Uncovering You 10: The Finale (12 page)

Now? Here? I don’t see the endgame.

That is just a tiny bit frightening.

“So now that you know all that,” Hugh says, “you have become dispensable. You see how I cannot simply have you let go. But, my dear, sad for you, letting you go was never an option. For now, what you are… is bait.

“And you must know, Lilly, that to catch the biggest fish, the bait must be swallowed whole.”

Chapter Seventeen

I’m shoved back into my small white prison by a pair of crude hands.

I stumble, fall. But as soon as the door closes, instead of staying down, I lift myself up.

Anger and rage pulse through me. They overwhelm whatever despair was there before.

I go into the bathroom and turn on the cold shower on with the press of a button. Icy water falls from the shaft.

I step into it, afraid no longer. The cold takes my breath away but it also revitalizes me.

I embrace it as it purges my body of all the crimes that have been done to it.

I emerge, dry myself, and put on that same cotton robe. I’ve found my determination. I’ve found my purpose. I may be caged away, but I refuse to feel helpless anymore.

I’ll find a way out. Somehow, I will. Or, if that’s not possible—if I am to actually meet my end here—then I will make it
such
an end, that I will die knowing that my life has had meaning.

But I don’t intend to die. For now all I can do is wait. Wait, and wait, and wait until I am given the chance to capitalize on whatever comes next.

A few days later, Hugh visits me in my room. He brings Rose.

She is unapologetic and entirely free of guilt. She stands aside and lets Hugh control the conversation. But, I can see the pride shining through her eyes.

Hatred. Hatred such as I’ve never experienced, even with Jeremy, even when he was Stonehart, burns through my body. All of it is directed at her. Her deception, her trickery. The crimes that she committed against Jeremy when he was still a boy.

She
is the worst kind of human. She is living scum. Loyalty, trust, compassion—none of those things mean anything to Rose.

If I go out… I want to take her with me.

Hugh draws my attention to him with a snap of his fingers. “Here, Lilly,” he says. “Look here. Not at Rose. You are not allowed to speak to her.”

I tear my eyes away, consumed by hatred, feeling it heat up my insides like a physical thing. No, I’ve never experienced anything that can come close to this with Stonehart. Not once.

Hugh smiles. “Very good,” he says. “I’m going to need a favor from you.”

I lift my chin. “What?”

“I’m going to need you to write my son. For some reason,” He shrugs, as his shrewd eyes continue to dance. “Your Jeremy does not put as much faith in video footage as others might.”

“What do you want me to say?” I ask through gritted teeth. I clench my fists, doing everything I can not to succumb to the temptation to attack Rose on the spot. I would tear her eyes out. The manipulative bitch! I know that I could take her, and Hugh, too, even in my malnourished state.

But the two guards looking in through the open door? They would destroy me. I don’t want to suffer another rape at their leader’s hands.

“Tell him that you are being taken care of. Tell Jeremy that you are safe—for the moment.” He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a Ziploc bag with my dark brown hair. “Your letter will be accompanied by this.”

Rose steps forward and places a single piece of paper by my side, together with a small bit of darkened charcoal.

“We couldn’t risk you giving into temptation with a pen,” she says, smiling her motherly smile. “I can see the hate in your eyes, Lilly Ryder.” She laughs. “For all we know, you might have tried attacking me with it.”

All too true
. I think, picking up the sliver of hardened ash.

“Jeremy won’t believe me unless I know what you want,” I tell Hugh. “How could he think I’m safe? He’s not an idiot. I’ve been here for more than a month!”

“Maybe ‘safe’ was a poor word choice.” Hugh admits. “How about, ‘still alive’? Would that make things better?”

“More realistic,” I grumble, staring daggers at the two of them.

Rose steps forward. She addresses Hugh. “May I?” she asks.

“Be my guest.”

“Lilly,” Rose smiles at me. “You always wanted me to call you by your first name. Didn’t you? Looks like you finally got your wish.” She comes closer to the bed and squats down, looking up at me through big, innocent eyes. “You really have to understand. I don’t harbor you any ill will. I’m not your enemy. I’m a friend.” She reaches out and touches my knee. I scoot away. “Don’t you remember?”

