Page 18 of Prince of Wrath

I sit in the chair beside her bed because I am, if nothing else, a man of my word. Every inch of me burns to touch her. I don’t. My phone keeps lighting up in my pocket. Investors. Lawyers. My mother. Nate. Everyone’s hungry for me to show up and feed them. That is the relentless truth. The only reason I have ever been useful to everyone is so they could bite where they needed, take their share, use it, ask again, spend it, again and again. I ignore them. As for my business, the true people I care about are my employees, and I will make sure to reassure them tomorrow. Counting her breathing, I tune everything else out, lean back, close my eyes, and count.

One.

Two.

Three.

The rise and fall of her lungs, striking me three times in the chest. As mercy, proof that she’s still here, and a punishment. To be here yet out of touch. Out of reach, afraid of me.

Tomorrow I will do better.

Tomorrow has to be better.

We are at the bottom now, both of us. Crawling from the pit of hell, looking for each other.

Like my father used to say, sometimes the only way out of the fire, is through.

Chapter Seven

Chapter 7

Ella

Where was home now?

Tristan drove me to his house after the doctor released me with a good luck, a sad smile, and the name card of a therapist he highly recommended. I watched Tristan pack my bag with the clothes I had worn last night, since someone working for him had brought me new ones that morning. Denim jeans and a white tank top with a light blue cardigan, and white sneakers. I looked the part. The human one, I mean. Someone across the street seeing me would not be able to tell that I had been held hostage for days. No one could even suspect the branding of a V, the size of my hand, on my shoulder. Nor that I had slept on the floor in my underwear, eating with my bare hands. I looked tired, but…normal. Things were coming back to me, from this life, the one I was living, not the one stuck in a loop in my head. Dad. Anja. My job. My reading list that I was now so late on. I hadn't checked my phone yet. Knowing I was about to give answers I didn't have to people I cared about, or needed to be accountable to, wasn't a sweet perspective.

Pressing the side button of the phone, I watch it come alive and then slid it face down on Tristan’s thick, expensive, glossy living room table. It wasn't my first time there, yet it felt like new eyes had been grafted to my face, stapled on with force, making it impossible to see life from the same perspective. This house that I had fallen in sync with on my one night there before being taken was buzzing and spinning and wide, too wide, offering places for monsters to lurk in the shadows and trap me. Just like that, in the span of a few days, my whole world had shifted. Sitting on the long beige sofa, in front of walls of books lining the chimney, I notice specks of dust flying in the air, pierced by the morning light. Flying. Freely.

Yesterday, he reached out to me, and I backed away. Since then, he shifted from calm to agitated, talking more than his usual composed nature allowed. Offering me water four times and a blanket to rest, flexing and unflexing his hands each time I believed he wanted to touch me, which seemed to be…permanent. Steps come from the kitchen as he comes closer to me, now changed into a navy suit, white shirt, and a dark tie. The ensemble is sharp, handsome, and mesmerizing. An armor, perhaps, one I want to be the only one to know the man behind. Pointing at him, then at the floor with two hands, followed by the swift motion of an exit, I sign to him. You should go. Tristan hasn't signed back yet, and it pains me more than I can admit.

“I…” He runs a palm over his jaw, now perfectly neat and shaved with that aftershave that does things to me I have never felt before. “I need to drive you to your dad first.” he reminds me. “Matt will be there with other men I hired to make sure nothing goes wrong. You won’t even see them. They’ll be…outside, in other cars.”

“I just want to see my dad.”

“I know.” His hand clenches midair, trying to reach out to me. I bite the nail of my index finger.

“What if… What if he’s mad at me? What if Mara fed him lies and…” I stop, anxiety creeping in. “He’s been there for days without a clear explanation. He must be lost and…”

“The medical staff assured me he was okay, Ella. A little disoriented, but he understands something major happened, and I made sure he was informed that you were coming back as soon as possible.”

“Does he know?”

“No…I didn’t think you wanted me to tell him his daughter had been kidnapped. There’s something else, Ella… Technically, he doesn’t have to be there. We’re walking a tight legal line right now. If you want him to stay there, away from your stepmother, you’d have to become his legal guardian.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“I can’t even tell you how many times I tried to imagine scenarios to get out of there, and yes, at some point, I thought about this, but Mara won’t ever let me do that.”

“And that’s why I have the best lawyers in town.” He looks at me, long gone the sweet boyfriend, and here is the businessman again. “I’ll start the paperwork. If we wait for Mara to agree, we could be stuck in an unfavorable position.” He looks down, pained for me, and I know he wishes to carry it all by himself, and it only makes me love him more. “God, Ella, I need to touch you. Even just holding your hand would make this whole thing bearable,” he mutters, a flash of agony dancing on his face. He shakes his head, blinking. “I’m sorry, pardon me. I don’t know what got into me. I didn’t mean to pressure you, sweetheart. I just…” My fingers snap twice.

“I miss touching you too.”

“You…do?”

“Each time I try, I see…him,” I admit. “I need to talk to this therapist and make it all go away. That’s no way to live.” I look away.