I walked slowly to it and sat down in the chair, and stared at the black screen as minutes came and went before grabbing the mouse and moving it to bring the screen to life.
My shoulders sagged when it asked for a password, and I realized I didn’t know Lucas nearly enough to guess at one. A life kept secret from the world. A mentor who had shaped and molded Lucas into the devil. Work. I didn’t know if he had any friends, but it wasn’t likely. I only knew about us, and that made me feel very foolish. He had to have a life outside of this house.
But I still leaned forward and typed devil, then Briar, and then finally blackbird.
In awe that his password was about me, I forgot to get excited over the fact that I had actually figured out the password. I immediately pulled up the Internet and typed in Facebook. Lucas had logged out, but his password was saved so it was easy to log back in.
I didn’t think it would be a good idea to log into mine.
I went to Kyle’s profile to look at the picture of the sign he was holding but was sidetracked when I saw a link for a news update. I scrolled down to see that most of his posts were about that, and wondered briefly if that was why Lucas used Kyle’s profile, but soon my mind was consumed with the disappearance of a girl I was struggling to have a connection with.
For the next hour and a half I searched through news articles until I realized I was reading the same thing over and over again, and then I went back to Kyle’s profile . . . then mine. Looking at the old pictures and seeing posts from friends made the ache in my chest grow and my eyes water more than once, but I never thought about the plane ticket.
I just thought about Lucas’s letter and Jenna.
All I had wanted was to help the girl get away from her abusive father. All I had wanted was to save someone whose fear and desperation had sparked some protective instinct inside me. But, I’d been taken in her place.
A humorless laugh forced its way out of my chest at that realization.
But despite the countless times I’d wondered why this had happened to me, and begged to be freed, I knew being taken was a blessing in disguise.
No, I hadn’t had a horrible life like the ones I’d heard about from William’s women. I hadn’t been beaten or raped or starved by family members or boyfriends. I hadn’t been saved the way they had described—even if they should have been given the option to leave their previous lives rather than stolen from them.
But my life? It had been predetermined.
Rich parents with a need to flash their money and only child around like a show pony. I was put in classes and given lessons to be the best and be proper. I’d known I would marry into more money; that was non-negotiable. I’d just been lucky that Kyle had fit my parents’ plan for me.
I’d grown up knowing what the next day, month, even year would hold. I’d grown up knowing how my adult life would turn out, and I’d been happy—excited about it even—and eager to begin it. And it had. Life had droned on exactly how I’d thought it would . . . until it didn’t.
Until I came face to face with the devil who showed me a life I would have never known existed.
And a love I never wanted to live without.
Chapter 29
Day 71 with Briar
Lucas
I didn’t have the driver take me home until late that night, and because of the shit I’d put him through that day, I gave him a month’s pay as an unspoken apology.
But as soon as I walked into the house, I almost called him back and asked him to take me anywhere other than that empty house.
Because all of it was too familiar . . . but still so different. Everything I’d sworn I would never go through again, I’d let repeat.
But this?
Briar?
I didn’t know how to survive this.
I went to the upper level and walked slowly to her room. I flipped the lights on and looked over to the made bed, and my heart dropped when I noticed the papers and money were gone. I forced myself from the room, knowing it would only kill me slowly to stay in there longer, and went back downstairs.
It was dark and quiet, as it had been for years before she’d come into my life . . . but now it felt all wrong.
I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and headed for my office, only stopping on the way to grab a bottle of bourbon. I didn’t need a glass. I needed to stop feeling.
My cell phone rang, and as soon as the distinctive ringtone registered in my mind, I stopped abruptly just feet from the office door. I stared straight ahead, not seeing anything in front of me, just listening as my phone rang and rang, dreading this call.
“Yeah?” I answered in a dark tone, and was greeted with silence. “Unless you’re worried about a bottle of bourbon hearing you, you can speak.”
“How are things progressing?”
Progressing. I hated that word. I thought about the girl who was in the air, on her way back to Atlanta at that exact moment, and blew out a harsh breath. “They’re not,” I admitted.
There was a beat of silence before he demanded, “What do you mean, they’re not?”
I waved behind me with the bottle of bourbon, as if to show that my house was now empty, but otherwise didn’t respond. Instead, I flipped the light on in my office and walked to the desk from memory as I focused on opening the bottle and fell into my chair with a huff. The bottle was kissing my lips when I turned toward the computer and saw the piece of paper taped to it.
You IDIOT!
Yeah, Blackbird . . . Yeah. I took a swig, and focused on nothing but the burn as the liquid slid down my throat.
I was stalling. The man on the other end of the call and I both knew it, and I wanted nothing more than to continue, because my next words would change so many things. And as soon as I told him I’d sent my girl back home, I would be putting my name on a bullet, putting him in a difficult position, and creating chaos that shouldn’t be touching our world.
“You have ten seconds to tell me what you mean. Nine. Eight. Sev—”
“I looked into her,” I finally said and knew the sound I heard was most likely a chair he’d just sent skidding across the floor.
“You now have five seconds to tell me why things aren’t progressing,” he growled.
