And that’s what this place was. A damn cage.
If I were free, I’d be home. I’d have finished my tour. I’d be relaxing at the pool while Ani and Evan taught Ellis to swim. Klaus would be at my side while we watched our family.
Instead, I was stuck in the basement of Cole’s fucking cattery, waiting impatiently for him to return so I could clock him again.
This time, I’d rigged together a dictionary and a bottle of soap from the bathroom so that when he stepped into the room, the dictionary would drop from the table and the two chairs I’d put next to the door. I’d had to shred my bedsheets to make this plan actionable, but the general idea was to get his eyes with the soap so he was blinded by the pain. I’d break free and get the hell out of here.
The handle jingled, and I braced myself to run.
The door opened, and Cole came into the room. The book fell, knocking over the chairs and crashing into him. The soapwent off, but not at the right angle, since the chairs toppled. The white mess hit him in the chest as the chairs fell into him.
He grunted as he tripped and went sideways.
Good enough.
I rushed forward as he caught himself from going down completely. I ran through the doorway, straight up the stairs, and came crashing into the kitchen.
Not giving a damn that I was in my night gown yet, I rushed through the room and made it to the front door and pulled it open.
I’d just stepped outside, freedom in sight, when Cole’s arms wound around me and dragged me back in, kicking and screaming.
Immediately, he covered my mouth and kicked the front door closed.
I bit his hand, making him hiss and release me.
I turned and glared at him.
“You said you’d give me the two weeks,” he said, eyeing me.
“Fuck you,” I snarled. “I am going home.”
“You’re really not, Rosebud.”
I backed away from him. I’d lived in this house. I knew the exits. I knew the rooms. The layout.
“Don’t do it,” Cole murmured.
I darted away into the living room, him hot on my heels. Our old couch was still here. In fact, it looked like all the furniture was still here. Even pictures were still on the walls.
I put the couch between us.
“What will you do now?” he asked softly, a tiny smirk on his lips.
“Looks like you kept the furniture,” I said. “Did you keep the guns downstairs, too? Because if you did, I’m going to shoot you in the fucking dick, you asshole.”
He chuckled at that. “The guns have been relocated. You’ll have to put your pretty mouth on my dick instead.”
“You fucking wish.”
“I do,” he replied, his blue eyes sparkling.
I grabbed a decorative glass bowl off the side table and hurled it at him.
“Fuck,” he shouted as it nailed him in the shoulder, knocking him sideways.
I took off, racing upstairs to my old room. I’d throw myself off the balcony if I had to.
I slammed the bedroom door behind me and locked it before backing away.
