Page 11 of Shattered Hope
I let myself fall on the couch; suddenly not sure my legs would hold me up. “I had no idea. I know you don’t believe me, and honestly, you have no reason to, but I truly had no idea what this building was,” I assured him. “All I wanted was a roof over my head for the night, nothing else.”
“We’ll see about that.”
His words echoed in the room, and once more, I wished I had stayed in the cold streets.
“I guess we will.”
“Where are you from?” he said, clearly not done with the interrogation, but the housekeeper interrupted him, announcing dinner was ready.
The food was simply amazing. After spending a few days eating ramen day and night, because it’s cheap… eating the three course meal was heaven.
The vegetable soup wiped the cold out of my system and the stuffed chicken breast, in tomato sauce, with sautéed potatoes was to die for. If that wasn’t enough, Susan also served a delicious chocolate cake.
Fortunately, Mr. Wells refrained from asking questions while we ate, so I was able to enjoy it to the last crumb.
“When was the last time you had a good meal?” he asked me, while we enjoyed the coffee Susan had just brought.
“Not today, that’s for sure,” I admitted, grimacing.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” he noted.
“Which one?” I retorted, hinting a smile.
“Where are you from?”
“I would rather not answer any questions about me. It doesn’t concern you,” I replied, putting down the empty cup.
Though I doubted Daniel ever had any reason to contact him, I couldn’t take any chances. My appearance was enough to set him on track. Perhaps, it was time to dye my hair blond and put on brown contact lenses. There wasn’t much I could do with my skin color or my Polynesian features, but the change of colors might send him off course.
“Your looks tell me of Hawaiian heritage, but your eyes aren’t so common among the Polynesian,” he said, studying me across the table.
“Why, Hawaiian? I could be native American…” I said, not willing to admit anything.
“No… I’m sure it’s Hawaiian.”
I had to admit I was intrigued by his confidence. Most people couldn’t tell them apart. Again, I didn’t confirm his suspicions.
“What happens now? Will you let me go?” I asked, instead.
“Do you have a death wish? The storm has worsened,” he pointed out.
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with that when I was trying to convince you to let me stay,” I protested, scowling.
He shrugged while admiring the rich color of his Oporto. “I was sure you had your car parked outside. I didn’t believe your story.”
“And you do now?” I asked in disbelief.
He wouldn’t change his mind that easily. I bet he didn’t trust many people, and I was sure I wasn’t amongst those few.
“No… but I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“How generous of you,” I spurted, though I immediately bit my tongue. Really? Why was I provoking the man? “So… what happens now?”
He looked at me, and for the first time since we met a few hours ago, I saw raw lust in his eyes. My heart stopped for a moment before it jumped into a frantic pace, and I had to force myself to stay in my chair, while all my instincts shouted in alarm.
“I decided to take you up on your offer,” he finally said, putting down his empty glass.
Blood drained from my face, and I gasped, my hands clenched into tight fists as I tried to find a way to get out of this mess.
