“I’m sorry.” He reclaims the distance between us, gently stroking my face. “You know I’d never treat you like that. But this plan only works if your father believes I’m fully committed to doing things the elite way.”
“Is this Parkhurst?” I ask.
He nods. “I’ve never been in this building before. This is where they send family members in need of medical intervention.” Disgust appears on his face, and I’m glad to glimpse the real Charlie.
“So those other buildings in the distance are the main compound? That’s where you’ve all been going?”
He nods again but gives nothing else away.
“You never answered me before,” I say, easing out of his hold and walking to the bed. I flop down on the mattress. All the adrenaline has fled my body, leaving me drained. My arms ache as I roll on my side, fighting a yawn.
He lies down beside me, angling his head so we’re facing one another. “I know you need answers, but save them for the ride home because there isn’t enough time to explain it all now. I’ve convinced your father to let me drive you rather than taking the jet, so we can stay a night in a hotel and have some alone time.”
I prop up on my elbows, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. “Why are you doing that?”
He tucks my hair behind one ear, peering deep into my eyes. “To give us enough time to talk everything through. There’s so much you don’t know. So much I couldn’t tell you.”
“But you’re going to now?”
“Yes.” He leans in close, and my eyes pop wide as he brings his mouth closer to mine. At the last second, he veers left, planting a soft kiss on my cheek.
“Okay, but I’m holding you to that. I won’t be kept in the dark any longer.”
“Agreed.” He sits up, stalking into the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” I follow him, watching him peer out the window. The bathroom window doesn’t have bars on it, but that’s because the only way out is via a thirty-foot drop. I’d ruled it out as an escape route early on for that very reason.
“Trying to figure out a way to get this dude out of here before anyone realizes you were escaping.” He inspects the bathroom door next, removing the key and curling my hand around it. “Leave the window unlocked, but lock the door from the outside after I’m gone. That way, if he wakes before I get to him, he can’t get out.”
“But he could make enough noise to draw attention.”
Charlie draws the shower curtain back, removing a length of rope from the inside of his jacket pocket. I arch a brow. “I never leave home without it,” he quips, and I wonder if his humor is an attempt to deflect the truth of that statement.
He ties Wyatt’s hands and feet with the rope and stuffs a handkerchief in his mouth.
“What if he chokes?” I ask, chewing on the inside of my mouth.
“Do you honestly care?” He stands, moving to the sink.
“He’s an idiot ruled by his dick, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die,” I supply, watching as Charlie clinically washes and dries his hands.
“He can breathe through his nose.” He kisses my brow, before hauling me out into the main room. “And he’ll be gone before you know it.” He holds my face in his palms, looking like he wants to say more. “Get some sleep, and I’ll see you Sunday.”
He blows me a kiss, before pulling the door shut behind him, and I stand rooted to the spot, wondering what the hell Charlie is up to, because there’s zero doubt in my mind that he’s playing some game.
And I’m suspecting I may be the prize.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I expect you to behave yourself and do everything Charles says,” the bastard tells me, digging his nails into my shoulders as we wait on the front steps for Charlie on Sunday afternoon. He’s gone to collect the car he hired for the thirty-hour drive home.
Go fuck yourself.
“Of course, Father.” I smile up at him, saying what he needs to hear. “This differs from Trent. I hated him, but I love Charlie. I’m not unhappy about this. At all,” I lie.
The bastard nods as he takes a long puff of his cigar. “That pleases me, Abigail. Perhaps there’s still hope for you.” He flicks the cigar away, digging his nails even farther into my skin in a way I know will leave marks. His eyes narrow to slits as he leans into my face. “But if you’re lying. If you’re playing me. There will be hell to pay.”
“I’m not,” I lie. “I didn’t want to marry Trent, but I’m looking forward to marrying Charlie.” My insides twist painfully as more lies darken my soul.
“And what of Kaiden Anderson?”
This time I don’t have to lie. My lips pull into a snarl, and my hands ball into fists as I unleash the anger bottled up inside me. “I hate that manipulative bastard, and I hope he rots in hell.”
My response pleases him. He pats me on the head. “Good girl, Abigail.”
Patronizing prick.
Charlie chooses that appropriate moment to arrive, pulling up in a top-of-the-line, blacked-out Land Rover. I have no bag, so I skip down the steps and slide into the passenger seat. To keep up appearances, I lean over and kiss him on the mouth. He winds his hand in my hair, drawing me closer and deepening the kiss.
It’s not a chore kissing Charlie, but I don’t want him getting the wrong idea, so I subtly pinch his thigh, and he breaks the kiss before it turns too intense.
“You two lovebirds have a good trip,” the bastard says, sticking his cosmetically altered hideous face in Charlie’s window. “And I want you to check in with me the minute you arrive back in Rydeville, son. Mrs. Banks will pack up Abigail’s things, and I’ll have them delivered to your house.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll take good care of her.”
“Not too good.” The bastard smirks, looking over Charlie’s head at me. “You let your fiancé do whatever he wants to your body. He owns it. Not you.”
“Like I said, Daddy. This is different.” My tone is elevated as I’m losing control of my tenuous emotions.
“We’ll see you Tuesday, sir.” Charlie floors it the instant the bastard steps away, and the brakes squeal as we hightail it down the driveway at speed.
“I want to kill that fucking bastard for the way he speaks to you and about you,” he seethes.
“Get in line,” I reply, glancing out the window. “And death would be too easy for him. I want to make him suffer.”
“You have a plan?” he asks, slowing down the engine as we reach the entrance gates.
“It’s a work in progress.”
The gates open, and Charlie pulls the car out onto the road, and I’m free of that hellhole.
“We need to coordinate,” he adds, casting a quick glance at me.
“Who’s we?”
“Me, Drew, and Xavier.”
I pull my knees up to my chest, wishing I had different clothes. Anything but this fucking uniform. “Hold that thought,” I say, looking into the back seat, eyeing up Charlie’s bag. “Do you have anything I can change into?”
“I’ve a couple of T-shirts and some sweats.”