Deception, page 7
Unfortunately, my small frame was no match for him. I didn’t know how to throw so much as a simple punch. I’d never even worked out. He obviously knew it. And he delighted in the power he had over me.
I somehow wrenched out of his grip and a loud rip filled the air, my top giving way when he grabbed it to stop my escape. He tackled me onto the hard ground, smashing my face against the hard-packed dirt.
The soil invaded my nose and mouth, making me cough. Another rip, and hot and humid air caressed my butt and legs.
Don’t think about what’s going to happen, Ever. The square root of 576 is 24. 9345 is 96.67. 2933 is 52. No, it’s 54.16.
No. This was not how my story would end. I couldn’t put my head in the sand and hope for the best. I needed to fight. When his weight shifted, I planted my feet on the ground and roll us over. And then I jumped up and ran. I didn’t care where. I didn’t care that I was only wearing one shoe, the sharp rocks cutting into my socked foot.
Shouts sounded behind me, and I pumped my arms and legs harder, my body straining, my lungs screaming at me to stop. When I thought I couldn’t go any farther, I spotted the cliff.
Without thinking, I jumped.
Chapter 12
Lucius
How could this fucking day get any worse? Maurizio wasn’t happy that I’d banned the guards from the house. He went through my every move with a fine-tooth comb. Santino provided him with a detailed account of all my movements.
Maurizio had called him into the office with us. I knew Santino had to respond when asked what I’d been up to. It was a power play. Maurizio was showing me that my once best friend was now loyal to him.
I would have done the same. But it just meant I had to get creative to make it out unnoticed tonight.
Maurizio puffed on his cigar, his dead eyes, which didn’t miss a thing, pinned on me. “What about the girl? You tired of her yet?”
I tensed at the question, cursing myself for showing a reaction. If he found out exactly how much I’d come to care for Everleigh, he’d use her against me. “I’m not done with her yet.”
And I probably never would be.
Shouting outside interrupted any further questions he might have had. We all went out to the balcony, watching guards rush to their quarters. Then I saw what they were yelling at.
A small figure was sprinting right for the cliffs, long hair flowing, legs pumping. Someone else was chasing her.
I didn’t waste another breath and scaled down the balcony. I’d done it a million times, knowing how to get out of most rooms in the house. Maurizio’s office was one of the easiest to get in and out of.
Landing hard on the tiles, I ignored the pain jarring through my bones and took off.
I was a fast runner. I stayed in shape and worked out every day. But I’d never pushed myself as hard as I did at that moment. Within seconds, I was almost on them. But Everleigh had reached the cliffs and wasn’t slowing down.
She looked back at who I recognized as Ignacio, one of the guards, the sorrow in her eyes shining bright enough for everyone to see. She thought this was it; the look was one I recognized well, had seen too many times to count. I called out to her, but she didn’t slow down.
And then she jumped.
Not hesitating, I followed. She hit the foaming waves seconds before I did. The cliffs sat low to the water at the spot she’d jumped in from. But the waves crashing against the rocky walls were strong, and undercurrents and sharp rocks dotted the coastline. Even for someone who swam every day, they were a challenge to navigate.
She disappeared under the waves, and I dove. The churning and pull of the water made it impossible to see anything, but I knew where she went under and blindly swam her way. Ignoring the burning in my limbs and the urge to gasp for air, I pushed forward.
And then my hand brushed against fabric.
I latched on, pulling her to me. Once I’d dragged her close enough, I wound my arm around her middle and kicked my legs. We broke through the surface, getting thrown back and forth like driftwood. My lungs were burning, and I struggled to keep us above water.
The cliffs loomed tall, and we were getting too close. The waves would smash us against the rocks if I didn’t swim farther out. The only access point was a pier where we kept a boat. If I could make it there, we might have a chance.
The short distance seemed impossible, but giving up was never an option, so I swam in the direction of the pier, praying we’d make it.
