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CHAPTER TWELVE
Aurora
It’s been three days since I’ve seen Lennon. I haven’t seen him at dinner, so I don’t think he’s here. He let his guard down slightly when we were in that stripper room, and I was hoping to get more of that. The longer I’m here, the more anxious I get about ever having an opportunity to escape. I didn’t hear the lock engage on the other side of the door after dinner. I want to test it, but I will likely have one chance to make a run for it. I can’t tip them off if they forgot to lock me in for the night. I will wait until around midnight and hope that’s long enough for everyone to be in bed. They start their morning early, so I’m banking on it. I know I’m also chancing that someone remembers and double back to lock me in before then, but I have no choice but to wait.
Time drags on as I watch the clock for three hours. Once it’s ten minutes until escape time, I change into a black sweatsuit and tennis shoes. I will need to be light on my feet but quick. When the time hits midnight, I blow out a cleansing breath and test the door, turning the knob slowly. To my relief, it opens. I only open it wide enough to squeeze through. I was careful to turn off the lights in my room so that I wouldn’t introduce any new light into the hall. I ease the door closed behind me, ensuring I don’t make a sound. I tiptoe down the stairs into the darkness, quiet but swift. I haven’t been to the East Wing, but I suspect that would be the easiest to escape from since that’s the forbidden area. The downside is I don’t know my way around on that side.
I hug the walls as I round every corner, looking for any movement. I don’t know how, but I manage to find my way to the back of the house without being discovered. The backyard, if you can even call it that, is lit with so much light. The yard is aligned with neatly manicured trees, vines, a beautiful pool, and a stone pathway. I realize two problems. One, what if the alarm sounds when I open the door? What would be the response time? How long do I have before I’m tackled and punished? Two, if I gain access to the outside, how do I go undiscovered with all that freaking light?
Just as I’m about to open the back patio doors and make a blind run for it, I catch sight of a window ajar in the near distance. I only noticed it from the light reflecting directly off it, which is a serious risk of being seen. On the other hand, if the window is already partly pushed outward, an alarm shouldn’t sound from me squeezing my body through.I hope.
I take another cleansing breath and just go for it. I don’t have time to overanalyze my choice. Once my body makes contact with the cemented patio, I roll away from the direct light. I’ve found one darkened area behind some hedges. So far the odds have been in my favor. I peer around the gardens, but I don’t see anyone. In the distance far beyond the trees, I see a non-gated area. This left side is slightly less lit and will have to do. I’m about to make a run for it when I hear voices to my right. Men’s voices. Sounds like just two. I cling to the side of the house between two hedges, hoping not to get caught. I’ve come this far. The men get closer, but then they stop just short of reaching where I’m hidden.
“Lachlan says we only have to be here a short bit longer. Lennon is nowhere near the man his father was. He and his incompetent brothers don’t know shit. Now taking this Valentini girl will get us killed.”
My ears perk up when I hear them refer to me. I want to get a look at their faces, but I know that would be foolish.
“Maybe we should go to her father. Tell them that Lennon is holding his daughter. We’d be the heroes,” the second voice suggests, seemingly familiar.
“No fucking way. He’d likely kill us anyway for being associated with the Gallagher Clan. We participated. We were guilty the moment we did the actual abduction.”
Holy shit, I knew I recognized that voice. The second guy is Borat, so the first guy must be Danny.
“Yeah, you’re right. Do you think Lachlan can pull off getting the rest of the clan to overthrow Lennon?” Danny asks.
“I don’t know. He’s trying find a way to call a meeting without Lennon being present. That in itself will be a challenge since the Clan Chief is who has the authority to call or approve a meeting. He will likely have to reach out to the clan members individually,” Borat points out.
“I think this overthrow will only work if he and his brother Kai were absent from the picture altogether. The remaining siblings would be handicapped without their leadership. The others would have no chance to rival against us if we can get enough clan members on board,” Danny says.
“I think Lachlan is going to also reach out to some members of the other Irish families. We just have to wait a little while longer.”
“Let’s grab a beer,” Danny suggests. “He won’t be returning tonight. And I’ve already given the other men off. Told them we’d take this shift.”
That’s music to my ears. Sounds like they plan to slack off, leaving me free to execute my escape. Those fuckers are going to double-cross Lennon, and it’s too bad that I can’t stay to warn him. My freedom is at stake. Not much of it since I’m sure I’ll resume my sentence once I get home, but enough for me to appreciate.
Surprisingly, my heart aches for Lennon. If you had asked me a short week ago, I wouldn’t have thought I’d have these emotions. I don’t wish to be his captive, but I don’t want him dead either. Simple murder would be too kind. My father is not a very forgiving man. There is a reason our entire house fears him. He will likely torture Lennon for days before allowing him to die.
Once the voices fade to where I can no longer hear Danny and Borat, I make a dash for the back of the house to the edge of the perimeter. I try to halt when I realize there’s a cliff, but momentum carries me over. My hands do little to brace for my fall, my chest hitting first. I don’t know how long I continue to roll toward the bottom before a large boulder stops me. Pain immediately shoots through my limbs, igniting instant regret. I didn’t think my escape would be easy, but I didn’t expect this. Every movement produces agony. I feel wetness along my shins underneath my jogging pants as the familiar metallic, copper-like smell assaults my nose.
My head throbs, and my chest aches. The chill in the night’s air has a significant bite. I focus on tonight’s full moon, willing myself to ignore the pain. I try to scale up the cliff, using my arms to pull me up, but the attempt is futile. There is zero chance that I can make it back to the house in this condition, and now an escape is no longer possible either. I rest my head against the cold rock. My eyes grow heavy, and I don’t have the strength to keep fighting. I had one chance to get away, and I ruined it. Lennon or his house staff will discover I’m gone and will seek to find me. These set of circumstances will never come around again. He will make sure of it. I close my eyes until my consequences find me.
* * *
Dawn barely breakswhen I hear voices … more like commands. It’s Lennon, and he’s pissed. He’s yelling for someone to search every inch of the property. I lazily gaze at the hues of orange and yellow sunrise, blending perfectly with the pinkish purple tones within the sky. It’s so effortlessly beautiful. I try to engrain the sight into my memory, unsure of when I will see the light of day again.
“I found her,” Lennon yells. “Goddammit.”
My focus is still off as I feel the darkness trying to take me under again. Lennon doesn’t wait for whoever has been searching with him. I catch glimpses of him inching his way down toward me, careful to respect the trajectory of the decline. When he reaches to pull me closer to him, I cry out in pain. He curses again but stops trying to move me. He pulls out his phone and dials someone.
“I can’t move her,” he says into the phone. “Not without knowing the condition of her spine. I’m going to need a fucking gurney. Just be as discreet as possible.”
He ends the call but doesn’t utter a word to me. Instead, he leans his head against the incline of the hillside. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he says more to himself than to me. The question is rhetorical. “We were making such great progress, but now we’re back to square one.”
“You have to …” I try to warn him, but my words just won’t come. “You have to stop …” I try again.
“Don’t give me your defiant bullshit right now, Aurora.” He runs a troubled hand through his messy, loose hair. “I will leave your ass down here. You really fucked up this time. I didn’t want to have to hurt you—not physically anyway. But you have made that damn near impossible.”
“Stop …” I try yet again, but it’s useless. Why can’t I get my thoughts out? Worse than that, why am I trying to save him?
