Page 24 of Lost Petal

Chapter 14

J

“It’s been more than twenty-four hours.”

I don’t like the tone in her voice, nor do I like the way Malia is looking at me right now. It’s early in the morning, not even 6 a.m. She just came down from her room, still in the process of fixing the stiff sleeves of her black dress in an open display of discomfort as she joins me in the kitchen. A crease is drawn right through the middle between her thick brows and her black eyes are narrowed as she looks up at me.

“You said she’d only have to be in that basement for a few hours in the beginning,” she adds. “And maybe for... punishments, later.”

She bites her lower lip, looking disgusted.

I ignore her dismay for now and fetch the glass carafe from the coffeemaker, holding it up as I cast her a polite but distant smile.

“Coffee?”

The expression on her face darkens. “Will she get any?”

I shake my head. “She will. Once she deserves it.”

An exasperated sigh flees her lips, and despite never giving an answer to my question, she gladly accepts the mug filled with freshly brewed coffee when I hand it to her. She’s unable to muster more than a quick glance as a thank you, turning her back to me as she walks over to the dining table. We’ve never shared a meal at this table, and I doubt we ever will. Malia is here under contract and not because we’re bonded by some kind of relationship, or even a friendship. From the moment she stepped inside this mansion, she has been on guard, her stance tense and the expression on her face either sad or hardened.

I can’t blame her. I know how difficult this must be for her, but I hope for her sake that she will get her shit together. Because I need her.

Petal needs her.

I follow Malia to the dining table, my eyes scanning the wide and airy living room that connects to the open kitchen. French doors on two sides of the big room lead out to the terrace, with a view of the sea and the popular cliff walk, but the curtains are still closed, shielding us from the sun outside that only peeks through the small gaps in between.

“You should take a walk,” I suggest. “I hear the weather is supposed to be nice today. Sunny, but not as hot.”

I’m standing next to the table, sipping on my own coffee while I see her turning to me from my peripheral vision. I don’t have to see her face to imagine the expression she’s throwing at me right now.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Jay,” she hisses. “And I’m not leaving her alone with you. You know I won’t.”

I sigh, not surprised at her response.

“You have to trust me,” I say, facing her indignant look. “Otherwise, this can’t work.”

She huffs. “How am I supposed to trust you? You’re already going against your word by keeping her down there for this long!”

“Trust me, she will get out of that basement today,” I say, adding in a lower tone, “I’d be surprised if she didn’t.”

Malia regards me with a skeptical look, her eyebrows arched and her head slightly tilted to the side.

“So it will depend on something she does?”

“You know I can’t share those details with you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” she asks. “It’s not that l have no imagination, Jay. If you don’t tell me, I’ll just imagine the worst.”

“Fine with me.”

She rolls her eyes, sighing heavily.

“I’m not sending you away from here so I can mistreat her,” I assure her. “I just think a walk would be good for you. Get some fresh air, clear your head. But don’t talk to anybody.”

Malia frowns at me. “Of course I wouldn’t.”

She brings the mug up to her mouth again, taking big swigs of her coffee that suggest she didn’t sleep much either. I know I haven’t, and neither has Petal.

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