Page 27 of Ensnared
I sat down on the edge of the bed and smoothed his damp hair from his forehead. “You were having a nightmare.”
He nodded. “I have them sometimes…my mother.”
“How come you never told me?”
Easton scrubbed his face. “I - it’s always been something I’ve tucked away. It was my fault.”
“How? You were asleep.”
He sighed, sitting up. “The last place we were going was for me. I nagged her until she promised to take me to the model store. I wanted a plane to replace the one I broke. She wanted to go the next day, but I insisted it had to be that day.”
My heart broke for Easton. He was carrying around a guilty burden that wasn’t his.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I insisted. “Colson told me the brakes were messed up.”
“I keep thinking that maybe we would’ve made it home before the accident.”
“It might’ve happened on the road back, but you can’t feel guilty. The shop fucked up. They made a mistake.”
Easton nodded. “I guess.”
“Do you feel better?” I asked.
He smiled weakly. “I do. I think I can go back to sleep. Thank you.”
I let his hand go and rose. “Sleep well.”
As I headed for the door, he called to me. “Joey?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you stay with me?”
His eyes pleaded with me to stay yes. I had a few hours before I needed to get up, but I would do it because he needed me. It wouldn’t be much different than when we were teenagers and fell asleep while reading, our bodies nestled against each other.
“Sure.”
He folded the covers back on the opposite side of the bed and I slipped inside, snuggling against the pillow. He turned out the light and when he was settled, I reached over to grasp his hand. It was how we fell asleep.
Breakfast was quiet, the kind of quiet that suffocates. It was just me and Colson, and I could feel the anger radiating off him like heat from a fire. Whatever was bothering him, it was simmering beneath the surface, waiting to erupt. We were halfway to Manhattan before he finally broke the silence.
"Did you sleep well?" His voice was cold, and when he turned to look at me, his eyes were like ice—sharp, unyielding, and terrifying.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I did. The beds are very soft."
Colson carefully folded The Financial Times, his movements deliberate, as if each fold was part of some calculated plan. He set the newspaper aside, his gaze never leaving me. My heart pounded in my chest as I waited, sensing the storm that wasabout to break. When he reached over and hit the button for the privacy window, sealing us off from the driver, I knew whatever was coming wasn’t good.
"You should know," he began, his tone measured, "that the hallways have hidden cameras, as do other areas of the house."
I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest, a futile attempt to shield myself from the impending confrontation. "Do you want to say something?"
Colson didn’t answer with words. Instead, he moved faster than I could react, lunging across the limo and wrapping his hand around my throat, pulling me under him. The sheer force of his aggression stole the breath from my lungs, leaving me gasping in shock.
"You should also know," he hissed, his grip tightening, "that I can monitor the activity in and around the house from my laptop. I often wake up around 2 a.m. each night. I can survive on four or five hours of sleep. Usually, I exercise or work out on my bike but not this morning. This morning, I was checking the camera feeds and saw you enter my son’s room..."
His fingers dug into my throat, cutting off my air supply. I clawed at his wrist, desperate for release, but he was too strong. Panic surged through me as my vision began to blur with silver dots.
"You haven’t signed the prenup yet, and I expect it to be done this morning," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
