10
Gilded Cage
Miranda
As soon as solid ground touched my feet again, I pulled away from Simon Escobar, leaving him clutching empty air.
However, he didn’t seem angered by the immediate distance I’d put between us. Again he wore that almost lazy smile, as though he knew he had the upper hand here. “Welcome home,” he said.
I took a quick glance around. As far as I could tell, his new hideout looked like a typical pueblo-style Santa Fe house, with high beamed ceilings and tile floors. We stood in the eating area off the kitchen, which was shiny and appeared to have been recently remodeled, all top-of-the-line stainless appliances and polished stone countertops. “This isn’t my home,” I flung back at him, and he shrugged.
“It is now. You agreed to come with me. Remember what will happen
