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“I’m fine.” I switch on the shower and am grateful the lock holds. I step under the flow of the water, instantly wincing when the hot water hits my skin. I cool it as much as I can stand before switching off the water and gently wrapping a towel around myself.
I use the hotel provided toothbrush and toothpaste, along with the soap to wash off the last of my makeup. I feel a little better but not much because I know what is coming and I don’t know how to get out of it.
I open the door and find Ethan sitting on a chair, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee in conversation with someone on his phone. He disconnects as soon as he sees me and stands and for the first time in all the time I’ve known him, it’s like I see how big he is. How threatening.
“Who are you talking to?”
“No one. Here.” He takes the dress his mother had sent out of the plastic bag hanging on the closet door. I’m glad to see she included a bra and a pair of panties. I put them on, still slow to move, my skin tight and tender.
Ethan’s eyes follow my movements. I don’t so much see it as feel it. There’s a hostility I’ve never known with him before.
“You’ll heal soon,” Ethan says. “You know I did that on my father’s order. I’m not a violent man.”
I pull the dress over my head and snort. “No? Really, Ethan? I think this is evidence of the contrary. Why did you do it? If you didn’t want to, why did you?”
“My father can be very controlling, as you’ve seen for yourself. And like I said before, better me than him.”
“Better no one.” I sit down on the edge of the bed toput on the shoes, a pair of heels I know will be excruciatingly painful especially once I slip them on and realize they’re a half size too small. Mira knows my size. She’s sending a message.
“Go on, Phee.”
“They’re too small.”
“Well, barefoot isn’t an option.”
“You can’t make me do this.” I get up and cross the room.
Ethan doesn’t stop me. He sighs instead like he’s bored. “Where are you going to go?” he asks just as I open the door and see the faces of three men I don’t know in the living room of the suite. They’re all big, and I see the holsters strapped to their belts. Those guns aren’t toys.
I close the door and turn back to Ethan. “Am I your prisoner?”
“Don’t look at it that way. I’m trying to help you. I’m the only one trying to help you.”
“Let me call my father, at least. Tell him about the house. Tell him what we’re doing.” Because I need to buy time. To figure out my options. I need to get out of here and get away from Ethan.
Again, there’s that sigh. “I didn’t want to show you this. I made my father swear he wouldn’t. I don’t want to hurt you any more than you’ve been hurt.”
He scrolls through his phone and when he finds what he’s looking for, he comes to me.
“Your father isn’t who he makes himself out to be.”
This turn has me confused.
“For starters, his last name isn’t Hart. It’s Hayes.”
“What?”
“He kidnapped your mother when she was pregnant with you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He turns the screen toward me, and I can’t help but read the words in big, bold letters:Daughter of Oil Tycoon Kidnapped.
The rest of the article I can’t see well enough to read without my glasses.
“Shit, forgot. We’ll get your eyes fixed first thing. No more of those ugly glasses. Basically, your mom and dad were dating, and I’m guessing given who she was and the fact that he was staff, it wasn’t a welcome relationship in the Carlisle-Bent household.”
“Carlisle-Bent?”
