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Yes, yes I care. So I text Starla, thankful that she joined the modern age and texts now.
Hey, I need a little help.
Yeah? What's up?
As soon as I tell her my plan, she's on board. I feel a little guilty taking advantage of a teen’s goodwill and rebellion, but I’d do the same for her.
An hour later, I manage to convince my guards to take me to the mall. There's only one store that's open this time of day, a big box department store, but they don't need to know that.
All they need to know is that I am in one of the store’s changing rooms. Thankfully, despite the fact it's the only place open in the mall at the moment, we’re not alone here.
I know how to do this. And it’s a lot easier to do with Starla’s assistance.
I quickly change into a completely different outfit that I hid under the ones on my hangers. I put on a pair of boys jeans and a T-shirt, then tuck my hair into a ball cap. I slide on a pair of sunglasses. Lastly, I lace up a pair of sneakers. When I don't look a thing like my actual self, I text Starla.
Go time.
Twenty seconds later, there's a bloodcurdling scream. "Help! Help!"
I look under the door to see my guards running. They know that's Eden’s sister on the other side of these stalls, and she's just alerted them that something is terribly wrong. I quickly place my shoes at the entrance of the dressing room door, facing away, in such a way that it looks like I'm still standing there. Hopefully, it'll buy me some time.
And I hold my head up high and escape. I walk right out, leaving my guards and Starla behind me, with Starla giggling, telling everybody that it was just a false alarm, everything's fine.
Fifteen minutes later, I'm on a bus to go see my mom.
I'm still wearing the getup I wore to escape, because it's going to be a lot easier for me if nobody comes after me right now. I want to go see my mom.
It doesn't matter if she doesn't remember who I am.I know who I am, and that's what matters.
I give myself some time at the back of the bus, my head on the headrest, the cap over my eyes. Because I need to cry.
I can't ever go back to Adriano. I can't ever go back to Bella Notte. I don't belong there.
I don't belong anywhere.
I'm not quite ready to see my mom when I get down there. But I know Adriano’s going to come after me. I know he will. I hope that he will. Do I?
A little voice in the back of my mind tells me that if I didn't want him to find me, this is definitely not the place I should go. But I also didn't leave on a whim. If my mother was asking for me, she's more lucid than I thought. Maybe there was a miracle, or some sort of intervention. Maybe she's dying and needs to tell me one last thing.
Thankfully, the ride is long, so I get to rest a little bit. But I'm still tired when I arrive in North Carolina. I remember my old haunts, the places where I would meet up with friends. The places I would go with my boyfriend, or more accurately the man of the hour. I didn't do long-term commitments, even then. Especially then.
Now that I'm alone, I draw out the file I found in Adriano's desk.
I look at every single detail. Every scrap of paper that would only be in the possession of someone who stalked me.
Pictures of me at Bella Notte, tied in ropes in a Shibari demonstration.
Me, with the nameless Dom the redhead made out with, and Adriano beat up. I'm kneeling at his feet, and he's tapping a riding crop against his legs.
Screenshots of text messages I sent Eden and Starla.
Scene after scene after scene…
Every bank account I've ever owned, every address where I've ever lived. The entire time I thought I was living a nomadic existence, Adriano had his eye on me. For a long, long time. Way longer than I’ve known him. Way longer than when he pretended he was marrying me under duress.
I suspect he’s one of the anonymous doms I had sessions with at Bella Notte. But I never suspected…this.
My hands tremble as I look through every slip of paper, because it isn't just private information, but so much more. Everything is here in vivid, stark details.
