“Has Nick told you what he wants me to do yet? I could just stay here and help.” I wonder if Nick comes here to visit often, if he would want to see me when he did.
The honest question is, would I want him to visit me? He’s an asshole who is holding me prisoner, but I find myself heavily conflicted with how I feel about him. Even if he scares the life out of me. There’s something about him that I can’t quite figure out.
He’s a gorgeous asshole. Drop. Dead. Gorgeous—get a grip, Maya.He saved your life and shipped you off. He’s not interested in you.
My internal monologue never fails to put me back in my place. Nick is obviously out of my league. His type don’t go for women who look like me. My stringy brown hair and murky brown eyes are not attractive. My skin is too pale, and I definitely don’t move with grace and confidence like the women seen in pictures with rich and powerful men.
Let me not forget the aura of danger that drips from his every fiber. I’ve lived my entire life around dangerous men, but rich, powerful, and dangerous is a level I am not familiar with.
I think of the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips when I told him I didn’t need his charity. My heart rate picks up as a chill runs down my spine. This might be some kind of sick game for him, and I should’ve stabbed him with my fork when I had the chance.
“He hasn’t said, but if I had to guess it’ll be some kind of office work. He has enough staff on the farm.”
My attention snaps back to Ethan. I almost forgot about the conversation I started with him.
“What kind of office work? What do y’all do anyway?” I tuck the basket of fragile eggs close to my side as I walk. I don’t have any office skills. Maybe office is some kind of code for something.
Every time I see Nick, he’s in a suit but that doesn’t always mean he has a typical, stuffy office job. His persona screams crime boss and I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, which would be not at all.
“Nick is a lawyer, and I mostly work with computers and security systems.” He pauses for a second like he wants to say more but stops himself. “We have plenty of eggs, let’s go cook breakfast.” He eyes the basket clutched tightly to my side but doesn’t say anything.
In the kitchen, Ethan lays the eggs in a strainer and instructs me on how to wash them. He gets the chicken out from yesterday and places it on a cutting board.
“What are we making?” I thought the chicken was for lunch.
“Fried chicken and homemade waffles. A southern delicacy.” He cuts some strips from the chicken.
“My favorite,” a deep voice growls from the doorway. I don’t even have to look to know who that voice belongs to.
My brain goes fuzzy and I break out into a cold sweat. What’s he doing here? I thought he wasn’t coming for twomore weeks. Shit. Shit. Shit. I keep my head down, focusing on washing the eggs to keep from having to acknowledge him.
“How are you adjusting to the farm life, Emily?” My skin prickles, becoming all too aware of the man who is now standing next to me.
So much for wondering if he would come visit me, I’m too afraid to even look at him. I readjust my stance in attempt to appear more confident even though I’m shaking on the inside. I have to learn to stop being so afraid.
“My name is Maya. You said I could keep my identity here.” My mind scrambles to keep its focus and maintain a steady level of breathing. I may pass out if I hold my breath, my lungs already struggle to keep up with the oxygen demands of my racing heart.
“I did, didn’t I?” He smirks. “Well then, Maya, how are you adjusting?” His tone is surprisingly mellow as he slowly approaches me.
It would only be a matter of seconds before my brain decides it’s lights out. Breathe, slow, steady. In and out—just breathe. The smell of his aftershave hits my nostrils. It’s a delicious deep woodsy scent. My head swirls a little, he’s intoxicating.
That smirk—holy shit. My face, neck, and throat simultaneously flush with heat. “Fine,” I squeak.
“How long are you going to wash that egg for? I would say it’s clean by now.” He crosses his arms and leans closer to me. His presence unnerves me so much I didn’t even realize I’ve been wiping the same one for so long.
“Don’t be a dick,” Ethan chimes in.
“I’m just asking a simple question.” Nick shrugs and walks towards the island where Ethan is.
In a way I’m happy that he walked away but part of me is left wishing he was still standing next to me, even if I can’t seem to get my shit together.
“Has she met Mama yet?” Nick’s talking to Ethan, but I catch myself trying to tune in on their conversation. Somehow hearing him refer to his mother as “Mama” makes him seem less threatening. Like a young boy who wants someone to meet his best friend.
“I thought Maya might need a few days to settle in. The farm is a lot to take in. I was introducing her little by little.”
It has been a lot in a sense that there’s always something going on or something to do, but not overwhelming or bad. I’ve fallen in love with it. My whole life I wanted to spend time with animals but was never allowed to have one after what happened to the one pet Mama tried to have.
“Come with me, Maya. If you’re going to be staying here, you need to be acquainted with everyone. Ethan will finish breakfast,” Nick orders. Mr. Totalitarian is back.
