Finn and I have arrived at the conclusion that they’re waiting to see if I’m knocked up. While I desperately want my period to start, I’m scared shitless of what Mr. Averson will do if it does. My best guess is we’ll have to do a repeat of what happened on that bed ten days ago.
The other shitty part about this is that Finn and I have nothing to do to preoccupy ourselves while we wait other than attempt to form a plan to get out of here. So far, all we have is Finn’s idea of climbing out the window, which he still tries to open every single morning. This morning is no exception, and he’s currently lying on the floor after attempting to push thewindow open before finally losing it and bashing it with his fist. We learned then that the window isn’t made of normal glass and won’t break.
Finn also may have broken his finger just barely while trying to push the window open.
“Let me see it,” I say as I plop down on the floor beside him.
He’s cradling his hand against his chest, his blond hair a mess, his lips all pouty. “It’s fine.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think it is.”
He frowns at me. “Even if it’s broken, we can’t do anything about it.”
“We can go over to those cameras and demand for a doctor.” I reach for his hand again. “Your dad wouldn’t be that cruel not to let you see one.”
Finn snorts a dry laugh. “Come on, with everything that’s happened, I think you know he is.” His gaze collides with mine. “The only thing he cares about is getting the Everford heir.” His intense eyes bore into me in a way that makes my heart skip in my chest.
It’s been doing that frequently over the last handful of days, but I’m blaming it on boredom, not me developing feelings for Finn.
Yeah, that’s it. Maddy, your heart just wants to entertain itself.
It sounds kind of stupid when I think about it like that, but whatever.
Finn’s gaze grows more relentless as he lets me take his hand.
I gently hold it as I examine it over, noting that one of his fingers looks crooked. “I’m pretty sure your finger’s broken.”
“Cool.” He moves his hand back to his chest.
He’s being gloomy, and I don’t like it. He’s the ray of sunshine in this storm cloud that’s smothering us. But I’m not about to make him suck it up. He can have a moment to bedepressed as long as he doesn’t allow the gloominess to drown him.
Pushing to my feet, I stomp over to the camera that’s on the bookshelf. “I know you’re listening, so I know you saw what just happened. If you care at all about your son, you need to let him see a doctor or else his finger will be jacked up forever and he’ll lose his chance at making the Royal City football team.”
Finn had confessed to me one night that his endgame after graduating was to become the quarterback for the professional football team. He has a decent chance, too, but not if his finger is messed up.
“He won’t care about that, Maddy,” Finn mumbles grumpily. “He’s never given a shit about my dreams. In fact, he’ll probably be happy because his end goal is for me to take over his business while River runs the family name.”
I cock a brow while staring at the camera. “That may have been his old plan, but his new plan is for you and me to give him an heir to the world, and if he wants me to be as cooperative as possible, he needs to take care of you.” I’m speaking more to Mr. Averson than to Finn.
Finn senses this and remains quiet.
Frustration bursts through me when nothing happens, and I yank on the camera. But like with everything else in this room, it’s been firmly sealed to the bookshelf. So, I try to knock that down, grunting and pushing at it.
Finn sits up and watches me without uttering a word, even when I kick the hell out of the bottom row and cause books to scatter across the floor.
After a while, I run out of breath and sink onto the floor.
“Are you good now?” Finn asks, hugging his hand against his chest.
I roughly sweep my hair out of my face. “No. I want to burn this place down.”
“We’d burn with it,” he points out.
“So? Is being locked here forever any better?” I ask.
He doesn’t respond right away, and the silence is horrifying because it whispers truths we don’t want to admit aloud.
How much of this isolation can we take?
