Page 18

Cara

Pushing open the door, I peep outside the bedroom, clutching the key in my hand.

Max was so distracted earlier, he hardly noticed me grabbing the key from his pocket when I saw it glinting there as he dropped off my breakfast.

I don’t know what I am planning to do with this freedom, exactly. But when I heard the shower running, I figured that now is my best chance to make use of it. I need to do something, even if I am not entirely sure what that something is.

Or what I am trying to get from it.

Proof, maybe. Proof that what he said to me was true.

Or space away from that tiny cage of a bedroom.

I have no idea. I don’t believe what he said about my father, at least, not entirely.

Yes, my father is involved in the criminal world, but that doesn’t mean that he’s some kind of monster utterly consumed by his need to hurt and control people.

I have no doubt that’s what Max’s father has said to him, just to try and convince him that all of this is right.

Despite everything that has happened, I don’t think Max is a bad person.

I don’t think he’s cruel, or that he would kidnap someone on their wedding day unless he had a very good reason to.

I glance around the living room, and my eyes land on the kitchen counter where his phone is sitting.

I can’t believe my good luck! I stare at the device as if it’s a trap.

I don’t want to get Max into any trouble, but I also don’t want to stay here.

My heart skips a beat in my chest. I don’t know who I’ll call, and I don’t know if it will trigger some kind of alarm, but I have to try and make the most of this opportunity.

I dive towards the phone and grab it. A call has been recently logged on the phone from an unknown number.

I hover my finger over it for a moment. Who could it be?

One of his men, most likely, maybe family.

I heard him talking to someone a few moments ago.

Though, even with my ear pressed to the door, I couldn't make out who it was.

Before I can find some way to talk myself out of this, I click the number and call it back.

I listen as it rings a few times, glancing towards the shower door, wondering what he will do if he comes out and sees me like this.

I can still remember the rage and fury in his voice when he caught me after that escape, and the thought of bringing that down on my head all over again is not pleasant.

Suddenly, the call is answered. I swallow hard. I don’t know what to say. Before I can talk myself out of it, I blurt something out.

"It’s me. It’s Cara Leone!”

My voice cracks as I say my name. I hadn’t realized how hard it was for me to call myself by that last name in a situation like this.

I am part of that family, my father’s daughter, and no matter how unsure I might be about holding that position, I have to acknowledge my heritage, who I am.

Even if it means associating myself with the things Max accused my dad of.

"Cara?”

A voice replies in shock—not my father, but someone who knows me, at least. My body tenses.

"Yes, it’s me!”

"Stay on the line," the man orders, as I hear him rustling around on the other side of the call. "We’re going to track your location..."

The moment he says that, for a split second, I want nothing more than to hang up the phone and pretend like I never made this call.

Because if they find me, if they find us, I know what is going to happen to Max. I know what my father does to people who fuck him over, even in the most distant, abstract sense, and Max put hands on me, his daughter. Even if it’s just to prove a point, my dad has to do something about that.

My hand trembles and I stay on the call.

I have to get back to my father. It’s the only way I am going to be able to find out if what Max said to me is true.

And if I can reason with him, maybe I can find some way to keep Max alive, too, or, at least, to protect him from the worst of my father’s wrath.

If I tell my dad that Max’s been brainwashed to believe he’s into sex trafficking, maybe he won’t wipe him off the face of the earth because of what he’s done.

"There," the man replies, finally. "Done. You’ll be out of there soon, alright, Cara?"

"Okay," I whisper back, my voice hitching once more.

Is this a bad idea? It doesn’t matter. Whatever doubts I might have had, they are behind me now. I have acted. I’ve done it. I’ve connected with my father’s men, and they are going to find me, and then...

And then, whatever comes next, I will be entirely responsible for.

I realize with a start that the shower has stopped running. Panic stabs my chest as I put the phone down as quietly as I can, trying to remember what angle it was sitting when I came in.

I chew my lip, but I don’t have time to question it any further.

I dart back towards my room, diving past the door and pulling it shut so that the lock clicks into place behind me.

I shove the key under the door, trying to make it look as though it fell out of his pocket in the corridor.

I don’t know if he’s noticed that it’s missing yet.

Throwing myself down on the bed, I turn my gaze to the ceiling, painting my face with a nonchalant expression, even as my heart slams against my ribs. I’m sure that he will sense there’s something up, and come to check on me. He hasn’t let me get away with anything since the escape attempt.

Sure enough, after a few moments, I hear footsteps outside the door. I lift my head to make it look like I’ve just noticed he is present as he unlocks the door and looks inside.

"Were you out of this room?"

His voice is cold, taut. I shake my head.

He still doesn’t trust me, of course. Why would he?

Sometimes, I’m not even sure he likes me, especially given how he started being sexual with me that one night only to pull back right when he had me at the point of utter need for a release, the type I’ve never experienced.

I feel his gaze assessing me, taking in every detail from my pale cheeks and tense body language. At least I’m not blushing. I shake my head.

"No. I haven’t gone anywhere. How could I? You keep me locked in here like I’m some sort of prisoner."

He pauses for a moment, eyeing me as he tries to work out in his mind whether he believes me or not.

I look back at him as steadily as I can, though I am sure a man like him can see straight through me.

There is something piercing about his gaze, something suspicious that I can’t help but squirm under.

"Good."

He pulls the door shut once more, and I exhale slowly, reminding myself that everything is fine. Whatever panic I might be feeling right now, he knows nothing. He could notice the call I made on his phone, of course, but he has hardly looked at that thing in the time he’d been standing there.

The lock clicks shut, and I glance up to the window.

Out there, someone is looking for me. Someone might even be close to finding me.

A few days ago, that thought would have been a huge relief, but now, I feel conflicted.

I thought for a brief moment that he cared for me in some way.

That part of me is reluctant to leave, battling the part that made the phone call for help.

It’s ridiculous since he kidnapped me, and all I should want is to go home. I can’t live in this cabin, in this room, alone in the woods with him forever. So, why does the thought of returning to my father also fill me with dread? Is there nowhere in this world I can feel safe?

My father wants me home, pulling me back into his world, making me part of everything again, whether I like it or not. I have no idea what it will mean when I’m back home, no idea where that leaves me after all these days alone with a man.

Will my father have me tested to ensure I’m still worthy of marriage to a man of his choosing… still a virgin? Will he blame me in some way for the kidnapping?

Then there are the claims Max made about my father. I have no idea if Max is telling the truth, or if he is the one who has been convinced of something that sure could never be true.

Or if it is true… then I am the deluded one with her head in the sand.