Page 106 of The Freedom in Captivity

Coward.

Not a coward, I think, as rationalism slips in. He’s finished with me. When he snuck into my room, we both knew it was to say goodbye. Neither of us saw this as the next stage, so last night was merely a bonus. That’s two goodbyes now.

I push to my feet. “Why are you here?”

“Upholding my end of the agreement. But first,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out three thin chains, which he hands over to me, “wanted to give you these.”

Necklaces? The silver strings dangle from my hands with a single pendant at the end. A tiny, glass bottle with grey powder inside.

“Your father,” Nico explains. “Well, his ashes. I had this overnight expressed. For all the hell he’s brought to your later years, you did have positive ones when you were younger and one day, you might regret not having a piece of him around. One for you, one for Yasmine, and one for your mother’s burial site. For better or worse, at some point, you all loved him, even your mother.”

He…he made necklaces. Of Dad’s ashes. Of his own enemy, to give to a woman he hates. This isn’t the Nico Corsetti I grew up hearing about.

“If you give me the location of your mother, I’ll see to it personally that one gets buried with her. Or you can toss them away and never think of him again, but this way, you have the choice. My advice, choose well, Rozelyn.” He pauses, rolling his lips together. “It was Flynn’s idea. I was perfectly happy with dumping his body elsewhere, but Flynn had the idea to get him cremated and have this done for you.”

Of course, it was Flynn. No matter what I do to that man, a piece of his heart will always reveal itself, regardless of how hard he tries to hide it. No matter the curse words, the protective behaviours, the hateful actions,ma lunealways encompasses more than he even comprehends.

My hand tightens around the chains and I lower them to my lap. Now isn’t the time to make a decision on these, and he’s right. The thought ofanypart of that abuser in my life makes me sick, but one day…five years from now…I might think differently. Yasmine might feel differently, because the numerous versions of her status he told yesterday, I don’t know which one is true at this time.

I rub at my face, trying to remain in the present and not fall into my emotions, while Nico watches on with a slight tilt to his head.

“Well,” he says after a moment of silence, “Della left clean clothes for you in the bathroom. Shower. I’ll return in thirty minutes.”

Then he turns to open the door, but I stop him with, “Return for what?”

“You’re free, Rozelyn. A promise is a promise.”

He leaves, and not wanting to waste a minute of the thirty he’s given to me, I strip and rush into the bathroom. IntoFlynn’sbathroom, but I fight to ignore that fact and treat it exactly how I did my temporary, pretty cage upstairs.

I pour a healthy amount of shampoo into my hand and wash my hair until it smells like his. Wash my body until I leave here coated in his scent.

Pathetic.Wanting to smell like a man who’s not even here to say goodbye. Couldn’t care less about me leaving.

The notion has me scowling beneath the water that suddenly feels cooler so I quicken and get out. Dry myself with his towel and exit the bathroom, not wanting to touch anything more than I must. At the end of Flynn’s bed, the necklaces of Dad’s ashes wait, so I dress in the jeans, shirt, and cardigan Della left, and shove them into the front pocket.

Exactly thirty minutes later, Nico returns with a quick knock at the door and then throws it open, despite me not giving permission.

He scans me from head to toe before turning around and commanding, “Come.”

At the doorway, I pause, glancing around the small space, recalling every single memory spent here. The first time he brought me here when he believed I was trying to seduce him, but I was so wrapped up in the memories. To the latest time, last night, with him soothing me as I cried out wave after wave of heartbreak, grief, and contentment.

The bed where we first had sex after eleven years of heartbreak. Of each of us pretending to be over one another. Of me shutting it all off with the fear Dad would hunt him down. Of him believing me to be a villain and closing his heart off from the world. Both of us stuck in our spiral, only an hour’s drive away from one another.

This feels worse than the first time I said goodbye. That was to protect him. This feels…empty. Like I have a second chance, which I’m throwing away. Is it truly a second chance though? It’s one neither of us planned for. One neither of us explicitly stated wanting. Everything occurring in my captivity wasn’t from our hearts, but rather our need to clear the air. To start at ground zero and we did precisely that.

Eleven years ago, I walked away from him. Today, he walked away from me.

So I walk too.

I follow Nico to my left, out the side entrance I’ve never paid attention to, but it’s there. Just a few feet from Flynn’s bedroom, an exit this entire time. Nico opens the door and steps outside, pausing by the black sports car parked there. He heads right for the driver’s side.

I glance behind me at the shut door. That was the last time I’d be inside that mansion, but it feels…lackluster. No one, not even Della, came to say goodbye. I was useful for a time, but I’ve run my course. Della said what she needed to, Aurora heard the truth, and the rest of them got answers.

Like Dad, they all used me too.

Flynn’s lumped into them as well. He used me to clear his own conscience. To get the vengeance he’s dreamed of. To get answers for years prior.

“Wow.” I force my voice to be high and perky, to hide the thick lining in my throat that has me wanting to cry. “Getting driven by the underboss himself. What did I do to deserve this?”

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