Vincent reaches into his jacket and pulls out a phone. He swipes his fingers across the screen to wake it up and then presses an app on the home screen. “This reroutes the call so it looks like it’s coming from another number.”
I press in the numbers and listen to it ring.
“Harper…”
I take a deep breath to stop myself from crying so Vincent isn’t tempted to end the call if James thinks I’m upset.
“Harper? You there?”
I swallow hard and nod. “They said you were dead!”
He laughs. “Fuck. I’m fine. They’re amateurs. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Why did you drop me off, James? I don’t understand what I did wrong.”
He hesitates. “You have to trust me, baby. Do you trust me?”
A tear slips down my cheek but Vincent reaches out to swipe it away. “Yeah.” I breathe through my pent-up sobs. “I do. I can’t talk. I just wanted you to know I love—”
I get the three beeps that tell me the call has been dropped and I look down at the screen as the app flashes a no-signal icon at me. “We got cut off.”
“I’m sorry,” Vincent says. “I’m sorry it was short. But do you feel better now?”
I give his phone back and turn away. When he reaches for my hand I let my fingers slip into his because I’m lost all of a sudden.
James.
Just hearing his voice shakes me up. He does that to me. He shakes my foundation and rocks me to the core. He can calm me down and light me up in the same breath. He’s the only person on this planet I need right now. He’s the only person on this planet who makes sense.
And when I look up into the green eyes of the man who says I belong to him, I get lost in them. My world spins. My reality is shattered. The muscles in my legs get weak and then my knees buckle and I’m falling. Falling into the arms of the man who wants me to be his.
Why does he have to look just like him?
“I’ve got you, Harper.”
But the wrong man scoops me up and cradles me in his arms. The wrong man whispers comforting reassurances in my ear. The wrong man sits down on an outdoor couch and holds me tight until I stop shaking.
“It’s the drugs. Just relax and let it wear off.”
I push off him until he lets me go and then I get to my feet. “I’m fine,” I say, refusing to meet his gaze. “I just need to settle in.”
“You’re not fine, Miss Tate. But I agree. The sooner you can settle in, the better off you’ll be.” Vincent gets up and leads me into the home through a massive set of French doors. We end up in a living room. Or maybe it’s a ballroom. It’s so big it makes me dizzy when I look up at the ceiling. We’re entering through the back of the house, so we’re facing the back of the stairs. Up above is a long balcony that spans the entire length of the room. There are two hallways on either side of the stairs, both on the upper and lower floors. Like this house has wings to it.
“Come, I’ll take you to your room. Do you need me to carry you? Or can you manage the stairs?”
What a ridiculous question, I think as I follow him to the stairs. But I’m only halfway up before my pace slows from exhaustion.
“You need to take it slow, Harper. You’ve been drugged too many times in the last several days.” And then he scoops me up in his arms and takes the remaining steps with ease.
He sets me on my feet again when we get to the top and retakes my hand to lead me off to the left. We walk to the very end of the wing and stop in front of a set of double doors. “This is my room,” he says as he opens the door and waves me in. “You can stay in here and I’ll sleep in my office.”
I look back down the hallway. “Why can’t I have my own room?”
“Because this is your room, lionfish.”
“Don’t call me that,” I growl. “And I don’t want to stay in your room. It’s uncomfortable.”
“We can change it tomorrow. But all your things are in here. So for tonight, this is your room.”
“I don’t have any things,” I snap. I can’t help it. I’m tired and I’m starting to feel sick. Probably from all the drugs, as he so thoughtfully reminded me.
“This whole place is filled with your things, Harper. It’s a Company house built for us. Let me show you your closet so you can choose a dress for dinner.”
Dinner? Fuck. I cannot do dinner. Please, no. “Can’t I eat in my room?”
“No,” he says kindly but sternly. “It’s better for you not to have too much time alone to think. Especially when you haven’t taken your pills.”
I scrunch up my eyes. “I don’t take those anymore. James doesn’t want me to take them.”
“I don’t want you to take them either, Harper. I want you to be in control at all times. I don’t even want to offer you a drink at dinner, but my mother insisted we have a drink to celebrate.”
“Your mother?”
My repulsion must be evident in my voice, because he chuckles. “Don’t worry, she’s not here. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know one another before I unleash that horror on you.”
I can’t stop the huff of relief and then a smile follows before I can stop it.
“See,” Vincent says. “See, it’s not so bad here. Now look,” he says, leading me into the massive room. The decorations are as traditional as the ones downstairs. The wood is dark and thick. The fabrics are rich colors—blood-red maroons, deep mustard yellows, and emerald greens. The drapes are closed tight so there’s no view outside. But the windows must be spectacular, since the curtains flow down the entire length of the wall and spill out into a puddle of fabric on the floor. There’s a sitting area on the far side of the room. It’s bigger than the size of my living space in Huntington Beach. “Here are the closets,” Vincent says, leading me over to another side of the room. “Mine is on this side and yours is over there.”