But this time it has to be her decision, and she has to do it of her own free will.
Chapter
Fourteen
Linnea
Ican't stop thinking about Thorne. I know Sir’s name now, but it’s still the only one I have.
I remember his hands on my skin, the ecstasy he brought me… and the pain. Even as I sit at my mother's bedside, watching her fitful sleep after the trauma we’ve both been through, my mind keeps drifting back to Thorne's apartment and everything that happened there.
Three days left on our contract. Three more days of being at his beck and call, of submitting to his every whim.
But even as he reminded me of that, he told me I didn't need to come back. What does that mean? It’s all so confusing.
And it’s not like I have anything to lose. He’s already paid me. A quick check of my banking app showed more money in my account than I’ve ever seen in my life. Enough to finance the mortgage. Enough to get our lives back on track. Especially if they really do change the verdict on my father’s death so his life insurance pays out. That will see our debts paid in full, withsome left over, and then we’ll be free from the mob. Although I’m not so certain anymore that the guy, Lex, is actually the mob.
And even if that doesn’t happen, I can afford to repay Lex with what I’ve earned from Primal Fantasies and still reduce the mortgage to a manageable level.
So why am I still itching to return? To see him.
I try to shake off the conflicting emotions, but they cling to me like cobwebs. Gratitude wars with suspicion. Relief tangles with a strange, burning curiosity. Thorne has done more for us than I ever expected, including sending a doctor to the house to check on me and Mom. So yeah, way more than he needed to. I mean, he didn’t need to do anything at all.
So why? Why did he endanger himself by coming here and confronting Reggie? How did he find me? And how the hell does he know Lex? All I have are questions I don’t know the answers to.
Three days… is that an invitation?
I bite my lip, glancing at my mother's sleeping form. The steady rise and fall of her chest is comforting, but it doesn't quell the restlessness inside me.
The rational part of my brain screams at me to stay put, to be grateful for what I've already received and not push my luck. But there's another part, a part I'm almost ashamed to acknowledge, that craves more. More of his touch, his commands, the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure only he seems able to provide.
I stand up, pacing the small confines of the bedroom. My body feels like a live wire, crackling with pent-up energy and unanswered questions. I want to understand him, to unravel the mystery of the man who is Thorne and work out how he fits into the chaotic puzzle of my life.
If I had his number or an email address, I’d be tempted to message and ask... what? I'm not even sure.
But I don’t. I don’t have any way to contact him. I just know where he lives.
With a frustrated sigh, I grab my phone and house keys. I can't just sit here, trapped in this endless loop of questions and what-ifs. Maybe a walk will clear my head.
"I'll be back soon, Mom," I tell her, even though she can't hear me since the doctor gave her a sedative and said she’d sleep until morning.
The cool night air hits my face as I step outside, and I pause, searching the night sky as I try to calm my racing thoughts. My feet start moving of their own accord, and before I know it, I'm heading to the bus stop.
I shouldn't be doing this. I should stay home, take care of Mom, be responsible. But the pull is too strong to resist. I need answers, and there's only one place I can get them.
As I board the bus, my heart hammers like it's trying to punch its way out of my body. Am I really going back to the penthouse? What if he's not there? What if he is? I'm not even sure which scenario terrifies me more.
The city lights blur past the window as we drive, and I try to steel myself for whatever comes next. I don't know what I'm walking into, but I know I can't turn back now. I need to see him, to understand why he’s done what he did. To understand the tangled emotions that reside within me.
The bus lurches to a stop, jolting me from my thoughts. I look up and realize I'm only a block away from Thorne's building. My heart races as I step off onto the sidewalk.
My legs feel shaky as I walk the final stretch. The doorman gives me a curious look as I approach. Damn, it’s stupid late, I realize. What was I thinking? People don’t visit at this time of night. It’s not George; he works the day shift, and I never left the apartment at night to be familiar with this guy, but he lets me in without question when I give him my name.
In the elevator, I stare at my reflection in the mirrored walls. I look a mess - hair disheveled, dark circles under my eyes. What am I even doing here?
But before I can change my mind, the doors slide open with a soft ding, and I hesitate for a moment before I step out into the hallway.
Then, far too soon, I’m standing in front of his door, hand raised to knock. This is my last chance to walk away. To go home and pretend none of this ever happened.