I slipped under the water a few times, slowly losing the battle against the current. I’d be able to taste salt water for weeks if we made it out alive.
Something hit the water next to me, and I saw the bright colors of a life buoy. I hadn’t heard a boat approach, the rushing sound of the water and the ringing in my ears making hearing much of anything impossible. I grasped for the buoy, my muscles straining, my body yelling out in protest.
I made one last attempt to propel myself forward and got close enough to grab a hold of the buoy. But the urge to let go was strong. I’d pushed my body to its limits, my lungs wheezing my breath in and out, my arms going numb. The sight of a boat approaching gave me one last burst of strength.
A rope was thrown down, and I hooked it around both myself and Everleigh, tying us together. I wasn’t leaving the water without her.
We made it to the side of the boat, and arms pulled us both up. Everleigh lay next to me, her form still, her lips blue. But my body wouldn’t cooperate; it refused to get up and help her.
Santino crouched down next to her. “She’s breathing,” he yelled to be heard over the noise of the motor and surf breaking against the rocks.
Someone put blankets over us. I turned my head so I could watch Santino roll her to the side, facing away from me, then pat her back.
After a while, her shoulders heaved, and I watched Santino pound her back, forcing the water from her lungs. We made it to the dock in a few minutes, men already waiting for us. They had two stretchers laid out, but I’d be damned if I’d let them carry me.
Scraping up the last of my strength, I sat up. A wave of dizziness and nausea hit me, but I breathed through it, blinking the haze over my eyes away. Then Santino was there, knowing I’d never get on a stretcher unless I was unconscious.
He pulled me up, keeping his arm around me. I leaned on him heavily, swaying like I was drunk. I watched them load Everleigh on a stretcher and carry her off the boat. I followed slowly, coughing and struggling to put one foot in front of the other.
“You’re an idiot,” Santino chastised me while dragging me up the path. “Who in their right mind jumps off a cliff? You’re lucky you’re not fish food.”
I was too busy fighting against passing out to respond. When we made it inside, I sank into the closest chair with a groan. A doctor rushed up to us, ready to examine me. I waved him away. “Everleigh first.” My voice was raspy and barely above a whisper.
Santino pushed my hand down. “Dr. Martinez is with her. Dr. Clark will examine you, so be a good boy and sit still.”
Dr. Clark was a no-nonsense greedy motherfucker who’d do anything for the right price. He looked at Santino. “This would be easier if we could lay him down.”
Nodding, my friend pulled me up again and walked me to the closest bedroom. He dumped me on the bed, pushing me down when I didn’t want to lie back. “Stop being an asshole. The sooner you get better, the sooner you can go to Everleigh.”
I’d gotten too comfortable, not hiding my feelings as well as I thought. But jumping off a cliff after someone was probably a dead giveaway.
I wouldn’t have to find a way to leave the compound tonight after all. Because there was no way I’d be leaving Everleigh by herself.
Chapter 13
Everleigh
Voices drifted in and out. Someone called my name. I wanted ice cream. Did they have candy in heaven? My mouth felt funny, like I was sucking on a big ball of cotton. If only someone would turn off the loud beeping. I thought death was supposed to be peaceful. I didn’t feel peaceful.
The voices got louder. The beeping didn’t stop. My eyes were so heavy. I tried to open them, but they wouldn’t cooperate. I was thirsty. Scratch the ice cream, I wanted a milkshake. Chocolate.
I felt hot. I tried to move, but not even my fingers twitched.
So tired.
There was a prick in my arm, and then everything went blissfully silent again.
There was that beeping noise again. Why wouldn’t someone turn it off? Was I the only one hearing it?
I was warm. Comfortable. I was cocooned in a cloud. Something soft brushed across my hair. I wanted to lean into the gentle touch, but my body didn’t cooperate.
A hushed conversation near the bed. Then the mattress moved as if someone sat down.
I didn’t want to share my bed.
So warm.
