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She listened for the sound of Deacon and Cole talking and walked toward the front entrance of the mansion. An overpowering chandelier hung in the foyer. In front of her was the front door.
There was no one here. No one to see her. No one to stop her.
She slowly picked up the train, weighted by the intricate beading work. Was she actually considering making a run for it? Could she run through the front door to her freedom? How long would it take for them to notice she was gone?
There was no way she would make it far in these heels. She looked to her right. Then her left. The house was quiet. She slid off her shoes, feeling tiny without them to give her extra height. She hiked the dress to her hip, using the open slit in the side as an advantage. She tiptoed toward the massive set of doors.
She didn’t know where she would go on the other side. With each step she took she tried to think of how this could pan out. Would Cal track her down? Would he punish her for ruining his payment
plan? What if Deacon and Cole had an angry side she hadn’t picked up on? Would she have to serve a longer term if they caught her?
There wasn’t time to hash out every scenario. It was now or never.
She reached the handle. It was embellished and carved. Her fingers rested on the design. On the other side was the dark night. Night that offered a chance to run. A chance to escape. Night that held more fear. Held retaliation. A life that would never be certain. She pressed her forehead into the planes of the door.
She heard footsteps behind her and jumped. She quickly maneuvered away from the door.
“Going somewhere?”
It was Cole.
She plastered a smile on her face and turned to face him. “I-I had a cramp in my foot from the shoes,” she lied. “I was walking it out in the foyer. The marble is cool on my feet.”
He bent toward the floor and retrieved her heels. They looked tiny in his hands.
“Let me help.”
He strolled toward her and knelt at her feet. Abby felt her throat tighten. She fought back the tears. The regret sank into her shoulders and worked through her body. Tonight’s freedom was gone. She waited too long and let the obstacles paralyze her instead of taking a chance. It was her own fault. She blinked back the first tear.
Cole touched her ankle, raising it from the floor. “How is this?” He slid it into the shoe and then assisted her other foot while she used his shoulder as a balance barre.
She nodded. “I think it’s fine now.”
He grinned, rising slowly from the marble. “You look stunning, Abby.”
It happened involuntarily, but she shivered. It was the good kind. It felt tingly and electric. She wanted to slap herself. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He was her warden, not some kind of prince.
“Thank you.” Her eyes darted away from him, but landed on Deacon strolling toward them.
He was drop-dead gorgeous in a fitted tux. She inhaled sharply as his eyes caught hers.
“You are sexy as sin, sweetheart.” He reached for her hand, drawing her wrist toward his face. She blushed when he turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her palm. She was worried this time they both saw her shiver.
“Shall we?” Cole offered his arm. Deacon was quick to follow on her other side.
Abby let them lead her to the dining room, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that they eyed her as if they wished she was tonight’s dessert.
7
Abby
She didn’t know if she could eat. The only thing that made any sense was to douse the night in alcohol. Lots of it.
Cole sat on one side of her and Deacon on the other. They acted as if this a normal dinner. There was nothing normal about it. Abby was determined they wouldn’t forget it.
She wasn’t here voluntarily. Only moments ago she was scouting a way out of this palace prison. The hand-laid stone and the imported glass didn’t make it a home.
“Do you like your room?” Cole asked.
