Uncovering You 4: Retribution (5 page)

We enter the dining room to find the table already set. I get a rush of bad vibes remembering what happened here less than twenty-four hours ago.

They evaporate when Stonehart picks up our plates and carries the food into one of the sitting rooms.

He pulls a coffee table up to a couch and lowers our meals onto it.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “A break of decorum, isn’t it?”

“Today, with you, it’s worth it,” he says, and gives me that genuine smile that sets my heart fluttering again.

I sit beside him and look at our food. Then, instead of eating, I turn to him. “Jeremy. I wanted to ask you something. About what you said this morning…”

“Lilly.” Stonehart stops me by holding up a hand. “We’ve had a good day. Don’t ruin it now.”

“No, but I have to know,” I press on, determined. “Why would you tell Esteban that you want me to run his company? Was it just to piss him off?”

Stonehart’s eyes darken and his mouth tightens. “We’ve talked about this,”” he says curtly. “I’ve told you my intentions. There’s nothing more to discuss.”

“But—“

“
Nothing
Lilly,” he emphasizes.

I lower my eyes and wisely drop the subject. I don’t want to press my luck.

Dinner passes pleasantly enough. When I ask Stonehart where Rose is, he tells me that it’s just us here, tonight.

After we finish eating, he stands up. “Follow me,” he says.

I get up and trail him out of the room. In the hallway, he turns back to me and speaks. “There are two parts of the house you haven’t seen yet,” he tells me. “Well, three, if I’m being honest. But you get to see only two of them now.”

I follow Stonehart up the stairs. “The first is my office,” he explains. Neither his voice nor his expression gives away anything that might refer to the time he caught me in the surveillance room. “You are not allowed inside except with my express verbal permission.” He walks to the end of the hall, where it forks into two. Instead of turning either way, however, he runs his hand along the underside of a small, round table.

I hear the whirr of some sort of mechanism. The next thing I know, the wall in front of me is parting.

“The NFC chip,” he says, touching his wrist. He gives me a smile that’s hard to read. “As you can see, you were never in any real danger of stumbling into my office.”

He steps through the new entrance. When I don’t follow straight away, he turns back. “Lilly?”

I swallow and touch the front of my collar. “Is it… safe?”

“Assuredly so,” Stonehart says.

“I won’t get shocked?”

“No.”

“Okay,” I say. “I trust you.”

“That’s a pleasant revelation,” he murmurs as I step after him. He slips his hand behind my back.

I hide my smile.

He directs me to the end of the hidden hall where our way is barred by a set of grand oak doors. They could be twins of the ones to his boardroom.

“Through there,” he says, “is my office. But I needn’t trouble you with it today. This—” he tilts his head to the side, “is what I brought you here for.”

I notice a smaller doorway that I had overlooked. “What is it?”

“You’ll see.” He smiles. “Open the door.”

I grip the handle and push down.

The door swings open. I am greeted by the most magnificent sight I’ve seen in weeks:

Books
! Shelves upon shelves of books. A private library of astounding size.

I walk in, mouth agape. The shelves run from floor to ceiling all around me. There isn’t a single space vacant. Thick, richly colored spines stand next to tall, skinny ones. The sheer number of books astounds me. I bet I could spend my entire five-year term in here and not get bored.

Not that I intend to
, I remind myself with vitriol.
I want to escape. I
need
to escape. I have to get back at Stonehart for everything he’s done.

But, after a day like today… do I even want to?

Yes!
A resounding voice shouts in my head.

That train of thought is lost as Stonehart’s deep voice pulls me back to him.

“…leaving for a business trip for fifteen days.”

“What?” I turn to him, eyes widening. “You’re leaving? When?”

“Soon,” he says. “In the next few days.” He sounds vaguely amused. “The library impressed you. I trust you’ll have enough material to entertain yourself in here while I’m gone?”

