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“Where are we?” I ask, unable to determine any identifying features of the landscape.
“In England, Miss Kennedy.” Of course we are. I try my hardest to not let shock appear on my face, and to bring a small smile across my lips. We are far away from California where we had met only a couple of nights ago, and even further away from my Australian home.
“I take it then that Alexander is indeed British and the accent is legit?” I ask, wanting to know as much about my kidnapper as possible. I still don’t believe my parents gave me to him as payment of a debt. We are a very wealthy family and I’m sure my father would have given him fifty million dollars if he owed it. Especially since my parents love me greatly.
“Yes, dear. Mr. Black was born here in England and has lived here his entire life.” As Thelma answers, she lifts her hands toward the side of the house. “Perhaps you would like to have a walk around the gardens? I have heard that you like to paint.”
How do you know that?” My interest piques immediately. Had my parents given Alexander a list of my hobbies when they gave me to him? Or did he do research on me in an effort to make me as comfortable as possible in my new surroundings?
“Mr. Black has one of your artworks in the house, miss. He purchased it a couple of years ago at one of the fundraisers your parents held.”
“I didn’t see it on the tour.” She falters for a moment. I don’t think she was meant to share this tidbit of information. If it is indeed true, then Alexander has known about me longer than I have known about him. Which also means my parents didn’t tell him about my love of painting.
A couple of years ago, I painted my own version ofStarry Nightby Vincent van Gogh and offered it as a charity auction item for my parents. I didn’t think it would fetch much at all, but it ended up going for close to one hundred thousand dollars. Too much for a completely unknown painter. My parents were thrilled and asked me to supply a new painting each time we had an auction event.
“Indeed. Perhaps you could add some painting supplies to your list,” she suggests as we turn the corner and come to the gardens. I saw this section of garden from my window earlier this morning. An old stone fountain sits at the center point, with stone benches on both sides. A gravel path creates a border for the different shades of flowers that have been planted in separate garden beds. As I get closer, I confirm my suspicions that these flowers are all roses. Red, pink, yellow, orange, purple and even some blue. I take a seat on one of the benches and look around, before once again breaking down in tears.
I hear Thelma’s footsteps on the pebbles as she makes her way over. She sits down beside me and wraps her arm around my shoulders. And even though I do not know this woman, I collapse into her body and cry. She says nothing at all, just holds me, allowing me to get it all out.
How is this even possible? How did I go from a relaxed woman in control of every aspect of her life to becoming a captive? Well, captive is probably too strong a word for what I am. I have the ability to go almost wherever I want in the entire property, which is rather extensive from what little I’ve seen so far. Thelma here takes care of me, cooking every meal, cleaning my room, and so far, I haven’t had to do anything that I don’t want to. But what’s to say that when Black comes back it won’t change?
“Miss Kennedy, I have something for you from Mr. Black.” Thelma’s voice comes from above my head, speaking into my hair. I wipe at my tears with the palms of my hands and sit back up, looking up at her kind face. She pulls away slightly, but still sitting close enough that our arms are touching.
“What is it, Thelma?” I look into her pale green eyes and glimpse myself reflected in them. I notice her hand disappear into her pocket and she pulls out a relatively small red velvet box. “Before I do, I need to ask you something.”
I wipe my eyes again and take a deep breath. “Okay. Ask whatever you need to.” It doesn’t take long for her to speak again.
“Do you want to stay here? In this home with Mr. Black?” Her tone is clear and friendly enough, her eyes kind, looking directly at me.
She must be kidding me. Why on earth would I want to do that? I want to go home. Back to how my life was before I got here. “No, Thelma, I don’t want to be here. As for Mr. Black, I haven’t seen him since after I first got here, so why does he even care if I stay here or not?”
Thelma nods but doesn’t say anything as she places the box back in her pocket. I desperately want to know what’s inside, but I don’t want to appear too keen. instead I turn my gaze away from her and look out at the field in front of us, covered in white wildflowers. I stand up and wander toward the edge of the garden, looking out at the vast empty space ahead of me. I’d be guessing that it’s the length of three football fields, so it would take me quite a length of time to get across. Which would leave me out in the open for someone to easily spot. Unless it was night-time, and then I would be pretty much undetectable. I could head into the forest at the end of the field and hopefully there’d be another home at the other end where I could get some help. Access a phone to call the authorities to get the hell out of here.
The thick forest stretches wide, coupled with a fence that covers the entire boundary. I need to get back around to the front of the property to see if the driveway is the easiest and shortest way to exit. I turn to my left and keep going around the gardens until I am once again at the front door. I feel Thelma’s presence behind me and since I don’t want to make it obvious what I’m doing, I bend to smell the roses in large pots beside the front door. Angling my head so I have a clear view along the driveway, I see it goes forever and is completely open and visible from the house.
My rose sniffing is interrupted by the engine of an approaching airplane. When I look up, it’s going over us, quite close to the ground. There must be an airfield nearby. As the plane flies over the forest at the back of Alexander’s property, I decide that going through there is the way to go. I just need to develop a solid plan in order to execute it. And in order to complete my task, I need to get both Thelma and Alexander on side, so I can move freely about the property without them constantly following me or seeing where it is I spend my days. I need to convince them I want to stay, which is going to be harder now since I’ve just told Thelma that I don’t.
Thelma opens the front door beside me, and I smile down at her, before walking in and heading up the grand timber staircase to my bedroom. I locate the stationery and pens in my small desk and set to writing a list of items that will put Alexander at ease. Once complete, I seal it in an envelope and place it outside my bedroom door. Thelma will find it when she brings up lunch later today.
I head into my closet and take a closer look at the clothing inside. After opening all the drawers, I remember where I found the sweaters. In amongst them is a black one with a hood. I pull it out and try it on; the perfect fit. The hood will cover my light hair, making it even harder to spot me in the dark. Taking it back off, I then fold it and place it at the back of the drawer. From my exploration the other day, there were several pairs of black pants hanging together—jeans and dress pants. I pull the jeans down and try them on, finding that once again they’re a perfect fit. I tug them back off and hang them up before searching at the far end of the closet where shoes are lined up. It doesn’t take me long to locate a pair of black runners.
My getaway outfit is chosen and ready to go. I hear a knock on the bedroom door and quickly exit the closet, before throwing the door open. I am met with Black. All six foot six of him, dressed in a midnight blue three-piece suit, and not bothering to hide his dark blue eyes raking over my body. I look down and belatedly realize that I am only dressed in my underwear. Luckily, I had chosen to wear underwear this morning after being disgusted with what he’d filled my drawers with.
When I look back up, his hands are braced against the door frame. Confident in my own body, I plaster a smile on my face and look directly into his eyes. “Alexander.”
~ Chapter Six ~
Alexander
I got five days of workdone in three. Just so I could get home sooner. It’s amazing what a beautiful woman waiting for me back at home did for my motivation. As soon as the plane comes to a stop, I’m disembarking and hopping straight into my car. I drive back to the house and enter through the front door where Thelma greets me. “Mr. Black, sir. Welcome home.”
“Thelma.” I nod at her as I walk past.
“Ah, sir,” she calls out. I look back and notice the crushed-velvet box in her hand. In a few strides I return to Thelma and take the box from her.
“What did she say?” I ask, needing to know why she told Thelma she didn’t want to stay.
“No, she doesn’t want to be here. She also asked why you even cared since she hasn’t seen you since first arriving.” I swallow my anger and nod at my housekeeper. I head straight for my quarters and drop my briefcase inside before beelining straight for her room.
