Chapter 34-1
515 Words
34Yulia
I stare at the dark ceiling, unable to close my eyes despite the late hour. It’s strange being in Lucas’s bed without him… feeling the cold steel of the handcuffs anchoring me to the bedside pole instead of to his wrist. I’ve gotten used to sleeping tucked into his large warm body, and even with the blanket drawn up to my chin, I feel cold and exposed as I lie there alone, trying to relax enough to go to sleep.
Diego and Eduardo have been good jailers so far. They adhered to the routine Lucas must’ve laid out to them, letting me eat, stretch, use the restroom, and read in the comfortable armchair. They also kept me company at mealtimes, though I suspect the food I cooked had a lot to do with that. By the time our dinner was over, I decided that I like both of them—as much as it’s possible to like mercenaries whose job is to keep you captive. Rosa was right about them being good guys; under different circumstances, we might’ve been friends.
I hope Lucas won’t punish them too harshly for my escape—assuming I succeed tomorrow, that is.
Thinking about tomorrow chases away whatever little sleepiness I was beginning to feel. To alleviate my anxiety, I mentally go over the details of my plan again. It’s simple: Right after lunch, I’ll use the tools Rosa gave me to free myself and make a run for the northern border of the estate, where the guards at North Tower Two might be distracted with their poker game. Diego and Eduardo will be at that poker game, so they won’t come looking for me until after six p.m. By then, I’ll be on the delivery truck—which, hopefully, will be far away from Esguerra’s compound at that point.
If all goes well, tomorrow evening I will no longer be Lucas Kent’s prisoner.
I should be excited, but instead, there’s a hollow ache in my chest. The dream from last night—if it was a dream—is still painfully vivid in my mind. For a brief moment, I forgot who we are, what passed between us, and I told Lucas something I didn’t know myself until that moment.
“Do you hate me?” he asked, and like an i***t, I said I loved him.
I admitted my terrible, irrational weakness to a man who’s hurt me with every weapon I’ve given him.
Maybe I didn’t say the words out loud. Maybe it was a dream—or, more precisely, a nightmare. Except if that’s the case, why did Lucas bring up last night when he was telling me goodbye? Why did he say that he’ll miss me?
Groaning, I turn onto my side and punch the pillow with my free hand. I must be sick, or at least brainwashed by my captivity. I can’t be in love with a man who intends to destroy my brother.
I can’t be the i***t who’s fallen for a killer with an ice rock instead of a heart.
I’ll miss you.
His deep voice whispers through my mind, and I squeeze my eyelids together, trying to shut it out. Whatever I’m feeling, whether it’s love or temporary insanity, will pass once I’m far away from here.
I have to believe that, so I can focus on my escape.
- Writer
