”

“You weren’t thinking straight,” he continues, blatantly ignoring my words even as his gaze meets mine. “That guy…he’s got you brainwashed.”

I let out a humorless scoff. “You don’t get to talk about brainwashing. You spent years making me believe I was worthless.”

His eyes narrow. “Watch your mouth.”

“Or what?” I taunt, keeping my fear out of my voice. “How much worse can you get?”

He steps closer, and I brace myself.

But he doesn’t hit me.

Not this time.

He just crouches beside the bed, his face inches from mine. “You think you’re strong now,” he whispers. “But you’re not. You never were. You’re still that scared little girl. And I’ll remind you of that if I have to.”

I stare at him, heart pounding.

I think of Ronan.

The way he looked at me like I was precious. The way he touched me like I mattered.

I’d burn this place to the ground for you.

He meant it.

And if he finds out I’m gone…he’ll come for me. I don’t know how, but something tells me he will. I just need to hold on.

“I won’t stay here,” I say, voice low. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

Daryl chuckles darkly. “Don’t tempt me.”

Then he leaves, locking the door behind him.

And I’m alone again.

But I’m not that scared little girl anymore. Not really. I know what it feels like to be wanted. I know what it’s like to be loved.

So I lie there in that suffocating room, bruised and bound and burning with fury. But I don’t plan to go down without a fight.

It’s time to make use of those self-defense moves Ronan taught me.