Page 36 of Broken Hearts

15

Celeste

The world was whirling,spinning, reeling. Literally and figuratively. Alex spun me around and around on the ice, and for the first time in over a week, I almost cracked a smile. Almost.

In an attempt to make me happy and build up my appetite, he’d taken me down to the frozen-over creek on his property to ice-skate all afternoon. Apparently the ice was already thick enough, even though it was only partway through November, seeing as the cold weather had started so early this year. I hadn’t skated in years, and I had to admit, I enjoyed it.

Making me happy was seemingly Alex’s latest pet project—he’d been sucking up to me for the last five days, saying he was sorry for hurting me and offering me almost anything under the sun in return for my affection.

All the rules had gone out the window. I still hadn’t been collared again, and when he was home, I was allowed to go wherever I wanted on the property, as long as he accompanied me. When he was out, I had to be locked back up in my room again, but that wasn’t very frequent, as he’d been taking so much time off work lately.

The changes had thrown me off guard. I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with Alex, and I felt like my mind was melting under all the confusion. When he looked at me, I saw naked tenderness in his eyes, and for a few seconds every time, it made me think he genuinely loved me even though he’d never said the words. It made me giddy, given my unwanted yet ever-present and strong feelings for him, and I had to look at the photo of Evangeline every day to remind myself to stop feeling anything for him; to remind myself that he couldn’t be trusted.

Every day I was tempted to scream in his face: What about Evangeline Gibson? Who was she? Why did you choose her? What happened to her? But I was too frightened to do so, not knowing what his reaction would be and wanting to preserve my life as long as possible.

If he just admitted that she existed without my prompting, and that he had her with him before me, maybe then I could forgive him and trust that he wasn’t going to hurt me. But he kept telling me there was nothing to admit. Nothing he’d lied about.

The photos said otherwise—he hurt that girl, and she’d definitely been in his house.

I was willing to give him one allowance and accept that I may have overreacted when I jumped to the conclusion that he killed her. My initial thought after reading her note was that she couldn’t stand to be here anymore and possibly committed suicide. Later, I changed my mind and decided it was more likely that Alex killed her after her escape attempt (and that he’d eventually kill me too), but now I was leaning back toward the former option.

Perhaps she did kill herself. Perhaps Alex really did love her, and he was truly devastated when she died. Perhaps he’d learned from the experience and realized he couldn’t hurt a girl so badly if he wanted her to stay with him. Perhaps I was reaping the benefits of that experience, and he really wouldn’t hurt or kill me one day.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t be sure of anything anymore. Tomorrow, I could be warm and healthy, or I could be cold and dead. There was no way for me to truly know what my future held.

“Are you cold?” Alex asked, coming to a stop on the ice. “Your nose is turning bright pink.”

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s freezing out here.”

“I’ll keep you warm.”

His arms circled my waist, and I melted against him before I could stop myself. I closed my eyes, resting my head on his shoulder as I breathed in his musky scent. For a moment, it was easy for me to pretend he was simply my boyfriend, and we were a cute couple on a weekend getaway. After this skating expedition, we’d head back to our rented winter cabin and join our friends for mulled cider and hot chocolate before heading out for a gourmet dinner downtown. Then we’d make love in front of a roaring fire on a thick wooly rug, and afterwards we’d lie there together and make all sorts of plans for our future.

I wanted that fantasy to be real so badly. I wanted to pretend Alex was just that, my sweet, caring boyfriend, and not my ever-mysterious silver-tongued captor.

I suppose, in a weird, twisted sense, he was my boyfriend—we lived together, prepared and ate meals together, spent time together, and he’d taken my virginity and given me countless orgasms. He was the only man who’d ever been in my life in this way; the only man who’d ever brought me such pleasures. If we’d met under different circumstances, I’d probably be hoping for a marriage proposal by now.

When I opened my eyes, reality hit me like a cold slap in the face. Literally. Icy winds picked up around us, howling and whipping a nearby pile of twigs into a frenzy, and Alex pulled back and looked down at me, an unreadable expression on his face. It was just us, and I was still a prisoner with no idea what the future held. “Let’s head inside. I’ll make hot chocolate,” he said.

At least some of the fantasy was true, I guess.

We trudged back to the house, and I stood by the fire in the main sitting room, warming my hands. Alex prepared our drinks, then came to stand by me. “I forgot to tell you. The cat shelter sent a thank you card after our donation,” he said as he handed me a mug. “I’ll put it in your room later so you can read it.”

“Thank you, sir,” I murmured. I knew I didn’t have to call him that—I was allowed to call him Alex now, and sometimes I did—but it was such a force of habit that I still called him ‘sir’ at least seventy percent of the time.

I’d decided to finally accept his bribe and let him donate a big chunk of money to my favorite animal shelter. I figured even if he did turn out to be a raging sociopath who wanted to kill me one day, at least something good would come out of my captivity. I’d watched him transfer the money the other day, so I knew those cats were really getting help. It wasn’t just a lie he told to make me feel better.

“Is there anything else I can do?” Alex asked, his brows drawing together in a curious frown. “To make you feel better.”

I swallowed hard. “Yes. You could let me go.”

He shook his head sadly. “I wish you would understand that I can’t,” he said.

“Right. Because there are people after me,” I muttered. Allegedly.

“Yes. People who will hurt you.”

By now I was certain that wasn’t true, but there was no point arguing. Alex wasn’t going to let me go. Not now, not ever.

I turned my head to face the fire again so that he wouldn’t see the tears glittering in my eyes. No matter how much he looked at me like he was in love with me, no matter how much he acted like a wonderfully caring boyfriend, I couldn’t be convinced that he actually loved me.

When it came down to it, I was still a captive, trapped here against my will. I would never be allowed to see my friends again or go wherever I wanted. I would never feel the rush of endless possibilities that freedom brought; the good and the bad. I wanted all that, and Alex refused to give it to me. He wasn’t my boyfriend, he wasn’t truthful about why he was keeping me here, and he didn’t love me.

If he did, he’d set me free.

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