Page 87 of Wrecked By You

“I will. Promise.”

Chapter28

Ella

This is all my fault.

I regainedconsciousness to surroundings I recognized all too well. The wallpaper covering the walls mocked me, and the familiar sheets and silk bedspread imprisoned me. Fear crawled into my throat, little barbs that clung to the tender skin and refused to let go.

Just like Mateo.

I fisted my hair.You’re an idiot!As soon as Johannes had told me how easily that private detective had uncovered my real name, I should have grabbed Chloe and run. But I’d let myself believe in fairy tales. I’d allowed this to happen. Me. My fault.

Chloe.

I leapt off the bed, gripping onto one of the ornate four posts that adorned each corner as my legs gave way. I drew air deep into my lungs and waited for my limbs to steady. Whatever drug he’d given me to knock me out must’ve still been in my system, hence the shakiness in my thighs. After a few seconds, I felt strong enough to cross the room and try the door.

Locked.

Not at all unexpected. I’d run from Mateo once, even though he’d thought his compound impenetrable. Stupid man. Those mercenaries who’d broken in and almost managed to kidnap me and my daughter should have taught him that nowhere was bulletproof. But his arrogance and ego had always led the way and made his decisions for him.

I banged on the door.

“Mateo!”

There was no answer, no footsteps parading down the wide, hardwood floor, no key being inserted in the lock.

I banged again and again until my knuckles bruised. Pacing the room, I searched for anything I could use as a weapon or a means of escape, but Mateo’s men had stripped the room of pretty much everything except for the bed. Even the attached bathroom was empty, apart from a roll of toilet paper and a bar of soap. I returned to the door, but when further banging brought no results, I went back to the bed and sat on the end, cross-legged.

This was Mateo’s idea of punishment—keeping me in the dark and away from my daughter. He’d done it before.

What would Johannes think when he returned to the hotel suite to find us all gone? Would he assume I’d left him, or would he search for me?

No. I didn’t want him looking for me. He’d get drawn into the web of my life, the poison of it, and he didn’t deserve that.

And I didn’t deserve him.

But the joy of these last few weeks, of slowly unpeeling the layers of a dour, grumpy man and finding a kind, beautiful soul beneath, would stay with me for a lifetime. In my darkest moments—and there would be many—I’d retreat inside my mind and relive our time together, including the early days when he’d snarled and snapped and shut me down more times than I could count.

Each one was a precious memory that would sustain me through the horrors my future held.

The lock rattled on the door, and I jumped up, my legs holding steady this time. Two armed guards walked in. One held a tray of food, and the other stood guard by the door. No sign of Mateo.

“Where is he?”

I didn’t need to state whom I meant by “he”. They knew.

And they ignored me.

The one with the tray set it on the bed without even looking at me. He moved away. I jumped in front of him.

“I asked you a question. Where is he?”

His eyes cut to mine, then darted away. “All I’ve been told is to bring that to you.”

“Bullshit,” I snapped. “You’re not leaving until you send your little friend over there to get him.”

The guard heaved a sigh. “Stand aside.”

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