“She wasn’t ever supposed to be taken. She wasn’t an unknown. Briar Chapman. Type in her name, dozens of news stories will pop up. The governor of Georgia’s son was her fiancé.”
There was a long pause before he hissed out a curse. “Even if all that is true, there is a reason you don’t look them up. What the fuck did you do?” He didn’t wait for me to respond; he already knew, based on his next question. “Do you realize this could ruin everything?”
I glanced down and drew in a slow breath, savoring it like it was my last. But before I could release it, I noticed a pile of shredded paper sitting on top of my keyboard. My brow furrowed, and I released the breath I was holding as I set down the bourbon bottle. I picked up strings of paper, trying to figure out what my broken girl had destroyed, and had just decided it was probably my letter when I realized everything I was seeing was printed, and the strip in my hand had Houston’s airport initials on it.
“I have to go,” I said quickly and tripped over the foot of the chair from trying to get out of it so fast.
“No, you need to tell me exactly what has happened and what you’ve done,” he demanded as I took off running out of my office.
Apparently not what we both thought, I thought to myself as I flew upstairs. “I told you, I looked her up.”
“You said—”
“Things aren’t progressing right now, but they will. I have to go,” I gritted out and hung up before he could respond as I rushed to the starter room and then back to Briar’s room when she wasn’t there. After looking through her bathroom and closet as well, I went to another room, and another. I was almost finished checking all the bedrooms on the top level when it hit me, and I took off in a dead sprint for the stairs again.
I burst into my room, my chest rising and falling harshly from the adrenaline, my heart racing as I stared at the small, perfect shape of my blackbird as she slept in my bed.
“Briar.” Her name fell from my lips like a prayer, and some indescribable, overwhelming feeling filled and warmed my chest.
I stepped out of my shoes and socks as I walked toward the bed, and crawled so my knees were on either side of her, caging her in. Brushing her long hair away from her face, I said her name again, and watched her slowly wake.
Her eyes glanced at me, then widened. “Luc—you’re h—you idiot!” she cried, and tears instantly filled her eyes.
“Yes, Briar, yes,” I said on a rush. “For so many things I am that.”
“I will always love him—I thought I was going to marry him.” Her eyes were wild as she tried to get me to understand something I couldn’t. “But can’t you see that I can’t live without you? Can’t you see that I’m in love with you?”
I sat back, shocked at her words.
“I know, I know . . . it isn’t allowed. But since when have we ever cared about what is allowed? I don’t care if you will never be able to love me back. I knew that even when I gave you my heart.” Briar wiped at her tears and looked up at me with a pleading stare. “I gave you my heart, stop trying to make me leave you.”
Shock was replaced by awe as I looked at her. “You’re mine.” For the first time, it was a realization.
“Yes! You idi—”
I pressed my mouth to hers and wrapped my arms underneath her to lift her upper body off the bed. With a slowness that suggested we had an eternity, I pulled the shirt off her and dropped it over the side of the bed, then cupped her face in my hands to wipe away the remaining tears.
“I had to let you go, you have to see that.” I passed my thumb over her bottom lip when her jaw trembled and searched her eyes. “You’ll never be forced to stay here again, Briar, but please God, don’t ever leave.”
“I don’t want to be somewhere you aren’t,” she said simply as she reached for the button on my pants.
I captured her lips in a slow kiss and groaned into her mouth when she freed me and curled her hand around my length. With the other, she pushed my pants and boxer briefs down and slowly lay back against the pillows.
She looked like a goddess with her dark hair spilled out around her and across her chest, her breasts full and waiting for me.
I climbed off the bed to finish removing my clothes then slowly pulled the lace off her hips and down her legs.
When I moved back between her legs, she pressed the tips of her fingers to my chest, and I paused to look at her. “For tonight, can you . . .” She trailed off and swallowed thickly. Even in the dark room I could see the way her blood rushed to her cheeks. When she continued, her voice was barely above a whisper. “Can you pretend that you could love me, too?”
“Blackbird . . .” I didn’t tell her she was asking for something I would never be able to give her, she already knew.
Placing one hand over her chest, I memorized the feel of her thundering heart as I slowly pushed into her heat. Her sharp inhale mixed with my low groan as I filled her inch by inch. Incredible. I never wanted to stop being overwhelmed by the rush of emotions when my body joined hers. I never wanted to stop being overwhelmed by her.
Our movements were never hurried, and there was never any more. And as she whispered my name against my lips when she came, I found it all too easy to pretend.
Chapter 30
You’re Dangerous
Briar
My eyes felt scratchy and raw when I woke the next morning. When I first arrived, I had gotten so used to days upon days of crying that I hardly noticed the feel of it anymore. This felt miserable, and I still felt emotionally exhausted. But memories of last night and how beautiful it had been had me eager to see how this morning would be.
I rolled over to an empty bed and frowned at the piece of paper that was propped up with my name on it. The last letter from Lucas had broken my heart, so I wasn’t sure if I wanted to read this one.
