“Ashland.”
He looks up at the sound of his name. I don't even know why I said it. What do I want from him?
“I…” I swallow. “How do I know you'll come back?”
The question surprises me as much as it seems to surprise him. I hate the idea that he took me, but being alone in a place like this indefinitely…
His expression softens. “I'll always come back, Bianca. That's a promise.”
Then he's moving through the cabin, and I'm rooted to the spot, listening to the sounds of him securing the place. He walks over and takes me by the elbow. “Sit down a minute, please.”
I hear the click of locks, the thud of something heavy being moved. He's thorough and methodical, as every exit, every window, every possible escape route is secured.
Finally, he comes back to where I'm sitting.
“There's food in the fridge and books on the shelves. I'll bring back what the cat needs. He's alright for now?”
I nod. “We'll make do for now. He's adaptable, for the time being.”
Kind of like me.
Ashland's eyes darken. “Now you won’t do anything stupid, will you?”
“And if I do?”
Why did I say that?
He winks at me. Actually fucking winks, and my heart tumbles in my chest becausewhy is that so hot?
“Then you'll answer to me when I get back, won't you? Trust me, I don't know if you want that, do you?”
“But you said?—”
“I won’t hurt you. But you might be pleasantly surprised by your response to a little well-placed discipline.”
He moves to the front door, and I follow him, keeping my distance. I watch as he pulls it open, revealing trees. Morning light filters through, and I can hear birds singing.
Freedom is right there. So close.
But he's blocking the doorway—all six-foot-whatever of him, tattooed and dangerous, watching me like he knows exactly what I'm thinking.
“Behave yourself, sweet girl.”
Then he's gone.
I hear a lock click, then another, then something else—like a bar or bolt sliding into place.
And I'm alone.
For the first time since he took me, I'm completely, utterly alone.
I count to sixty in my head. Once, twice, three times.
Ten minutes pass.
And when I'm positive he's gone, I spring into action.
I am gettingoutof here.
