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“Because this room is yours. And yours alone. I don’t have the passcode. My face won’t work to open the door. It’s only yours.”
“What?”
“Enter a passcode.”
She does, and the door opens. I turn around and push her inside. And then she stares in awe at the room I had Westcott decorate for her. It mirrors mine in many ways but has soft shades of grey and more turquoise that gives it a slightly more feminine feel.
She turns back to me, and I can see water in her eyes.
“There’s more than just this room.”
“More?”
“Yes, you asked for your freedom. I’m giving you all I can give you.”
I walk over to the bed where the electronics and wallet are lying.
“Your phone,” I say, handing her a brand new cell phone.
She stares at it like it’s a foreign object. But then she never did own a cell phone before to my knowledge. She didn’t have the money to own something most people take for granted.
“My number is already programmed into it,” I say.
She opens the contacts and smiles. “Giant dick, really?”
I shrug. “I figured it would make you smile.”
“And how am I programmed into your phone?”
I wink at her. “Stingray.” I took the name Zeke gave to her.
She shakes her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I also got you a laptop in case you decide you need to start googling porn or something. That’s all laptops are good for.”
She giggles, running her hand over the shiny metal that’s more expensive than the entire trailer she used to live in.
“And these are your credit cards,” I say opening the wallet.
“I don’t need credit cards. I don’t want to spend your money.”
“You won’t be spending my money; you will be spending your money.”
“I don’t have any money.”
I suck in a breath. Not wanting to say the next words, but knowing I need to. “Yes, you do. I got ten million dollars from Milo…from selling you.”
Her face stiffens, and her eyes turn red.
“I know, you will hate me for the rest of your life for that one. And you should. I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I’m saying I don’t want the money. I originally was going to use it to give to Rowan to pay for him helping you to escape, but he didn’t want the money. The money is yours.”
“I don’t want the money either.”
“It can get you your freedom. You will never have to work. Or you can use the money to do something good, start a business, anything.”
She frowns, staring at the wallet.
I’m not going to let her worry about the money. That will be a battle for another day. For now, I just want her to enjoy the little bit of freedom I can give her.
