There was one issue, though. Even if she fully got the window open, how was she getting down the side of the building?
She half-slid out of the window, peering around. The house was made of a light stone. It was prettier than she’d expected. It was also pretty hard to scale. There were no footholds at all to support her.
She was going to need rope.
Suddenly, she realized what a precarious position she was in, bent over out the window. What if she slipped?
She’d land on her head.
Then get off the windowsill!
Yeah. One slight problem. She couldn’t manage to get herself back into the bedroom. She was still weak from being ill.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“What the fuck?” someone said behind her before hands landed on her hips and she was pulled back through the window.
After a few deep breaths to stop her shaking, she glanced up into Jared’s stern face.
Oops.
“What do you think you are doing?” he asked in a low voice.
He looked like he wanted to yell at her. Maybe it would be best if he did yell. That would release all the tension she could see in his body.
“Well?” he asked.
“Um, would you believe that I was checking on the temperature to see what I should wear?” she asked.
He ran his gaze over her white pants and pale blue soft knit top. This thing was like being hugged all the time, it was so soft and cuddly.
“You’re already dressed. Or, if you weren’t sure, you could have walked outside.”
“How can I walk outside when I’m locked in here?”
Jared stared at her for a long moment. “The door wasn’t locked.”
“It . . . it wasn’t? So, I could just leave at any time?”
Why hadn’t she checked the door?
Was it because you wanted to stay here? Because you don’t actually want to leave?
Shit.
“I didn’t want you to feel like a prisoner. But all of the doors to outside as well as the windows have alarms that send alerts to our phones.”
“So I can’t leave?”
“You can move around the house, but no, you cannot leave until I know you’re safe. Why were you hanging out the window like that?”
She remained quiet, knowing better than to say anything. If he knew the truth . . . what would he do?
Angie swallowed heavily as she watched him.
Jared held out a hand to her and she stared down at it. Fear flooded her and she breathed through it.
If he hurt her, she’d find a way to get revenge. She was no one’s doormat or punching bag anymore.