I studied the offensive paper for longer than was necessary before grabbing it, and rolled my eyes when I read the few words there.
My blackbird,
I have some errands to run. I’ll be back soon with breakfast.
Your devil
P.S. . . . my shower isn’t that complicated.
I pulled on my clothes from last night then hurried to his bathroom for morning necessities, stopping at his shower to study it again on my way back to the bedroom.
No, it was definitely too complicated. There weren’t any knobs, levers, or handles. There was a screen on the wall I couldn’t get to turn on.
Once I was back in the room, I made the bed and took my note before heading upstairs so I could rinse off my body and change. While I waited for the water to warm, I went into the closet, pulled open the drawer that held the skimpy lingerie I still refused to wear, and dropped my morning note on top of the letter from last night.
I had decided the day before that if anything ever happened and this life was torn from me, I wanted to have something to know that it had been real.
That he had been real.
I was pulling on a pair of shorts not long after my shower when I heard Lucas’s heavy steps in the bathroom, and I bit back a smile when I glanced at him over my shoulder.
His arms were folded over his chest and his mouth was curled up on one side in a smirk that made my heart beat harder. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I echoed when I turned and walked toward him, and let my smile broaden when he pulled me in for a soft, teasing kiss that made my knees weak.
“Hungry?”
“Mmm-hmm,” I hummed against his lips. “What about work?”
He leaned back only far enough for those dark, dark eyes to search my face then said simply, “It can wait another day.” He cradled my head in one of his large hands, securing his fingers in my hair as he did, and tipped my head back to brush a feather-soft kiss across my lips. “Some things are more important,” he whispered, pulling me out of the closet. “Come on, breakfast is out back.”
With the havoc he’d just inflicted on my heart and my body, I wanted to forget about the food . . . but I let him lead me through the house to the doors that opened up to the backyard and sent him an excited smile when he waited for me to go ahead of him.
I’d looked down on this yard from the top floor numerous times, but looking down didn’t compare to this.
My breath rushed from me when we walked straight into a mini paradise, complete with palm trees, lush greenery, and a multitude of gorgeous flowers. A large pool was straight ahead with lounge chairs positioned on one side and an oversized cabana on the other. Before that, couches and tables with plush chairs littered an equally large patio, all covered by an extended wooden roof.
“Lucas,” I said on a breath, “this is beautiful.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed me to his chest. “I’m glad you like it. Maybe now someone will actually use it.”
“I can come out here?” I asked, surprise lacing my words.
His laugh was silent, but his chest moved with the force of it. “Yes, Briar, you can come out here. You can go anywhere you want.”
“You’ll never be able to get me in from the backyard,” I said excitedly, and he barked out a laugh.
“Come on, let’s feed you.”
We’d spent hours after breakfast talking about nothing and everything while lying on the king-sized lounger in the cabana. I was pressed close to Lucas’s chest as I took my time studying his arms and his face for the first time, my lips twitching into little smiles every time he’d hum in appreciation when my fingers would trail over his tanned skin.
I paused over one of the many scars on the arm I was focused on and chewed on my bottom lip for a second before whispering his name.
One of his dark eyebrows lifted before his eyes slowly opened.
I start
ed to speak but stopped before I could ask my question.
“Whatever it is, ask.”
I searched his eyes for a few seconds, letting my gaze trail to where my fingers were drifting over his forearm. “I thought I knew you,” I began, my voice soft and unsure. “I thought I had you so figured out . . . but your arms make me wonder if there’s a part of you I don’t know at all.”
If I hadn’t been pressed so close to him, I wouldn’t have noticed how still he had become at my comment, because his face and his eyes gave nothing away. But I knew in the way he’d tensed I was right, and there was another layer to my devil I had yet to meet.
And as I lay there waiting for him to respond, I wondered if I wanted to meet him at all.
His brown eyes danced and his chest jerked from the force of his unexpected laugh. “My arms? What exactly are my arms telling you, Blackbird?”
I held his stare as I continued my slow dance up and down his arm. “You live in a multimillion-dollar home and have a driver. You wear suits ninety percent of the time and buy me everything, even if I don’t ask for or want it. You aren’t even thirty and you own an energy company—”
“I’m not the only owner.”
“You own a fifth of it, but it’s an equal share,” I amended. “You live in a world where men buy multiple women who are stolen from their lives, and where rape is a form of teaching those women a lesson. But somehow you’ve all twisted your minds to believe that raping them is still better than what they had before.”
Lucas’s eyes had gradually hardened with each point I brought up, and when he spoke, his voice was tight. “What’s your point, and what do my arms have to do with this?”
Without looking, I moved my hand down to where one of his tattoos began, the design wrapping around the inside of his left forearm. “These don’t fit.”
His eyebrows ticked up. “You don’t like my tattoos?”
“I didn’t say that. I said they don’t fit with the guy I just described. Especially not yours.” Before he could respond, I let my fingers slide up, tracing a long scar. “And neither do these. People have scars, Lucas, but you have so many,” I whispered as I moved to another, and then another. I studied the scar I was touching high up on his arm, and asked, “What happened to you?”