Uncovering You 10: The Finale (33 page)

Yes
, I think.
But who has faith in me?

The first thing I do when I awaken is run a hand through my hair. When my fingers find nothing but stubble, I breathe a sigh of relief.

Safe
, I think.
For now.

My movement wakes Jeremy. He opens his eyes and looks at me. “How do you feel?” he asks.

“Still here.” I mumble. “Still sane.”

“Lilly…” Jeremy sits up and looks at me in earnest. “I’m not going to abandon you. You know that. Right? I’ll always be here beside you.” He traces the outline of my jaw. “I love you.”

“Even like this?” I muster. Sadness wells inside me as I remember how difficult it was to talk to Paul. More sadness comes as I am reminded that he’s dead.

“I love you,” Jeremy says with utmost conviction. “No matter what. Nothing can make me stop loving you, Lilly.”

He sounds so very sincere and firm that it only serves to strengthen that gloomy sadness. “I don’t think I deserve your love,” I say in a hushed breath.

Jeremy’s eyes narrow. He brings both hands to my face and holds me firmly by the jaw. He leans closer.

“Don’t say that,” he says. “Never say that. Never
think
that. You have my love in full, always and forever. Understand? No matter what!” His grip tightens on my face. “You hear me? Do you hear me, Lilly Ryder? Do you understand? In this whole world, there is no one and nothing other than you.”

“Even if I’m insane?” I whisper. Despite Jeremy’s strength, despite his conviction, none of it transfers to me.

In fact, I feel like I’m just leading him on, somehow deceiving him into loving me when he should turn away.

“You’re
not
insane, Lilly,” Jeremy says. “Yesterday was a setback. We’ll get through it. We’ll get past it. We have —literally— all the resources in the world. And time, Lilly. We have time.”

“Don’t…” He touches the edge of one eye and wipes away a tear. “Don’t be sad. I’m with you, Lilly. You’re not alone. Not ever again. You told me once that
you’re
there for me, that you want me to trust and confide in you. Remember? Well now, I’m asking for the same thing. Believe in me. Believe that I will never abandon you. Believe in
us
. Believe what we have…” He presses his palm against mine. Warmth from his touch flows up my arm. “Our love transcends any hurdles that still lie in our way. We’ll overcome them . You have the strength. I know it. I’ve seen it. So don’t despair. I’ll never leave you, Lilly. You hear me? Not ever. You’re all I want. You’re all I have. This latest…malady...” His lips quirk in distaste. “…does not change anything. We’ll get through it, you and I. It’ll make our connection--it’ll make
us
—all the stronger. That, Lilly-Flower, I promise you.” He meets my eyes. “And you know I do not make promises I cannot keep.”

“Th—thank you,” I stutter. I’m tearing up in full now, but these are happy tears.

Jeremy’s words have touched my soul.

He kisses my brow. “I’m going to go see if I can find my brother,” he says, getting up and putting last night’s clothes on. “I doubt he went home last night. He’d have been analyzing what happened. Who knows?” Jeremy winks. “With luck, he might have some good news already.”

“Let’s not get our hopes up,” I say under my breath.

Jeremy looks at me. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Would you like to come?”

I look around the bright room. The morning sun shines through the window. “I think I’ll stick around here, for now.” I say. “It’s…familiar. Comfortable.”

“Okay. I’ll be back soon. Would you like me to call for some breakfast?”

“Sure,” I say. “Thank you.”

Jeremy nods. “Remember,” he adds before leaving the room, “I love you, Lilly. Nothing will ever change that.”

But what if I change
? I wonder as he closes the door.

Chapter Forty-One

Ten minutes later, Jill comes into the room. She’s carrying a small tray of food.

“There you are, Miss Ryder,” she says, propping the legs of the tray up and placing it over my lap. “Would you like anything else?”

I look at the collection of items on the tray and suppress an unexpected shiver.

There are two piles of toast. A glass of milk. And one poached egg.

The tiny provisions remind me of my time in the dark by the pillar.

“Miss Ryder?” Jill prompts.

I look up at her, startled out of my brief reverse. “What?” I say. Then I remember her question. “No. No, thank you. I’m fine.”

“You look much healthier today,” she notes. She gives a kind smile. “Much more vibrant. The rest did you good.”

I blink, surprised by the comment, and then thank her with my own smile.

“If you need anything else,” she says, “there’s a button by the side of your bed. I’ll be on call.”

“Thanks, again.” I note the tiny red button.

Jill looks me over once more, and repeats “much healthier,” under her breath. Then, she leaves me alone.

With the door closed, I pick up the first piece of toast. I hold it up, examining the tiny grains in the light. Then I shrug and take a bite.

I chew it thoroughly and slowly. I swallow. I feel the bread move down my throat. It settles in my stomach. After being prohibited food for thirty-six hours prior to the operation, it feels strange to eat.

I eat the rest of the toast at the same, measured pace. It’s a methodical, rhythmic process—almost meditative. I bite, chew, and swallow. Wait. Bite, chew, and swallow. Wait. Bite, chew, and—

The world lurches.

My arms shoot out to steady myself. I upend the tray. The glass of milk spills onto the sheets. The egg yolk smears on the mattress.

