“It was probably Leo Morelli who did this to you,” she says. “Everyone knows he’s the Beast of Bishop’s Landing. Violent. Unstable. Dangerous.”
“You’re the dangerous one.”
She smiles, looking beautiful and cold. “You don’t know what you’re saying. It’s probably Stockholm Syndrome. You’ve been kept captive for so long you actually sympathize with your kidnapper. I’ll help you. I’ll help you until you understand the truth.”
This is not my home. I’m not this kind of Constantine. I never have been, and I never will be.
She strokes my cheek again, then takes my hand in hers. I pull mine back just as quickly, but she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink. “Let’s talk about what you need. Something to eat, first. I’m sure you must be starving. And some new things to wear. What would you like? I’ve seen some lovely winter dresses that would be so gorgeous on you.” Caroline waves her hand. “But don’t limit yourself. You can have anything you want.”
“I want to leave. I need to leave here. I need to be with Leo.”
“No, darling.” A sad, soft smile. “You only think you want Leo Morelli because he conditioned you to think so. He did so many terrible things, but they’re over now. He probably had sex with you against your will. But he—what? He gave you an orgasm, perhaps. So you think you’re not a victim, but you are. You were his victim, and now you’re safe.”
Except I’m not. Her touch lingers. A rush of goose bumps moves from my shoulders to my wrists.
I can still feel the five individual points where her fingertips rested against my cheek and her thumb turned my chin. Handprint-sized patches where she held my face. I have the horrified sense that I won’t be able to scrub them away no matter how many times I drag a washcloth over my skin. I could cut all my hair off and still feel her brushing it back like she had any right to do it. I could wash my hands a hundred times and still feel her fingers on mine.
All of this is nothing, nothing, compared to what she did to Leo. I’ve lived with this for thirty seconds. He’s had to live with so much worse.
Every day.
For so many years.
“I’m going to be sick.”
I don’t hear what Caroline says next because I’m heaving into a mint-green wastebasket next to the desk. She rubs my back the whole time, in calm, slow circles.
Chapter Two
Haley
I survive the rest of the day by counting heartbeats. Counting breaths. Anything that means time is going by. I try to keep it simple in my thoughts. If Leo has enough time, he’ll be able to get to me, and take me out of here.
Caroline comes in and out of the room. She makes a point of showing me to the en suite bathroom. A new toothbrush waits for me on the countertop along with a little clutch of products. Soon after she brings stacks of clothes. “They’re brand new, but I’ve had them washed.” I stare at the back of her head while she tucks them into the dresser. She would have had them washed and dried by someone else. Someone she pays. We washed our own clothes growing up, in a rickety washer and dryer that my dad kept around like a family pet. He chuckled while he fixed them over and over.
Leo has his clothes washed and dried, too. Mrs. Page is in charge of all that. Caroline wants me to believe that his house isn’t my home, but it is. It could be. I’ll always be a little bit torn between his castle and my dad’s house, but I can fix all that if I get back to Leo. If Leo comes for me. And he will. I know he will.
More expensive perfume wafts to the bed, followed closely by Caroline. “Are you feeling any better? I brought you a book. Sit up, darling. It’s not good to lie in bed all day.”
I sit up before she can touch me, and she puts the book into my lap.
It’s a nonfiction book about the power of forgiveness. A watercolor leaf decorates the front cover. “Is this a joke?”
For a split second, her mask of concern slips and Caroline’s eyes narrow. The blue there turns cold enough to freeze my spine. This is the woman who whipped Leo so badly he could have died from it. There’s nothing to stop her from doing the same to me. She might do it anyway.
I was foolish to talk to her like that.
Caroline blinks and the mask is back up. The corners of her mouth turn into that sad smile. “Of course not. Just something that’s helped me change my way of thinking.”
I don’t read the book, but I pretend to read it. I put on the best show of my life, guessing how long it will take to read each page and then turning them at what I hope are accurate intervals.
It might as well be a book full of Leo’s name, over and over again.
Caroline brings soup in a bowl and sits on the end of the bed while I eat it. It’s a tasteless chicken noodle. She asks me if it’s all right, and I tell her it’s good.
When I tell her I’m tired in the early afternoon, it’s not really a lie. Whatever her bulldog used to knock me out clings to my veins. My eyelids are heavy with missing Leo. With hoping he’ll be here soon.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Caroline says. “I’ll check on you before dinner.”
I count a hundred heartbeats after she leaves, then swing my legs over the side of the bed. She won’t be back for an hour at least. If she thinks I’m sleeping, I could slip away. It doesn’t matter that I don’t have shoes. I might not be able to get to Leo’s house barefoot but I can get to my dad’s. I rub at my eyes on the way, willing them to stay open.
The doorknob doesn’t turn.
I wrench it harder on the off chance my arms are weak.
It doesn’t move.
The back of the knob is completely flat, and my stomach turns over again. Caroline planned all this down to the last detail. I’m certain her guest bedrooms haven’t always locked from the outside.
Or maybe they have. I don’t know. Maybe she regularly keeps people in these rooms and no one knows about it. She’s Caroline Constantine. She could do anything. She could keep me here forever, and no one would ever know. I pace back across the room and rush back to try the door again.
Locked.
But no. Caroline wouldn’t keep my presence here a secret. She would tell people so they could praise her for rescuing me. Everyone would be on her side. No one suspects her of anything but being rich. Why would they? Leo’s the villain in the story of Bishop’s Landing. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t live here anymore. That he hasn’t for years. He’ll always be the evil villain, and Caroline will always be a benevolent queen.
I’m driving myself crazy. I can’t think like this. I have to keep it together until Leo arrives.
I drift into a dream about Leo’s house. It’s even bigger in the dream. Winter sunlight streams in through the windows on the second floor, illuminating the empty halls. Every room is empty. No Leo in his bedroom. No Leo waiting in the guest bedroom I slept in. No Leo disappearing around a corner. His office, maybe.
Where is his office? I pass the guest bedroom again and again. Finally I stumble over the big stairs at the front of the house and go down at a run.
Now that I’m closer, I can hear him.
I can hear him trying to breathe.
Failing to breathe.