A familiar, warm hand engulfed mine. There was no more pain. No more fear. I could just be. My fingers twitched, and the hand squeezed mine. Then someone traced a finger down my cheek.
“Everleigh? Can you hear me?”
The voice flowed around me like honey.
So happy.
“Why’s she not waking up?”
There was the beautiful voice again. I wanted to tell him to say more, but my mouth wasn’t working. My eyes were heavy, but I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted more of the voice. And the touch. Where was the hand?
“She’ll wake up when she’s ready.”
“It’s been four days.”
The voice was angry. I preferred the honey.
So sleepy.
The weight of the blankets was crushing me. Why do I have so many blankets on me? Was I cold when I went to bed last night?
My sluggish mind was still playing catch-up. Fragments hit me, forcing me to remember.
The cliff. Cold water.
Where am I?
I wiggled my toes. Flexed my fingers. My body was slowly cooperating. At least all my limbs were still attached and working. Each movement caused pain to shoot up and down every inch of my body, which I took as a good sign. If I felt pain, I must still be alive.
My eyes slowly opened, and I blinked into the dark room. I swallowed, my mouth dry. My hands slowly made their way out of the blankets, and I pushed the heavy covers off my body. I sighed in relief once I shoved all the blankets away, each movement painful, my arms weak. I was sweaty and unsettled.
I moved with an aching slowness, pushing into a seated position on the edge of the bed. My feet were dangling off the side, my legs not quite long enough to touch the floor. I paused to catch my breath and took in my surroundings, my aching ribs a reminder of what had happened.
My eyes fell on the chair near the bed. A dark shape was sitting in it, unmoving. Their breathing was even, the slow rise and fall of their chest telling me they were asleep.
Careful not to wake the person assigned to guard me, I slowly stood up. The room started spinning and I had to hold on to the bed. I made it to the bathroom after an agonizingly slow shuffle and closed the door behind me, slumping against it.
My body was sluggish to respond. My arm felt like it was filled with lead when I lifted it to turn on the light. I snapped my eyes shut at the sudden brightness, black spots dancing in my vision.
What a clusterfuck of a mess. Things had gone from bad to worse in the span of one bad decision. And why wasn’t I dead?
I lifted my eyes to assess the damage I had done to myself and sucked a sharp breath in at my reflection. My face was black and blue, my hair one gigantic rat’s nest and my eyes bloodshot.
I washed my face, the action making me feel slightly more human again. The thought of walking all the way back to my bed made me dizzy. My body hurt with every breath I took, with every move I made.
With a defeated sigh, I pulled two fluffy towels off the rack and dropped them into the bathtub. Then I sank into my makeshift bed and fell asleep immediately.
I felt myself being lifted. The arms were familiar, wrapping around me carefully as if I were precious. I snuggled into a hard chest and inhaled a soapy clean smell I craved. A deep voice murmured something into my hair. A soft mattress encased my body, and then blankets covered my body.
The arms keeping me safe disappeared, and I was once again ensconced in a cocoon of warmth.
Sunlight streamed through the windows when I opened my eyes next. I was sore all over. I rolled to the side but was met with resistance. I was lying underneath heavy down blankets again. “Too many fucking blankets,” I mumbled into the silent room.
“Clearly feeling better,” a voice grumbled to my right.
I turned my head and saw Santino sitting on a chair by the window. He looked like he’d recently found out that a person couldn’t live off protein bars and whiskey. Since it was nice to see a familiar face, I ignored his thunderous expression.
The only part of my body that didn’t hurt was my thumb. The rest of my fingers were stiff, and a closer inspection revealed more bruising and scabs.
My hopeless situation hit me with a force that knocked the air out of me. Even though I was covered with more blankets than I had ever owned in my life, shivers wracked my body. My teeth began clacking together, and my whole body trembled. My stomach was replaced by a big gaping hole that threatened to consume me. The signs of an oncoming panic attack were now sadly familiar, settling themselves firmly into my body and holding on like a parasite, sucking the life out of me.
