Page 2 of Ensnared
My brother took a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly as he studied my face. "You always say that," he said after swallowing. "I find it hard to believe he hasn't touched you."
I sighed, feeling the weight of my secrets. "Logan, I would tell you if he hurt me."
"You're a beautiful girl," Logan persisted. "Why wouldn't he be interested?"
"There are plenty of beautiful girls with better breeding than me," I countered, my voice bitter. "He doesn't want me, he just wants to bully me."
Logan's gaze suddenly shifted, focusing on something over my shoulder. I turned, my heart sinking as I spotted Vaughn striding across the lobby with his sister, Simone.
My fingers clenched around my wrap. Simone had been the bane of my existence in high school, and though her torment had lessened now that we worked on different floors, her mere presence still set my teeth on edge.
As they passed, Simone's eyes locked onto mine for a moment. Her lips curled into a smirk that sent a chill down my spine. I turned back to Logan, my appetite suddenly gone.
"You okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.
I nodded, forcing myself to take a bite of my wrap. As I chewed, I thought about the Ashworth family - the ruthless Colson, the cruel Simone, the obsessive Vaughn. Only Easton, the youngest, had ever shown me kindness.
"You know," Logan said, breaking into my thoughts, "You don't have to stay here. We could find jobs somewhere else, somewhere without all this... baggage."
I shook my head. "This is our chance, Logan. We can't throw it away because of a little discomfort."
Logan's expression darkened. "A little discomfort? Joey, this is…."
"I can handle it," I cut him off, my voice firmer than I felt. "Really, I can and think about the wrath that would fall on Mom and Dad if we left."
Our parents not only lived on Colson’s property but also worked for him. My father was the supervisor of the landscaping crew, and my mother did most of the cooking for the Ashworth family. They would be in jeopardy if we up and left unless we could take them with us and support them.
My brother shut his mouth because he knew what I meant. Neither of us had enough experience to get another job, and without it, Colson would ensure that we never got another job in the finance field.
As we finished our lunch in tense silence, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen. It was the way when you were scared, and the back of your neck prickled. I felt it in the air.
I was thankful Vaughn went on a business trip. I could breathe until he came back; however, Colson was still in the building. The office atmosphere shifted palpably on Thursday. A ripple of hushed whispers spread through the cubicles, growing in intensity until the elevator doors slid open. Colson Ashworth stepped out, his presence bringing an almost tangible chill to the air.
I shrank down in my seat, memories of childhood fear flooding back. Colson had always been a looming, intimidating figure - gruff, rude, and seemingly incapable of warmth, especially towards children.
As he strode past, his cold gaze sweeping the office floor, I couldn't help but think of his late wife, Poppy. She had been Colson's polar opposite - warm, vibrant, able to light up a room with her mere presence. Everyone had loved Poppy.
My chest tightened as I remembered the day we learned of her death twelve years ago. A car accident caused by faulty brakes - it had been devastating. But the aftermath... I suppressed a shudder. Colson's revenge had been swift and merciless. He'd ensured the mechanic received a life sentence and then systematically destroyed the man's family, leaving them financially ruined.
As Colson disappeared into the elevator, the tense atmosphere lingered. I found myself grateful for Vaughn's business trip, providing a brief respite from his relentless pursuit. But with Colson prowling the halls, I realized there was no true escape from the Ashworth family's influence.
I turned back to my computer, trying to focus on my work. But a nagging feeling persisted - a sense that the fragile balance I'd been maintaining was about to be upended. With Colson on the warpath and Vaughn's inevitable return looming, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was caught in the calm before a storm.
I was elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing away at the remnants of our modest dinner of spaghetti when the doorcreaked open. The clock on the wall ticked past 8 p.m., and I felt a twinge of worry. Mom was later than usual.
"Joey, what are you doing?" Her voice, tinged with exasperation, cut through the quiet of the kitchen.
I glanced over my shoulder, taking in her weary form. "Cleaning," I replied, turning back to the sink.
"You worked all day. You should rest," she chided, her footsteps approaching.
I frowned, my hands stilling in the lukewarm water. "Mom, you worked all day too. Why are you so late?"
She let out a heavy sigh, and I could practically hear her eyes rolling. "That Vaughn!" she exclaimed. "He decided to have a little get-together last minute and asked for some appetizers."
My nose wrinkled involuntarily, anger bubbling up inside me. "I hate that jerk," I spat, the words tasting bitter.
Mom's finger flew to her lips, her eyes darting nervously as if the walls had ears. Our tiny home at the corner of the sprawling Ashworth estate suddenly felt claustrophobic. I remembered the woods just beyond, where I'd spent countless childhood hours lost in books until Vaughn inevitably found me.
