Page 14 of Captive Vows
The speed with which he agreed irked me.
He hadn’t hesitated for long. No. He had only seemed reluctant to react because he wanted to make sure he’d heard me correctly.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to lose her.
No love would be lost between them.
And that lowered her value. His acquiescence reduced the severity and cruelty of this punishment. If he didn’t seem to care about giving her up, was it even a punishment?
That was why I struck out, smacking him with so much force that he flung from the chair. Crying out in both surprise andpain, he dropped to the filthy floor. Rolling once, he moaned like a dying man.
Disappointment filled me that he wouldn’t argue with my terms.
Irritation followed. How could he not want to protect his own flesh and blood?
Why wouldn’t he fight to save her?
How come he acted like he didn’t give a shit about giving me his daughter?
She couldn’t mean much to him. Or perhaps it was a matter of his choosing his life over hers, deeming his life more valuable than hers.
Fuck it.
She wasn’t going to mean much to me, either. This woman was just a pawn. A payment.
I could always sell her later. I could hold her until I could somehow get more value out of her.
I scowled down at Miguel after I beat him. Breathing hard, seething, I once again damned this spineless idiot for trying to betray the Dubinin organization.
6
GABRIELLA
Sleeping on the bench at the dance studio wasn’t comfortable. I tossed and turned. At every little noise I heard, I panicked and couldn’t return to any semblance of drowsiness. Sometime throughout the night, I gave up trying to stay on the narrow bench. Using some yoga mats from a closet and a few clean towels from storage that people used for sweat rags, I made the best bed that I could.
And I slept in it.
That was the story of my life. I made my bed and slept in it. I tried to make the best choices that I could, and I stood by them. I owned everything like that, including the crap I’d had to put up with yesterday.
It was only my fault that I got the hare-brained idea to hit on Oliver. And it was only my fault that I might face backlash from that. He could spread the word about me in a terrible way, and that would backfire epically. But there wasn’t anything I could do about it now. It was done.
I also partly blamed myself for thinking I could be safe in my own home. It had been my choice to stick with my dad after I became a legal adult. Four years had passed after the milestoneof my eighteenth birthday, the date when I was no longer a minor. I didn’thaveto stay with him. I could run away and start over somewhere new, on my own. Yet, I chose not to leave. If I ran and tried to control a new life of my own elsewhere, I’d be further from Juilliard and my dreams to dance on stage. Taking off to live in a different area wouldn’t increase my odds of succeeding in ballet.
I owned my mistakes. I always would.
As I woke up, stiff and sore from trying to sleep on that bench and the floor, I was determined to own my next mistakes, too. Because I’d always make them. That was simply part of being human.
After I stowed the yoga mats and towels back where I found them, I left the dance studio before Amy or her mom could show up to open for the first class of the day. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. My skin was grimy, another unwelcome reminder, one that I needed to shower, and badly.
Heading home, I tried to keep my head held high and concentrate on what I’d do if my dad wasn’t there. I had to be smart about the possibility that Tony, or any other friend of my dad’s, could be loitering there. Depending on how bad my dad’s hangover was, he should’ve shown up by now. Like something the cat would drag in, he’d be there, grumpy and dehydrated, but likely not rethinking his choices like I always tried to do.
If Tony was still there, I’d have to wait him out. Calling my dad was useless. It had gone straight to voicemail. I tried his number as soon as I got to the studio last night.
There was no way in hell I’d go into the apartment with that creep in there. The closer I came to the building, the hotter my anger ran at the idea of his being in my home. The audacity to let himself in just so he could try to force me into having sex withhim. The nerve of barging in and preventing me from reaching my room, the one lockable safe haven I thought I could count on.
When I reached the building, I moved cautiously. Tony had been in the apartment, not out in the open and stalking me. Yet, as I walked up the stairs and continued down the hallways to reach my unit, I couldn’t help but fear someone could be watching. A sixth sense to be alert was triggered. I couldn’t shut off this need to be on guard. Anxiety would stick with me until I knew that no one was in my home, until I could lock a door between me and the rest of the world. This need to beonand never relax dragged me down, but there was no other option for how to survive.
No one approached me in the hallway. Not a single jump scare reached me or had me flinching.