“Shit,” I curse. “Shit, shit, shit!”

I start to clean up, bunching the sheet up to limit the mess. My dark hair falls into my eyes. I swat it away, irritated and annoyed, and continue cleaning.

The door opens and
Stonehart
walks in.

I freeze when I see him. My entire body goes into shock. My eyes widen. I gasp. “You!”

He crooks his head to the side and smiles. “Yes, me,” he says, not unkindly. “Who did you expect? I found my brother. He has good news. He…”

“No!” I yelp and scamper off the bed, away from him. My eyes search for a way out.

He’s blocking the exit. There’s no escape.

“Lilly?” Stonehart asks. He steps toward me. “Lilly, what is it?”

“NO!” I scream. I point an unsteady finger at him. “You! Stay away! Stay away!”

My back hits the wall. My damned hair keeps falling into my face. Fuck, but I should have tied it back! But Stonehart doesn’t allow for such luxuries. He likes it flowing and long…

He takes another step toward me. “Lilly…” he begins.

“No!” I scream. “Stay away, you monster! Stay away! DON’T TOUCH ME!”

His dark eyes bore into me. I can feel the aggression behind them. The absolute depravity that makes him capable of rape after rape after rape.

My vision spins. Sparks start to flutter in and out around the edges. They make me nervous.
He
makes me nervous, and he’s still not going away!

I crumble down into a small ball in the corner of the room. I cower, terrified. Terrified of Stonehart, terrified of what he’s come here to do. I can’t stand another rape. I can’t. I cannot! I’ll go crazy if he touches me. I’ll lose my mind…

The first seeds of darkness start to take root.

I breathe hard. I sink lower, rocking on my heels. “No, no, no, no, no,” I repeat, over and over again. I close my eyes, squeeze them tight. The blackness beckons me. The blackness feels safe. I want to feel its embrace, to feel—

Stonehart touches my shoulder. I scream and jerk away.

He pulls back, like his fingers have just grazed the side of a scalding kettle. Frantic, I spin my head around, searching for an escape. My hair keeps flying in my vision. Damn thing! I should have shaved it off long ago, and let’s see how Mr. Stonehart likes me then!

I see a spot. A hiding place. It’s small, but compact and close enough that I think I can reach it before Stonehart touches me again. If I hear the horrifying, ominous sound of him undoing his zipper, I’m going to lose it…

With all the strength, courage, determination, and speed I can muster, I scuttle like a crab to that precious hiding spot under the bed.

Relief
. Relief washes over me when I reach it. In fact, it’s accompanied by something akin to disbelief. I made it
past
Stonehart, so fast that he couldn’t even grab me.

I hear the door open and close.

Cautiously, I raise my head. I look out from my protective cave.

The room is empty. Stonehart has left?

I frown, puzzled all of a sudden. Stonehart has never left me before getting what he wants. He never left me without taking control of my body…

Pure terror grips me next. The only reason he would have left is that I’ve made him majorly pissed.

And a Stonehart who is displeased with me?

Well, he takes his punishment out in crude and unusual ways.

My heart is beating so fast. I keep running a hand through my hair, over and over again, almost obsessively. I click my tongue and stop it.
Damn bad habit
, I think.
I don’t know where I picked it up.

I wait for my heartbeat to slow. My breathing calms. I feel more…steady. More sure of myself.

Shit
, I think.
I shouldn’t have panicked.
Why did I panic? I’ve dealt with Stonehart before. Nothing he does now can be any worse.

Then realization—or maybe remembrance—hits me. Stonehart doesn’t like a weak woman. He likes one who’s feisty, who can fight back.

I take a full, deep breath. I have no idea what’s gotten into me. I’m not a frightened mouse to hide under the bed. I am a phoenix, glorious and strong, waiting for my rebirth…

…which I will have as soon as I have completed the five years of my contract. I have to get close to Stonehart. Don’t I? I have to get close to him to get my vengeance. That’s an oath I swore.

So, with the memory of that promise pulsing through me with the strength of an oxen’s heart, I emerge from my pathetic hiding spot and sit on the bed as regal as any queen.

I adjust my nightgown, smoothing out the wrinkles on the front. I feel an odd sensation between my legs. My hand dips underneath, and I find a pair of panties around my hips.

Confusion grips me. The room spins again. Panties? But Stonehart prohibits all form of underwear! How the hell did these get there?

As quickly as I can, I strip them off and fling them to the corner. I feel cleansed.

I sigh in relief, smooth my nightgown once more, run a hand through my hair—catch myself doing it, chide myself for succumbing to that awful habit, and let my hands drop.

I fold them in my lap and face the door to wait.

Then I have a better idea. A queen does not sit
waiting
for her subjects. No, a queen
expects.
And I have to be a queen in Stonehart’s eyes.

I can expect nothing if I’m angled toward the door.

So I turn around and face the window, leaving my proud and exposed back to the doorway.

Long minutes pass. I drum my fingers on my thigh.

What’s taking him so long
, I wonder.

And then the door opens, and I smile.
Ah, there he is
.

I turn—and am immediately thrown into an awful tailspin.