Page 81 of Ensnared

Whetherhe’d forgotten it wasJasper’sday or simply didn’t care, the distraction suited me just fine.Ilet him drag me away to spend half the day giggling and cooking with him in the kitchen.Ihad half a mind to let him suffer for the trouble he got me in withDom, except that he was moving so gingerly,Ididn’t have the heart.

Domapparently thumped him soundly—mostly becauseLuckystill hasn’t returned the bazooka from his hidey stash.Ionly hope thatDomdoesn’t work outIknow where that stash is.Let’sjust sayLuckyhas more than a bazooka in there, andIwill sing like a canary if he questions me.

Still, despiteLucky’sprotests,Ibegged off cooking an hour ago and came back to my room to think.

Well, and to shower, sinceIwas covered head to toe in about a dozen different ingredients.

Ican’t procrastinate any longer.Ineed to make a decision.

DoIgo and findJasperto fulfill my end of this bargain?Orrisk a refusal?

Iturn the book over in my hands, and it naturally parts at chapter five where he’s bookmarked the pages with a simple note.

Chessin my room at 3pm.

Please?

—Jasper

Onthe first page of chapter five, he had—heartrendingly—highlighted several lines: “Iam longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air.”

Please.

Doesthat meanI’mgetting lovely, bookishJaspertoday?Onewho will talk with me freely about all the things they’re keeping from me?

Oris his scary, sadistic evil twin playing games with me?

Iflick through the pages of the book, searching for his notes, the little insights and witticismsI’vecome to crave, but they’re naked of anyone’s thoughts butStoker’s.Ifrown, tapping the spine with my finger.

Isthe book itself the message?Amore sensual choice than some of the others... but also screaming with misogyny.Hechose a quote fromMina, a praised and perfectVictorianwoman.Isthat how he sees me?Intelligentand beautiful, fine, but a woman whose success, whose value, is assigned by how she props up her male counterparts?

MaybeI’mbeing too sensitive.

Myfrustration with the men is growing—their insistence on secrets is infuriating, these unexplained tensions in the house are confusing, and the whole farcical bargain is starting to grate.Itpushes me into a position in the house that is becoming more uncomfortable by the day.

IfI’mbeing honest, it’sbecauseI’menjoying myself so much that it’s beginning to hurt.Thelast two days have been... surprisingly pleasant.No, more than that.They’vebeen delightful.

Yesterday,Iworked inJayk’sbarn until night fell and he fixed me a bland but deeply appreciated meal of dried jerky and garden vegetables that he fidgeted over for far too long.Wefell into a quiet rhythm as we puttered, and for the first time sinceIarrived,Ifeltuseful.LikeIwas contributing in a meaningful way.

Hisgruff corrections didn’t sting like failure and his rare approving nods had me glowing.Whenit grew late enough thatIdecidedIshould probably get some sleep,Ileft with the greatest reluctance.I’deven found the courage to ask ifIcould help him again soon and received a rough, “Suityourself” in response.

FromJayk,I’mpretty sure that counts as an open invitation.

Mysneaky satisfaction with him, the sweet heatIfeel withBeau, laughing withLucky, all of it has me wanting... more.Maybeeven everything.

Agreedy, impossible thought.

Butan honest one.

Istifle a sigh.HowcanIever even hope for more when there is such an imbalance between us?Whilethey’re making the rules, how canImake my own?AndIdo want new rules,Ithink.Tofinally make some for myself.

Iwant to be able to speak my mind without fear of consequence.

Iwant to fill my days with whatever or whomeverIwant.

Iwant to be able to form real relationships.Toknow that if we’re together, it’s because that’s whatIwant, and what they want, and to know it’s based on more than convenient sex.

Duckingback into my room,Icheck the grandfather clock.It’stwo fifty-five.Decisiontime.

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