“¡Mierda!” Santino cursed and jumped out of his chair, reading the situation correctly. He also knew to recognize the signs by now.
Breathing became a chore, and I was gasping for air. Santino leaned over me, studying my face. He didn’t seem to like what he saw, because his lips were two thin lines and his eyes narrowed.
Maybe passing out wouldn’t be so bad. At least the panic attack would go away. My face heated up and my body tightened, revolting against the cruel punishment my mind liked to dish out.
Santino held on to my shoulders and shook me. “Breathe,” he yelled in my face.
It was safe to say I’d had enough. Enough of being held captive. Of everyone else deciding for me. Of telling me what to do. Of keeping me prisoner. I wanted to sink back into blissful oblivion. And it seemed I’d get my wish sooner rather than later.
Santino’s face twisted in a grimace to rival the Grim Reaper, his hands on my shoulders. “Breathe, damn it.”
As if repeating his command would make a difference.
There was a commotion outside my door. Someone called out, and then the door burst open. I couldn’t see much over all the blankets still piled on top of me. Why was I still conscious?
Santino released me and stepped back, revealing a red-faced and half-dressed Lucius. My eyes went wide at his appearance. His usual suit was gone, replaced with sweatpants. His delectable upper body was on display, but my vision was finally getting blurry, and I couldn’t fully appreciate what was in front of me.
His eyes were bloodshot, and he had dark circles underneath. He kneeled on my bed and leaned over me. “Breathe.”
Why is everyone telling me to breathe?
He reached a shaky hand out, lightly tracing my jaw.
If I blinked, I might have missed it. “Please.” A whispered plea only for me to hear. His face was so close, I could make out the flecks of green in his golden eyes. His clean, soapy smell. The worry line between his brows.
Lucius cursed and lifted me out of the bed. Then he rushed me into the bathroom and put me in the shower.
Cold water hit me, and I shrieked in surprise while I gulped big breaths of air in. I tried to escape the onslaught of icy water, quickly getting soaked through to the bone.
His arms locked around me from behind, holding me tightly, the water encasing us. My whole body deflated, as if the strings holding me together suddenly released.
The action brought him even closer, his weight now pressing down on me. He put his forehead to the back of my head. “Don’t give up now, preciosa.”
Once I was steady again, he backed off slightly but didn’t release me. I was grateful for the connection. Needed it. I turned to face him, frowning. “Why does nobody around here use my name? It’s not that hard to remember.”
His lips twitched and a ghost of a smile appeared, replacing his worried expression. God, he was handsome. Even though there were dark smudges under his eyes and his hair was in a permanent state of disarray, he was still a sight to behold.
“I’m sorry, Everleigh,” he said, emphasizing my name. “Feeling better?”
I nodded. “Since I’m already in here, I might as well take a shower.”
He dropped his arms from around me, and I swayed without him holding me up.
I held on to the wall to steady myself, and Lucius stepped out of the shower. After one last glance in my direction, he padded out of the bathroom, leaving giant puddles in his wake. He closed the door behind him, leaving me alone for the first time in days.
There was no way I was going to take my clothes off. I was unable to lift my arms. I couldn’t bend down. I also had no intention of getting naked with Lucius and Santino in the other room, all that separated us a door. But I was desperate to get clean, so I simply stepped into the shower dressed in my pajamas. The now warm water engulfed me, and I sighed in relief.
Wet bandages stuck uncomfortably to my body. I slowly turned into the spray, ignoring the pain each movement caused as best as I could.
I took the soap and loofah and scrubbed my skin. Soap, rub, rinse, repeat. I emptied half the bottle before stopping and sinking to the ground.
The water continued to pelt down on my tired and bruised body, and I welcomed the pain. Each time it hit a bruise or a cut, I grimaced. I was hugging my knees, forehead resting on them.
