Page 47 of Cautious

I hear Christian’s voice from nearby, close but not in the same room. I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. When I don’t hear the door open, I squint my eyes again and do a quick sweep of the room to double-check it’s empty. Once I determine I’m alone, I sit up gingerly, hoping to get a better idea of where I am now.

Once my brain manages to free itself from its sluggish state, two things quickly become apparent. The first is that I’ve been drugged again. There is no way they could have moved me without me waking up.

The second thing is that I’m well and truly screwed. I see clouds. Big, white, fluffy clouds. Not only am I not in the sameroom as before, I’m not even in the same house. How did he get me on a plane without anyone asking any questions?

I try to rein in my panic, but that’s beyond impossible at this point. I have no idea where I am or how the hell I’m supposed to get free from Christian now. The room begins to spin again as I struggle to suck in enough air.

The last thing I remember is being given a bottle of water and a sandwich by the woman who had been sent to clean the room. I’d left the sandwich, but the bottle was sealed so I thought I was safe to drink it.

I can hear Christian talking again in clipped tones that seem to be drawing closer. My chest pulls tight as black spots appear in front of me, my breathing coming in short, sharp pants until I feel myself topple over sideways, and then I feel nothing.

“I don’t want her taking any more of this shit. It won’t do for her to develop a habit.” I hear Christian’s voice break through my thoughts, but I don’t answer or open my eyes.Fuck him.

“That is unlikely to happen, although no drugs are one hundred percent safe, Christian. She must just be more susceptible to them than most.”

I recognize John’s tired voice.

“Well, I need her awake and cognizant, so give her something to wake her up and get her fucking ready,” Christian snaps a moment before a door slams shut.

I hear the doctor sigh and then the rustling of someone looking through a bag. I don’t know what he’s planning on giving me, but whatever it is, I don’t want it. I moan softly and blink my eyes open.

He turns to look at me, appearing far more disheveled than before and offers me a wry smile. “You’re awake,” he tells me unnecessarily.

“What happened?” I ask, curious to see what lie he will go with now.

He looks at me, staring into my eyes without speaking for so long I start to squirm. “You should get dressed,” he finally answers before turning away.

Well, thanks for nothing, asshole. I sit up slowly and swing my legs around, sliding them off the edge of the bed just as the door opens again, revealing an angry-looking Christian with a clothing bag slung over his arm. He all but throws it at me before stepping forward and grabbing my jaw in a painful grip.

“You have twenty minutes to get cleaned up and put on everything inside that bag. If you’re not done by then, I will dress you my fucking self. Don’t test me,” he snaps before releasing me.

His mood swing gives me emotional whiplash, but it’s nothing compared to the thought of his hands on me. Before I can control my reaction, I gag, and it’s only by sheer will that I keep down the vomit I feel crawling up my throat.

Picking up on my discomfort, he bends down until his face is so close to mine I can feel and smell his whiskey-laced breath upon my skin.

“You’ll regret that tonight. I could have made it good for both of us, not that I care if you like it or not. It was merely going to be a goodwill gesture, but that little display, along with your blatant lies, just serves as a reminder that you need training. And when better to start than our wedding night?”

I stare at him in confusion, his words not making sense until they slam into me like a sledgehammer. “Wedding night? Training? Are you out of your mind—” I’m cut off abruptly when the back of his hand flies down in an arc and smashes into mycheekbone. The pain is instant, a burst of blinding white behind my eye before a bone-deep ache takes over the left side of my face.

I try to scramble away from him, but he reaches out and grabs my hair, yanking me back as a blaze of fire rips through my scalp.

“Get dressed. You now have fifteen minutes. Don’t keep me waiting, Callie. I am not a patient man.” He lets me go with a shove before turning on his heel and leaving once more.

I don’t try to stem my tears. I don’t think I could if I tried, but I do turn to look at the man behind me who stood idly by and did nothing.

“He had cameras in all the rooms. He might have bought your amnesia act if you hadn’t tried to escape or arm yourself the second we left the room,” John informs me, which I guess explains Christian’s hostility. “You didn’t speed up the timeline though. This was always his plan. We were only going to stay long enough for Christian to collect his belongings, empty his safe, and set the next part of his plan in motion. You just pissed him off with your lies.”

I bristle at his words as I gingerly climb off the bed, snagging up the garment bag before moving over to the bathroom. I pause in the doorway, turning to look over my shoulder at John, who is looking at me remorsefully.

“I don’t know you. I don’t know if you have a wife, a sister, or a daughter at home.”

He flinches, letting me know he has at least one of them.

“I can only hope that if they ever find themselves at the hands of a monster, they have someone in their corner who will stand up for them. Someone who will protect them, not stand by while they are abused. I hope that man is a better fucking man than you,” I spit out before walking into the tiny bathroom and closing the door behind me.

I lean back against it and give in to the tears, promising that if I just let myself have this moment to cry, I’ll be strong again when I need to be. The problem is, I don’t want to be strong. I want to curl into a ball and hide under the bed like I used to when I was a little girl.

It takes me more than a few precious moments to catch my breath and get my breathing somewhat under control. Mindful of the time I have left, I lift the bag and lower its zipper. A startled cry escapes when I see what’s inside.

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