Chapter 17: Now You’re Mine: Chapter 17

The sun is high when I finally end my pity-party and wander outside, happy to leave Hayden behind indoors. He glanced at me when I walked past him in the living room. He’d been typing furiously on his laptop until I entered the room, but he remained quiet and motionless until I reached the door.

Following the sandy path down to a secluded stretch of beach, I take a deep breath of the salty air, and some of the tension leaves my shoulders. For the first time since I arrived, my body starts to relax. There’s a serenity in this place that I’m not immune to, regardless of my personal issues.

And there are many.

I keep walking along the white sandy shore until the water covers my toes. It’s cooler than I thought, given the sweltering heat brushing my skin. Shielding my eyes from the sun’s brutal rays, I stand there with the waves slapping against my legs until my skin starts to protest.

I head over to the cabana I spotted on my way here. Nestled between a group of palm trees near the shoreline, the structure is covered in shade. A swinging bench is suspended from the ceiling, similar in style to the reading nook inside the library.

After settling onto the plush seat, I push off the floor with both feet, gently rocking as I gaze out at the sparkling water. The sound of the rolling waves mingles with the rustling palm leaves above me, creating a peaceful atmosphere.

Leaning back against the cushions, I close my eyes and let the gentle motion of the swing soothe me. My mind remains blissfully quiet and I lose track of time. Which doesn’t matter since I have nowhere else to go.

“Calista.”

At the sound of Hayden calling my name, I jolt awake. The swing is still, except for my sudden movement, and the sun is much lower in the sky. I blink away the fog of sleep and look up at him. He towers over me with the remaining sunlight outlining his body, casting him in an orange glow.

He looks like an angel, ethereal and otherworldly. The comparison brings little comfort. Before he fell, Lucifer was an angel too.

I sit up slowly. “What is it?” I ask, unable to keep the suspicion from my voice.

If he notices, he doesn’t show it. His face remains placid. “Dinner’s ready.” My stomach rumbles at the mention of food, and the side of his mouth lifts into a half-smile. “Come on.”

He extends a hand and I hesitate to take it. I’m still emotionally wary of this man. He’s keeping me under his control, forcing me to depend on him for everything.

Food.

Shelter.

Fucking underwear.

“You need to eat,” he says. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Callie.”

With a sigh of frustration, I rise from the swing. He lowers his offered hand, but not without his eyes flashing some intense emotion that could either be anger or pain. I’m not sure.

Guilt tries to take over as I follow Hayden back to the house, but I’m quick to suppress it. We reach the patio where a candlelit table waits. He pulls out my chair and I sit down, hyperaware of his proximity. Of his every movement. I’m in tune with this man in a way I didn’t think was possible.

“Seafood linguine,” he says, taking his seat and lifting the lid of the serving tray. “I believe this is one of your favorites.”

“It is.”

The flames from the candles flicker, stirred by a gentle breeze, and the shadows dance on Hayden’s features. I could hate him for being so beautiful. So irresistible.

He serves us both, heaping our plates with pasta, shrimp, scallops, and lobster, all covered in a white wine sauce. I grab my fork, trying to refrain from digging into the food like a seagull that’s found a bagel.

“Eat, Callie. I know you’re starving.”

I twirl some linguine with my fork and take a bite. The delicious flavors have my eyes fluttering shut. He was right; this is definitely a meal I love. A little moan escapes me. My eyes fly open, and I bite my lip to keep from making any other noises.

But the damage has been done.

Hayden stares at me with his fork suspended in the air and his eyes focused solely on my mouth, as if he’s about to lunge for me. And fuck me on this table.

I drop my gaze. A flush works its way onto my cheeks that has nothing to do with the warm temperature. “This is really good. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.” His voice is guttural but strained, as if he’s being strangled. “You can relax. I’m not going to touch you.”

Despite his promise, I can’t bring myself to believe him. He openly stares at me with a look of hunger, and I don’t have the courage to call him out on it. The last time I did, it was useless. If anything, he made me all the more flustered.

We eat in silence for several minutes. In that time, I eat enough pasta to fall into a carb coma and enough wine to feel invincible. I glare at Hayden, wondering if this was his plan all along.

“Why are you looking at me like I just kicked a puppy?” he asks.

“Because I feel good right now.”

His brows gather. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

“This ought to be good,” he mutters. Then at a normal volume he says, “Would you care to explain yourself?”

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. The wine has loosened my tongue—not that it needed much help to begin with—and I need to be careful.

“Feeling good isn’t the issue. It’s the source.” I give him a pointed look. “The lovely dinner, the wine, hell, even the ambiance… it’s all from you.”

He picks up his wineglass and takes a sip, as if mulling over my words. “And that’s a problem?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because of the power dynamic here.” I gesture between us. “You have all of the control… what I eat, where I go, everything. My happiness completely depends on what you provide. So even when I feel good, I owe it to you.”

I pause, taking a big gulp of wine to bolster my courage. “I can’t deny that I appreciate all of this, but real happiness requires freedom and choice. Right now, I don’t have either.”

Hayden’s expression hardens. He slowly takes another drink from his wineglass, regarding me with a detachment that I find unnerving. “I understand what you’re saying, but I’m not going to change my mind.”

Frustration snakes its way through me and leaks into my words, making them tremble. “You’re no better than a dictator.”

He scoffs. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not imprisoning you. I’m protecting you. When this is all over, you can be as free as a bird. My little bird.”

The way he says it reminds me of the night I gave myself to him. Before I knew he was a stalker, before I knew he’d take over my life.

Before I fell in love with him.

I rise to my feet. “You should trust me enough to know that I’d never knowingly put myself at risk.”

Hayden sets his glass down with a thud, his eyes flashing. “None of this will matter if you die!”

He slams his palms on the table as he rises to his feet, making me jump. He leans forward, his nostrils flaring with his anger, his voice a low growl. “I’ve said this more than once, and tonight it’ll be for the last time. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if you fucking hate me for it.”

Without another word, he turns and strides to the door to disappear inside. My legs shake until I’m forced to sink back into the chair. I stare after him in a daze, alone and trembling from the intensity of our conversation. Argument is more accurate.

I wish I felt better about standing up to Hayden, but the only thing left behind from the heated exchange is pain. My heart aches, sitting heavily in my chest as though perched on my ribcage. When I uncurl my fingers from being tightly fisted, I stare down at the crescent-shaped indentations on my palms, red and stinging. The discomfort will pass, but this friction with Hayden?

If he continues to clip my wings, I may not be able to fly… but I’ll run.

For good this time.