Page 80 of Love Bleeds Red
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BAILEY - PRESENT DAY
I markanother day on the legal pad I pilfered from the study. It’s not an exact calendar, but between this and my view of the grounds, I have a close enough idea of the date. It’s been another three months since that townhouse. Nine months altogether. Summer to fall to winter and now spring again.
So many seasons in this beautiful prison, and I’m no longer the girl who arrived here trembling and broken. That girl died three months ago in a London townhouse, watching helplessly as monsters devoured another person I care about.
This morning, like most others, I sit across from Sir at the breakfast table, my spine straight, my face a mask of neutrality. He barely touches his food, which is unusual for him. He normally takes such deliberate pleasure in his meals, taunting me with each measured bite. Instead, he pushes the eggs around his plate with his fork, pausing occasionally to press his fingertips against his temple.
My focus is elsewhere though, inside I’m plotting how to sneak into the kitchen again and grab another carving knife from the block.
“You seem distant lately, my dear,” Sir says as he places his fork on the side of his plate. “Ms. Harrington mentioned you’ve been less responsive during your lessons.”
I pick at my bowl of bland cantaloupe, wishing I could throw it across the room. I know I should be grateful I have food to eat at all. Every time I think back to the days of living in King’s holding house with the others I’m racked with guilt. It was a different kind of torture. The hunger pangs that would make me unable to sleep, weak enough to barely lift my limbs. Exactly how King wanted me—a weak, exhausted, starving girl who could only fight back with words, not fists.
“I apologize if my demeanor has been unsatisfactory, Sir,” I reply, keeping my voice as expressionless as my face. Polite enough to keep him happy, but not the warmth I used to fake.
He rubs his temple, studying me. “On the contrary, I find this side of you to be more mature. You’re growing into yourself. Becoming the woman you were meant to be.”
The woman you made me become.
In his twisted mind my coldness equals sophistication, my withdrawal a trait he’s been artfully crafting. After all this time, I don’t even remember what it’s like to be me. The old me, before they all molded me like a clay doll.
I’ll let him think that he’s winning. That the woman he purchased and carefully cultivated is still trembling and afraid. He has no idea that every night, I dream of Polly’s blank face as she stood in front of King. If not her, then Cat, or Jasmine, or Lydia.
Let him be blind to the rage simmering in my chest like a low flame, waiting patiently to incinerate everything he holds dear.
“Ms. Harrison will be busy today making preparations for a special guest,” he says, glancing at me from the rim of his cup. “Polly will escort you.”
Warring reactions bounce through me. A guest is never a good thing, but at least Polly and I will have some alone time today. Maybe we can solidify a plan. I’m more than ready.
“Who is the guest, Sir?” I ask sweetly.
He swallows a sip of tea, and smiles. I brace myself for his response. “A very important young man. Someone I’ve been telling you about for some time now.”
“How lovely,” I say, feeling the urge to vomit. “When will he be arriving, Sir?”
“Tomorrow night. I’ve been waiting too long for him to accept that home is where he belongs. He’s finally accepting my offer.”
Home?This man must be related to Sir—a brother or maybe even a son.
“He must be very special to you, Sir.”
His eyes gleam. “Indeed. It’s taken some time to realize his value, but now I have great plans for him. For both of you, actually.”
I spear another piece of melon onto my fork. “Plans?”
His expression changes in a snap and I know I’ve pushed too hard. He clears his throat. “That’s enough questions, Bailey. Patience is a virtue.”
I bow my head, focusing on chewing the melon so I don’t get myself into more trouble.
Sir stands and smoothes out his pants. “I want you to look your absolute best tomorrow. Ms. Harrington will prepare something special for you to wear. First impressions are so important, don’t you think?”
“Of course,” I say.
He narrows his eyes. “Of course,Sir.”
“Yes, I apologize,Sir.” The simmering spark in my chest flickers from his annoyance.
