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GIDEON
“Isla?”
Calling her reaps no reward.
I’ve been up and down, and I can’t find her. The house is silent, and it feels empty. I don’t like it. I want her where I can see her and talk to her and make sure she is keeping up her end of our deal by wearing the diamond bracelet. I want to see it against her exquisite skin. Hopefully, one day soon, that will be all she will have on when I claim her.
The front door opens, and I turn, halfway to my office. “Isla. Where were you?”
“Outside signing for a delivery.”
“Oh?” I murmur, glancing at the box in Isla’s hand. “What is it?”
She shrugs. “No idea. You ordered it.”
I shake my head. “No, I wasn’t expecting anything until this afternoon.”
“Well, it’s come early then.”
“Has it been checked over?” I frown at it and try not to edge away so I don’t scare her.
Her face goes to a blank mask. “Why are you backing away?”
“I’m not,” I lie, busted.
Horrified, she takes a step forward and I take one back. “You are! Why?” She gives the box a filthy look and chucks it at my feet.
I leap back, ready to dive for cover as I’m expecting an explosion of… something, but nothing happens.
It’s just a box.
So far.
Schrödinger’s box.
“Ack!” Isla exclaims and skitters back.
“What?” I yell.
“I don’t know! Why are you acting like it’s a box of scorpions or something?”
“What?” I cry as she has landed on a very real fear of mine. “Why the fuck would you say that?”
She presses her lips together, attempting to stifle her laughter.
She doesn’t do a very good job, and it erupts in a bubble of glorious giggles. “You’re afraid of scorpions?” she snickers.
“Fear,” I scoff. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Except going outside.”
Her gaze locks with mine, and her face crumples. “I’m s-s-sorry. That was horrible of me. I’m not judging or mocking. I don’t know why I said that.”
Inhaling deeply, I release it to remain calm in the face of this hideous conversation. “That isn’t fear, Isla. That is something else entirely.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
I’m fully aware that I don’t owe her shit, but now that we are confronted with this elephant in the room, the facts are dying to come out. But I can’t tell her everything. It will put her in immeasurable danger, but I can’t seem to stop the following words. “It’s not fear. It’s self-preservation. Protection. There is a whole world of people out there who want my head on a spike and will take the first opportunity to take it. I don’t step foot in my grounds because I can’t be sure that there isn’t a sniper, or several even, ready to take me out the second I do. I don’t expect you to understand or care or even be able to tell the difference between the fear of death and just not wanting to die yet. But that is my truth. I’ve locked myself away here in order to be able to continue to live. Does that make any sense to you?”
