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“I don’t know where Milton is. I don’t have proof of anything they said either, I just know what I heard.” I finally finish telling them a condensed version of my story.
“That’s enough,” Rocco reassures me. His eyes focus on me, seeing more than I want him to, but he deserves to know it all. I’ll tell him when we are alone about Milton and what else happened.
I cover my mouth as I yawn, ready to be done with this, and as if he knows what I’m thinking and feeling, Rocco stands up and reaches a hand out for me. I take it and he helps me up.
“I’m taking her to a hotel, where she will be safe.” His voice is gravelly, as if he’s holding his emotions in check.
Geoffrey stands next and stops us. “She has a place. I’ve already arranged for a security detail to protect her as well.”
“I’m not sure.” I want to go with Rocco; I feel safe with him. He promised to protect me. Plus, I don’t really know Geoffrey. I have some deep feeling that I knew him, but I don’t know him as an adult.
“Ever, give us a moment.” Rocco directs me to the hall and then returns to the room. I hate that they aren’t including me in the conversation. I’m a grown woman, and now that I’m away from George and Carmen, I can take care of myself.
Can’t I?
Well, actually, no I can’t.
I have no money. I do have my ID now, thanks to Rocco getting my purse. I have no clothes. I look down at my uniform and cringe. It’s dirty from me hiding out and running through the streets to get away from Milton.
The door opens, but it isn’t Rocco who comes through first. It’s Geoffrey, along with Lincoln, Rocco’s friend. I look around them and see Rocco standing at the table, his hands fisted around the back of a chair, his head bowed. He won’t make eye contact with me.
“Come on, Guinevere, we’ll take you home.” Geoffrey reaches for me, but I scurry around him. I move toward the room where Rocco is still avoiding me. His body is tight and the chair rattles as he shakes.
“Why? I thought you were going to help me. Keep me safe? You said you would.” My voice pitches higher with each sentence. I can feel the panic taking over.
“Ever,” he groans, his head still bowed. “You need to go with them. You need to feel free and not trapped by me,” he grits out as he finally looks at me. His eyes are closed off, void of emotion. His jaw is locked tight. What does he mean trapped?
Free?
I’ve never been free. Do I want to be free of him?
“What? I don’t understand.” I move toward him, but he puts up his hand to stop me.
“No, Guinevere, go with them. You have your own home. You can do whatever you want.” He waves his muscular arm in a whatever motion.
“Then I want you,” I say as I move toward him again. I do want him. I don’t want anyone else, and he won’t take my freedom away from me. I know it in my gut, he won’t.
He moves back, putting the table between us. “Guinevere, you are free.” He storms out of the room, leaving me alone. I hold the tears and pain in, not wanting to show him how much he’s hurt me. Not wanting anyone to see me as the pathetic girl who hero worshipped the police officer who saved her. I don’t want them to see my broken heart.
I can’t and won’t allow someone else to abuse and mistreat me anymore.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes as I center myself. For years I’ve allowed people who I thought were my family to control, belittle, and abuse me.
I survived.
When I open my eyes, Geoffrey is standing there watching me. His eyes are soft and filled with pity.
“It’s for the best, bean.” He reaches a hand toward me; I decline it and move toward the exit. I leave the building with my head held high. I’m stronger than Rocco thinks.
Linc is waiting out front next to his SUV. I avoid his eyes and offered hand as I climb in without his help. I don’t want anyone’s pity.
The drive to the Upper East Side doesn’t take much time in the later hour. I keep my focus on where we are going. I’m not going to be stuck anywhere ever again. I will know the area I live and stay in from now on. This is an even nicer area than where I lived before.
The car comes to a stop, and the door is opened by a formally dressed doorman inside a covered pull up area off the main road. I hesitate for a moment. I never got to go through the main entrance at George and Carmen’s building. Even as a kid they had me use the service entrance.
I exit the SUV and step out onto the main sidewalk to look around. I look up the side of the multi-story modern structure with what looks like several terraces and clean lines. This building is newer. It had to have been built in the last five years.
“This is your place?” I look over at Geoffrey. He had said he was taking me home. I assumed he meant my parents’ place, not his. I’ll just have him take me to a hotel so I don’t inconvenience him.
“No, this is yours.”
“But how? This is a newer construction.”
“I sold your parents’ place and bought you this one as soon as I found out the architect was going to build it. He was one of your father’s favorite architects and a good friend of his. I never gave up on finding you.” Geoffrey directs me to the door the doorman has been quietly standing next to. “You’re in one of the penthouses; it’s somewhat furnished, enough to get you started. I put your parents’ stuff in storage. You can go through it and use whatever you want or sell it, it’s all yours,” he says as we move through the lobby to an elevator that requires him to pass a card over a sensor. “Only those with cards or buzzed through by security are allowed to go up. Every visitor will be announced to you or will have a card to access the penthouse.” He holds up the card as he explains.
I stare at my reflection in the shiny doors of the elevator when it closes. I’m dirty and disheveled. A voice that sounds like Pru’s clamors in my head. See, this is why he turned you down. Messy Guinny. I cringe and shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts. I’m not going to let them continue to take up space in my head or heart.
“I’ll stay tonight so you aren’t alone.”
“Thank you,” I say softly.
