Page 83 of The Freedom in Captivity

“Rozelyn…” she pleads, breaking me down with every heartbroken word, “please.”

Dad stands at the window, gazing out at the front of the property. His head is tipped in the direction of the driveway.

“She’s getting into the car now. Mhm. Yes.”

I didn’t stick around after that, not thinking much of his conversation until the call from the police came later. I hid in my bathroom and threw up everything I’d eaten that day, somehow knowing.

“I didn’t hear him give the order, so I can’t be certain, but…yeah. I think he is, Della, and I’m so sorry. I overheard him on the phone that day, mentioning how she was getting into a car. I put it together once the police came to deliver the news.”

Her shoulders lower as she decompresses with heartbreak. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Because I was an asshole.

Because I couldn’t be certain.

Because I would have paid the price.

Because I saved you from the abuse.Who knows what Dad would have done if he thought Della knew the truth?

“I was a bitch at her funeral for not supporting you when the truth was, I was guilty. Iwantedto tell you, but Dad would have—I was protecting myself.”

For a long second, I think she didn’t hear me. She stares at the floor, her mouth slipping open slowly. Her arms loose by her side. Muscles going lax until her shoulders droop. She looks…lost. Broken.

And I’m stuck. Feet glued to the floor, unable to go to her. Uncertain if Ineedto go to her. I glance at the door, wondering if now would be a good time to get that guard.

But then Della utters a single word: “Thanks.”

She passes me, her shoulder brushing mine, and gets to the door. It opens and I reach for her. Not sure why, but I do. Needing to apologize for hiding it. For her to understand why I did. To…I don’t know? Embrace her.

But she’s gone and my hand clutches onto nothing, and the guard is right there in the doorway, blocking my view and demanding, “What the fuck did you do?”

“Told her something she shouldn’t have heard. I didn’t physically harm her, so back off.”

He lets out a growly noise, which strikes me how different it is from the ones Flynn makes. The ones that make my thighs clench. This one rolls his eyes and slams the door shut in my face, clearly deeming me unworthy of his time.

Whatever.

I head for the nightstand where Della laid the food tray holding fresh pancakes but now I’m no longer hungry.

I feel empty.

My gaze finds the door again.

Guilty.

* * *

It’s less than an hour later when I hear something on the other side of the door. A scuffle, a growl, and a demanding, “Fuckin’ get outta my way!”

Flynn.

I roll to my feet, preparing for his entrance. After yesterday, he made it seem like he wasn’t going to return, so why is he? I should send him away.

Regardless of what happened, our goals are different. The situation with my father tore us apart once, but life kept us apart. And will continue keeping us apart. I’ll be searching for Yasmine and he’ll be continuing his enforcer job.

“Don’t give me reason to punch you, man.”

“Don’t give me reason to stab you.” That was Flynn.

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