I can’t make out what the girls are saying; the door is shut, and their whispered tones are all talking over the top of each other. I stare up the staircase at the wallpaper peeling off the walls and all the damp patches. Surely these living conditions aren’t safe? Suddenly, the door bursts open and a pretty, petite brunette dashes out of the room, crying her heart out. She’s followed by Gracie, who stands in front of me with a solemn look on her face.
“You have a deal.” She spits on the palm of her hand and holds it out to me, and while I ignore the urge to lift her off her feet, spin her around, and kiss her, I attempt to gain some trust and do things her way. Spitting on my own hand, I grab hold of hers and firmly shake it.
“You won’t regret this,” I assure her, surprised at the huge sense of relief I feel to have her onboard.
“You better not make me,” she warns. “I’ll go get my stuff.” She looks sad and deflated as she heads up the stairs to pack, and something that feels a lot like empathy has me feeling a little guilty.
I turn my head to the door frame where the redhead and another girl both stand, arms crossed, looking at me as if they want me to burst into flames.
“You know…” Red steps up to me. “...I’ve gotten away with murder three times. If you hurt her, I’ll happily try my luck with a fourth.”
“Hurting your friend is not my intention, despite us getting off on the wrong foot. The only outcome I want from this is for everyone to get what they need.”
“And what about the motherless child the two of you are planning to create? Do you think they will have what they need? What will you tell them when they ask about their mother?” The other, softer-spoken girl poses her question.
“Truth is, I don’t know. I guess that’s something Gracie and I will decide between ourselves over the coming months.” I’ve not given that subject much thought; to be honest, I haven't givenanyof this much thought. I’m acting purely on instinct.
“Please don’t hurt her, Mr. Ravenshaw. She may appear tough; she’s put herself back together well enough, but once something gets broken, it’s never as it used to be.” The girl moves on, heading in the same direction as the girl who was crying, and I ponder on what she just said, all while being scorned at by the redhead.
“Do you mind waiting in the car while I say my goodbyes?” Gracie returns downstairs ten minutes later, carrying a battered suitcase.
“Of course.” Taking it from her, I lower my head to the redhead and head out to join my driver.
I’m aware that there's probably a back exit she could use to escape, but something about the sadness in her eyes makes me believe that she’s accepted her fate. She’s committed to this sacrifice, not just for her, but for them.
My driver, whose name I’m yet to remember, eagerly hops out of his seat, reaching out to take the suitcase from me, but I shake my head and make my way around the car to open the boot myself. There seems to be something satisfactory aboutdoing things for her myself. After securing her suitcase, I stand beside the car, waiting for her to come out, and just when I start to wonder if I've made a careless mistake in trusting her, the door opens, and she steps outside.
A sigh leaves my chest as she comes down the stairs to stand beside me on the pavement. “You okay?” I check, opening the car door for her to get inside.
“We’re going to be pretending many things, Jack, but let's not pretend you care.” Her words cut like a knife as she lowers her head and gets inside the car.
GRACE
Iworry about Polly as I finish unpacking my things in the room that's been turned into a prison cell. Talking to the girls and explaining what opportunity had been put on the table for us was harder than I thought it would be. While Sophia and Selena had their reservations, they took on board what I said and respected my decision. Polly begged me to refuse; she was furious at me for even considering it. I hate the idea of her being mad at me, but what Jack is offering is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for us all to have a better life. Far from here and far from Jonah.
A gentle knock comes from the other side of the door as I place my empty suitcase in the bottom of the wardrobe and slam it shut.
“Go away,” I call back. I’m not in the mood for him or anyone else right now. I need some time alone to accept for myself what I’ve agreed to do.
“Dinner will be ready in half an hour. I could ask for it to be held off?” His voice comes back calm and friendly
“I don’t want dinner. I’m not hungry.” I sit on the edge of the bed and close my eyes. I need to get my head straight, but theproblem is, if I think about all this for too long, I become more convinced of how insane it is.
Instead, I should distract myself with other thoughts. Like where me and the girls will go when we have all that money and our freedom.
“We need to talk; I was hoping over dinner we cou–”
“IsaidI’m not hungry,” I repeat, jumping when the door bursts open and he marches inside. It’s hard to ignore how hot he looks when he’s angry, but I manage to keep a straight posture to ensure I show no weakness.
“You have to eat. Three meals a day…at least. It’s part of the arrangement,” he tells me, towering over me.
“Well, I don’t recall signing a contract or seeing any terms and conditions,” I strike back, turning my head so I don’t have to look at him. I find myself permanently drawn to his lips, despite the fact that he annoys the hell out of me.
“Let's not forget the reason you are here. You're going to need your strength.”
“I’m not pregnant yet,” I remind him.
“No…” He takes my chin between his thumb and finger, slowly turning my head to look up at him. “But I’m going to be relentless in ensuring that you are,” he promises, forcing me to swallow the lump in my throat as my pelvis clenches.
