Page 7

With a heaviness unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my bones and muscles, I lift my head and examine the property to ensure there’s no one nearby. Four guards are currently on duty, but knowing we’re supposed to be out on Garrett’s boat for the evening, they’re probably holed up in the pool house, drinking and playing cards instead of paying attention to their surroundings. My gaze shifts toward the nearest security camera. Immediately, my stomach knots. I’m just outside its range, but one step too far toward the back of the house and I’ll be exposed.

I need to get the hell out of here, but I can’t leave without my backpack. The one I’ve kept hidden with everything I would ever need to survive if I ever had the opportunity to try to escape.

Even though this isn’t Garrett’s primary address, it’s the house we’d spend the most time in. Years ago, I realized that if I was ever going to run, I couldn’t risk being unprepared just because we happened to be at one of our other properties. So I packed a bag for each house and hid them where only I knew to look.

This one is waiting for me beneath the floorboards in my closet.

And I can’t leave without it.

Rainwater drips from my hair and down my neck as I crouch lower in the shadows. Every second spent here is a second I risk being spotted. My eyes catch on the lattice beneath my balcony, and I crawl across the rocky surface, scraping my palms in the process. Once I reach it, I stand before it and grip the sides. My body feels too heavy. Too tired. I close my eyes, inhaling and exhaling.

He sold you to a monster.

You need to run and never look back.

I tighten my hold and climb. Halfway up, my foot slips and a gasp tears from my throat as my body rolls sideways. For one horrifying second, I dangle there, suspended in the air, one wrong move from falling.

My heart stops.

I cling to the lattice with everything I have left.

No. I can’t fall.

Not now.

Not after everything I’ve been through to get to this point.

Slowly, I find my footing again and continue climbing one steady movement at a time.

I reach the banister and hook my legs over the railing, dragging myself across before dropping onto the tiles below.

Everything hurts.

Every muscle screams for rest.

But I can’t.

Not yet.

I press my palms to the ground and push myself up, my thighs trembling, my calves tightening.

I wrap my fingers around the gold handles on the French doors and push them down, pulling the doors open. I step inside and quietly shut the doors behind me. Warmth hits me, invoking a violent shiver throughout my entire body. My soaked dress clings to my skin, weighing me down. I immediately strip out of it and move to my closet.

There’s not much to choose from that isn’t an evening gown or something Garrett would select for me to wear in public. So I grab a pair of underwear and my only pair of jeans, pull them on quickly, then a bra, a white cotton T-shirt, and a grey hoodie.

I crouch down, and with difficulty, I wedge my fingers into the narrow gap between the floorboards and pull one out of its place. Relief fills me when I see my backpack exactly where I left it. My fingers close around the straps, and I pull the bag free. Quickly, I shove my wet clothes into the gap and replace the board, ensuring everything looks exactly the way I found it.

I slide my arms through the straps and adjust the bag over my shoulders. After slipping into a pair of sneakers, I pause in the center of the room. My eyes sweep over the space, my chest tightening. This was one of my cages these past few years. A place where I spent my time waiting in fear. Never knowing what punishment would await me.

I step toward my bed, and my hand reaches out, my fingers gliding over the cold chains that are secured to each corner of the bedframe. A lump forms in my throat, my eyes blurring with tears.

Turning away, I cross the room and reach the door, slowly twisting the handle. Peering into the hallway, I look left and right. Only silence greets me.

I move for the stairs and swiftly make my way down, seeing my freedom in the form of the front door before me.

My lips curve up.

I’m so close to—