“How can you say that?” I hiss. Hatred and loathing clench up my insides like the fiery jaw of a dragon. “This whole time, it was
you
. You were the one I had to look out for. You were the cause of all this.” My anger begins to boil over, become insuppressible. “It was because of
you
that Jeremy grew up the way he did. Full of loathing. Full of hate. You ruined his childhood, took away his home.”

She laughs, and touches a hand to her chest. “Who? Little old me? No, no, no, Lilly.” She shakes her head. “I helped Jeremy become a man. You should be grateful to me. Without me, you would have never experienced the richness of the life you lead.”

“The life I
led
,” I counter.

She smiles again and pats my foot. “It was never meant to last, my dear. One way or another, it would always have ended with you, broken, ruined, in the gutter. If not at Jeremy’s hands…” she gives a small, girlish laugh, “then at his father’s. Isn’t the irony oh so sweet?”

She stands up. “Jeremy thought you worthy of him,” she says. “He was wrong.
I
was the only woman who was ever his equal. For leading me to believe that my dear Hugh was deceased, he must be punished.” She places her hands on Hugh’s shoulder. “’When he came back to me, after all those years, I found my purpose again. With Hugh, with Esteban, I’m going to strike Jeremy where it hurts the most. Stonehart Industries. And you, his little, precious
Lilly-Flower
…” She fills the words with jeer. “…will become nothing more than an extra casualty, a wreck, a carcass left on the side of the street to rot. We will use you to drive the stake deep into Jeremy’s heart. And, oh yes, dear, you will cooperate. Because the things a woman can do to another… pale in comparison to the cruelties that a man’s mind might drag up.

“Your time in the dark with Jeremy will be nothing compared to what I’ll let them do to you here. Only a woman’s mind can know the ways to hurt you the most.” She turns away. “So, write Jeremy that letter. Hugh will dictate. And don’t think you’re getting out of this alive,
Miss Ryder
. Sadly, you’re not.”

A day after my message to Jeremy, Big Man comes to pay me a visit.

“Someone is getting desperate,” he sneers, throwing that day’s newspaper on the bed beside me. I see my picture on the front page. “The reward’s been doubled.”

Another week goes by with me no closer to… well, to
anything
.

I’m going crazy cooped up in this little white room. I’m not fed a lot, but I’m nowhere close to starving, either. I get clean water every day.

There’s something brewing on the outside. Something big. I can feel it. The silence on all fronts just makes the anticipation worse.

Big Man is the only human I see that week. He brings my food and water but nothing else. He hasn’t said a word after depositing that newspaper several days ago.

I’ve read it front to back. Jeremy’s reward for any information about me is ludicrous. With that much money on the line, it makes me wonder: Why hasn’t anyone come?

The answer scares me. It’s because I am locked somewhere so far away, so far out of sight, that nobody
can
come.

Jeremy, with all his resources, guards, surveillance, and everything else, cannot find me.

Rose. Hugh. Esteban. All of them connected; all of them linked. All three have grievances against Jeremy. And all three are collaborating to seek revenge.

Hugh called me bait. Rose said I’m not leaving this place alive. Where does that put me?

In a position of unparalleled despair. And yet—seven days have passed, and nothing’s happened.

Maybe Hugh and Esteban and Rose are not as secure as they want me to believe.

On the eve of the eighth day, Esteban comes in.

He’s in a stark white suit that contrast deeply with his dark skin. His hair is disarrayed, lending him an appearance of madness.

I sit up. He looks at me, and extends his hand. “Come with me, my dear.”

Tentatively, I stand, and tighten the sash on my robe. “Where?”

He smiles. “We have another video to shoot.”

My gut clenches. But I don’t let the fear show. I smile back and take his hand.

“So cold,” he murmurs as he leads me through the hall. “Poor thing, your hands are so cold. They must not be feeding you enough.” He pats my hand when we stop before a close door. “I can change that, should you wish. But, dear thing,” he reaches up and brushes my cheek. “For that to happen, I’ll need you to cooperate.”