He has the face of a fallen angel and a body made for sinning — a very dangerous and troubling combination.
After getting an eyeful of his backside, he stops in front of a door, inputs a code that I can't see, only hear, and then steps inside.
The room is bathed in darkness, but Jackson quickly flicks on a light, illuminating the space. He carries me over to a large bed and plops me unceremoniously down on it as my eyes immediately start darting around, assessing my situation. The room is sparsely decorated with only the essentials and three doors — one to a bathroom, one to what I'm assuming is a closet, and one to my freedom. The door we just came through currently closes on its own, and I hear a telltale beeping sound indicating that I'm locked in here with some sort of code I'm not privy to.
There are no windows; only two skylights in the ceiling above. It's still dark outside, but I have no idea what time it is or even what day it is since my captor drugged me not once, but twice.
I wriggle as he begins to untie my feet. I don't kick out at him even though I should. It felt good when I kneed him in the balls, and I find myself really wanting to do it again the first chance I get.
How dare he kidnap me when I had everything worked out and a plan in place? Hell, I could be back in Russia by now, back to my family…my little sister.
I scowl at Jackson as he loosens the ropes around my hands, but doesn't untie them completely.
"That should be loose enough for you to get out of within a couple of minutes. Just stay here and try not to destroy anything until I come back. I'll bring you something to eat soon."
He stands and moves towards the door. "Wait!" I call after him, but he doesn't stop or turn back. He inputs a code and leaves, the locking and beeping sound piercing the silent room.
Jumping off the bed, I race to the door and try the door handle. It doesn't budge. "Shit!" I cry out in frustration. I'm locked in here with some kind of keypad.
Not willing to admit defeat that easily, I try several codes before giving up entirely. It would be a million to one shot that I could actually guess the code, and I'm not going to sit here wasting any more time.
Directing my attention to my loosely bound wrists, I manage to break out of the rope in record time. I throw the rope down in frustration with more force than necessary before I move to the other two doors on the other side of the room. The far door is open and is clearly the bathroom given that I can see part of the shower inside.
Wrenching open the only closed door, I realize it's a walk-in closet. Considering I'm only wearing sweatpants and a shirt, I'm happy to see that I have the option of at least having some clean clothes.
I rummage through the shelves. The undergarments aren't the right size but may fit. The shoes are two sizes too small, so they won't work at all. Reaching up to the racks above me, my hands grab tag after tag. The clothes aren't in my size either, but I can make do. Everything will be a little tight and short on my tall, thin frame; however, I'm not going to start complaining. When you come from nothing, you take everything that's given to you as a blessing, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to others.
Grabbing a dress off the hanger, a pair of panties and a bra that I think will fit me the best out of all my options, I retreat out of the closet and into the bathroom next to it.
As I stare at the flowery-smelling shampoos, lotions and soaps, a thought stops me dead in my tracks. A girl was kept in this room before me. That would explain all the clothes in the closet. They obviously aren't for me since everything is in the wrong size.
I think of the girl they talked about earlier. What was her name again?
"Adeline," I say out loud, slowly, remembering what Jackson had said.
Did they keep her prisoner here too? If so, for how long? And where is she now?
The giant had said thattheytook her, but who's they? Her friends? Her family?
Growing more and more confused and frustrated, I growl and slam my clothes down on the countertop by the sink. I'm going to take a shower, regroup and try to figure out how the hell to get out of here.
I'm making it my mission to escape as soon as possible. I waited too damn long to get out of one prison only to be trapped in another.
And nothing and no one is going to stand in my way of freedom.
CHAPTER 8
JACKSON
AFTER I GATHERED as many of the staff that I could — the ones that were still alive, that is — we turned a spare room in the east wing of the mansion into a makeshift hospital.
The room had been thoroughly sterilized under Maria's supervision. Maria, who is our head housekeeper and also our oldest and most trusted employee, had managed to stay alive during the raid by hiding in the kitchen pantry.
Maria said the men who attacked were solely focused on Lucien and Adeline. Some of the staff was murdered because they intervened or were merely in the way of the siege.
With the staff's help, we cut Lucien out of his clothes, cleaned him up as best we could and rolled his naked body onto a clean bed. It had been a while since I'd seen Lucien's scars on his back, and the sight of them actually had one of the maids gasping in fright and making the sign of a cross in front of her.
Yeah, my cousin's been through a lot of shit in his lifetime — a horrific childhood that left him scarred not only physically but mentally, ultimately giving him a unique set of phobias, the kind you only read about in medical journals or hear about on TV.