“Oh yes,” I say. “This is wonderful. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He smiles. Then he picks up my hand, kisses it, and cups it between two of his. “I am afraid this is where our journey ends,” he informs me. “Business beckons. I’ll be in the office next door, and I do not want to be disturbed. You may stay in here as long as you like. When you go to bed, you’re allowed to take three books with you at a time.” He holds up three fingers. “Three, Lilly. No more. Do you understand?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Of course, while you’re in here, you may take as many off the shelves as you wish. I expect to see them returned to their proper place when you’re done. Don’t forget what I told you about precision.”

“I won’t,” I promise.

“Good,” he says, and turns away.

He’s already out the door when I find the courage to call out, “Wait! Jeremy.”

He turns back and raises an eyebrow.

I give him a smile that’s chock full of the radiance I feel blooming inside. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle. He gives a little, appreciative nod, and closes the door after him.

I spend the next two days locked in the library, coming out only at mealtimes for a quick snack before returning to my sanctuary.

After going so long with no form of mental stimulation, I overindulge. I pick up half a dozen books the first day and start all of them. It doesn’t matter what the subject is: fiction or nonfiction, stories or memoirs, classic texts or best-selling ‘literature.’ Everything is appealing to me.

I gobble up the words faster than I can breathe. At first, I don’t even care what I’m reading. The sensation of losing myself in a book is wonderful—especially after being deprived of the opportunity for so long.

I don’t see Stonehart at all during that time. Once, when I was running out for a late breakfast, I noticed the door to his office ajar. I could hear him barking orders on the phone. His intonation told me he was not very happy. I decided that would probably be the worst time to get caught eavesdropping.

When I hurried back to the library, still chewing the piece of toast from breakfast, the door to the office was closed, and I could not hear anything from inside.

Obviously, Stonehart hasn’t left on his two-week business trip yet. I don’t know when he will. I wish I’d paid more attention when he told me about it. I don’t want to ask him now because I don’t want to seem eager for him to be gone.

A misinterpretation like that could be disastrous.

At the end of my forty-eight hour reading binge, I return to the sunroom, one tattered volume under my arm, and find a note waiting for me on the bed:

I am pleased that you find my library so fascinating. If I had known, I would have granted you access to it earlier.

I will be gone from the estate for the next two days. You have complete access to all my property, except the office. I expect you to be ready for me, as always, when I return.

I leave for two weeks the day after that, so plan on making our next encounter extra-memorable.

- J.S.

I can’t contain my smile as I read the words. Two more days without Stonehart, followed by one night together, and then another two weeks apart? I’ll take it.

If nothing else, I need the separation to help rebuild my resolve.

***

I have trouble falling asleep that night. My mind is busy creating all types of scenarios of the future.

I have no idea how Stonehart intends to make our next encounter “memorable”. I decide not to dwell on that, since I can’t change it.

I’m more curious about the Dextran offer. I can’t believe Stonehart would extend it to me. Wouldn’t giving me that kind of free reign be one of the biggest liabilities he can undertake?

I mean, he’s talking about not only giving me full access to the outside world, but propelling me into one of the most important positions!

Why?

In my heart, I know the offer can’t be anything but a vain joke. I mean, I don’t even have newspaper access yet. That comes with another five TGBs. But, already, he’s talking about putting me in charge of a massive technology firm!

It makes no sense. No, it’s worse than that. It doesn’t just make no sense. It’s utter lunacy. Here I am, Stonehart’s prisoner and captive, brought here for reasons unknown, and he wants me to become one of his CEOs?

It’s insanity. I mean, it’s not like I’m thick enough not to see the offer for what it really is: him dangling a large, juicy carrot in front of me. I’m sure I’m never meant to actually reach it.

Then, there’s the gala at the end of the month. That’s something much more immediate. It seems more likely to happen, too. I haven’t heard any more about it, but I assume it’s still on the table. Better to be safe and think it is than to dismiss it too early.

