Page 28 of Keep Me

My bedroom is large, the second-largest room in the house, Anna said. It has an en suite bathroom, a giant closet, and its own small balcony that overlooks the garden.

Everything in the room is dated and ornate, save for the few random modern things like the flat-screen TV mounted above the dresser and the wireless charger on the nightstand.

When I drop my phone on the charger, my arms are so tired, it lands in the wrong spot and falls to the floor in the space between the table and the bed. With an exhausted sigh, I kneel down and reach for the phone on the floor.

Just as my fingers brush the device, my gaze lands on something strange. It’s a black leather strap fastened to the post.

“What the…?” My fingers touch the strap, grazing along the frayed edge, where it was clearly cut. I quickly stand up and inspect the rest of the bedposts, but they don’t have the same leather strap.

Furrowing my brow, I try to imagine which of the Barclay children was likely to stay in this room with its kinky black straps.Inwardly, I laugh at the idea that little miss uptight Anna would have a wild side.

After tearing my dress off and tossing it in a pile on the floor, I go to the bathroom and run a scalding hot bath with a big fat scoop of rose-scented bath salts. As I lower my body into the tub, I let out a sigh of relief.

This isn’t so bad. I can do this.

Technically, all I have to do for the year is get through each day and somehow manage to keep Killian Barclay from screwing anyone else. Knowing now that he never leaves the house, my job actually got a little easier.

It doesn’t state anywhere in my contract that I also have to help turn this man’s life around. It’s not up to me to get him to heal from the loss of his parents or get over this fear of leaving his house. I’m not a spiritual healer. Or a therapist. Or a miracle worker.

My job is simple. Stay married to Killian for a year and get ten million bucks for it.

What am I stressing about?

“Sylvie.” Anna’s voice calls through the door of my bedroom.

“I’m in the bath. Don’t come in,” I call back in a lazy monotone drawl.

“We’re just leaving. We’ve put Killian to bed. He…had a lot to drink today. I’ll stop by tomorrow to check on things.”

“Good night,” I grumble back in a low call.

She hesitates. “Good night.”

Her heels click against the floor as she retreats from my door. A few minutes later, I hear the front door close in the distance.

Then, the house is quiet.Soquiet.

It’s an eerie sort of silence that makes me uncomfortable. Like the silence before a scream or the blast of a bomb. I can’t stand it.

It’s the sound of being alone with him. Even if he is sleeping in his own room down the hall. This silence means everyone is gone. There is no buffer between us.

Snatching my phone from the counter next to the tub, I openthe music app and start playing something upbeat and melodic. Only a few minutes in, I realize it doesn’t fit with the moment, so I find something slower and more relaxing. When I’ve picked the perfect playlist, I drop the phone on the counter and let the sound echo against the walls of the giant bathroom.

I sink deeper into the tub and try to just melt into the relaxation. I wish I could turn my mind off, but I can’t. I just keep going back to the events of the day. The wedding. The feel of Killian’s enormous hand in mine. The fake smile he wore for the pictures. The way he stared into my eyes as we said our vows. The smell of smoke on his clothes as he stepped up so close to me.

So far, he is nothing more than a montage of moments to me. Most of them are harsh and unpleasant. Is this how the year will be? Will I ever truly know and understand him? Will I grow to like him?

No. I’ve never grown to like anyone, not really. I grew to like Margot once and look at how that ended.

It’s best I don’t try with Killian. Keep him at arm’s length. Never dive too deep. Don’t look too close.

I don’t know how much time passes as I sit in the hot water, letting my mind drift quietly through my thoughts. Maybe six songs have gone by when I hear a crash out in the hallway.

I jolt, my eyes popping open as I sit upright and watch the door to the bathroom. I left it open, but I’m almost positive I locked my bedroom door.

Didn’t I?

What if Killian breaks in? What if he thinks that now that I’m his wife, he can just barge in and take what he wants?

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