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Now what?
I go back to the corridor, listening hard. I can’t hear a thing. If the place is filled with guards, they’re all out of sight. The carpet is so thick it would deaden their footsteps anyway.
There is a camera high on the wall at the far end of the corridor. I spot another. And then another. The more I look, the more I see. Is he watching me right now? If he’s not, one of his men probably is. I need to move fast to stand a chance.
I try a couple of doors. All locked apart from the bedroom I was just in. I go down the stairs, my heart pounding. A few doors are open down here. I find the parlor I was taken to when I arrived. A dining room, laid out ready for two to eat. The door through to the kitchen is locked. I can hear chopping and talking, the scent of Italian herbs wafting through to me.
All the windows I try are locked and shuttered. I can’t find a back door anywhere.
I end up back in the parlor. I pick up my sketchbook and cling onto it, the last hint of normality I have.
Ever since I first left the city, it’s been like I’ve fallen into an ever deepening river of insanity, swept along by the current with no say in what happens to me.
As if I’d marry someone I don’t know. Get pregnant just because he tells me to? Madness.
I need to get out of here. I don’t care how it happens. I can’t stay. If I do, that whispering voice in the back of my mind might win. It’s a voice that says being married to such an insanely hot guy wouldn’t be so bad, not when he makes me tremble each time he looks at me, makes my insides heat up in a way I hate.
I have to leave before that voice gets any louder.
But how?
I hear a slight movement behind me. I spin around to find Marco in the doorway, staring at me. “Don’t do that,” I snap at him. “I told you it scares me.”
“Dinner is ready,” he says. “You should change into dry things first.”
“You should let me go.”
“Get used to being here, Anna. It’ll make your life easier.”
“Go to hell.”
He walks up to me, suddenly seeming about two feet taller than his already substantial height. “You will learn that I am not a man you should disobey,” he says, his voice a quiet rumble that’s more threatening than any yelling.
Somewhere inside me, I feel something. It’s the same thing I felt when his hand touched mine back at the bar. Now? I think to myself. Why now?
This is not the time to feel like that. How can I be scared and aroused at the same time? It’s not normal.
I refuse to display my churning emotions to his intense gaze. I stand as tall as I can manage, looking him straight in the eye. “You can’t keep me here forever,” I tell him.
“I have no intention of doing that. I told you, this is a job. When it is done, you will be paid and be free to go wherever the wind takes you.”
“And I’m supposed to just take you at your word?”
“I am not a liar.”
“You got me here under false pretenses.”
“I did not give you all the details of the job. That is not the same as lying to you. Now go get changed. It is time for dinner.”
“I wouldn’t eat with you if you paid me a million dollars.”
His eyes flash fire. “Then you’ll starve.” He marches out of the room. I hear a door slam a moment later. I’m alone again. Just me, my sketchbook, and my heart, now thumping so fast it’s definitely going to burst out of my chest at any moment.
The worst thing is, my mind is ripping in two. I hate him and I’m falling for him. I’m clearly messed up, but then that’s no real surprise. I’ve been messed up all my life.
Twelve
Marco