I roll over to a more comfortable position. By my calculation, the gala will take place right around the time Stonehart gets back from his two-week trip. That means I only have one day with him—one
night
—before the event.

There is no way I’ll earn enough TGBs to go.

Then again, if he wants me to go, nobody said that I
have
to have the proper amount of TGBs. He’s the one making the rules, after all. He can just as easily break them.

That scares me. I’m enslaved by his rules. He has nothing guiding him but his word... and maybe his honor.

Are either of those things worth anything to me?

The gala will be a test. I’m sure of that. Stonehart will want to see how I behave in public with him.

He’s not an idiot. He knows I want revenge. He’ll be watching me closely for anything that might betray my intentions.

It will probably be best to forget about alerting anyone to my situation at the gala. If it goes well, I’ll have more opportunities to go places with him in the future. I can only make my move when we’re both comfortable with me out and about with him.

Then there’s the other annoying, pesky, lingering thing:
Am I even sure I
want
revenge anymore?

I bristle. Of course I do. Of course I want revenge. I want revenge, vengeance, justice,
freedom
…

Except… if I were to take the last three days in isolation… would my life seem so bad?

I live in an enormous house built on a massive estate. I have a spectacular view of the ocean from a room that is bigger than a basketball court. I can come and go as I please. I have access to a grand library. A swimming pool. Exercise equipment. I have a closet full of clothes, the value of which is more than I can ever hope to earn even after a decade of work.

Somebody cooks for me. Somebody cleans for me. I have books. I have a huge, comfortable bed. I have Jeremy Stone—

I have the collar.

I have the collar. It was put on my neck by the man.

I have no freedom. I have a life structured by his crazy rules.

Just because he hasn’t
been
crazy for three days doesn’t mean my situation is any better.

After all, it was just four days ago that he made me eat the dove. Four nights ago, he tied me up and fucked me raw. A month ago he starved me in the dark.

I bolt upright in bed. My heart is racing. All thought of sleep is now forgotten. This is
Stonehart
I’m talking about. The same man who drugged me and ripped me from my life. The same man I vowed I would bring down the day I signed the contract.

I get up, wrapping a robe around myself, and stride to the huge glass wall. I touch one of the panels and look up at the night sky. The glass is cold beneath my fingertips.

Cold. Just like Stonehart can be.

No. Just like Stonehart
is
.

He is a cold-hearted bastard. Nothing says he’s changed. Why
would
he change? It’s gotten him very far in life!

I can’t let a few tolerable days sway my resolve.

I need to get back at him. I know that. I know it as well as I know my left hand from my right.

But, do I feel a pressing need for revenge, as I stand here, completely unrestricted and free to go wherever I want on the property? Do I feel that need, that desire, deep in my heart?

I strain for it… and come up empty. It’s not there anymore. It’s disappeared.

I shiver once and wrap my arms around myself. Am I really that weak? Have I given in already?

I touch the ever-present plastic ring around my neck. I wait for feelings of disgust and revulsion to bubble up to the surface…

But they do not come.

Stonehart has already conditioned me not to feel them.

“Damn it!” I cry out and strike my fist against the glass. The panel shudders under the blow.

I should want to be free, shouldn’t I? I should want to get away!

And yet, right now, those desires are as far off as the land on the other side of the ocean.

I’ve grown content. Comfortable. Maybe a little bit complacent.

It could be the optimist in me. I’ve always tried to make the best of my surroundings. That is how I got through high school with grades good enough to go to Yale in spite of living with an alcoholic mother.

Now, that trait is, undoubtedly, working against me.

I walk to the door and lean my forehead against the glass. I look at the spot on the ground where I found the dove not so long ago. If anything, that should remind me of why I need to fight.

I can’t forget the “TGB” I got that night at dinner.

I sigh, and turn to bed. Before my first step, I have a change of heart. I spin back, completing a full circle, and open the door.

Cool night air rushes in, making my skin rise in goosebumps. I breathe deep, loving the salty tang of the air.