Chapter 89

MADDISON

I only manage to snatch an hour of sleep before the darkness of the late evening rouses me. The only glow in the room comes from the bedside clock, the blinds doing their job of keeping out the moonlight.

Somehow, I’ve ended up curled against Asher, his arm draped casually over me, his hand nestled between my breast and neck. I can’t deny the comfort of lying like this—his body heat seeping into me, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against my back, reminding me to breathe.

Having him this close, feeling his warmth, hearing his heartbeat—it grounds me. Most nights, I wake up in terror, scanning the room, praying no one’s there to take me, to use me…to hurt me.

But with Asher, those fears seem to dissipate, and I guess that’s why I’ve chosen to stay in his bed longer than necessary.

As the minutes pass, I remain in that position, unmoving, unwilling to leave the warmth of the bed. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts about the upcoming reunion with Sanctum, Mr. Fennick, and most importantly, Jonathon.

He demanded a week, and I’ve taken more than that. Sure, I had a hospital visit during my absence, but I doubt he’d care about that.

It’s odd though, that Mr. Fennick let me stay past the week, asserting authority over Jonathon as if he were a subordinate and not a fifty percent partner. I’m uncertain about what awaits me upon my return.

The thought of being brutally taken against the wall crosses my mind, but until I see Jonathon and assess his mood, I won’t know how he’ll react. I start to feel restless, the heat from Asher’s body making me sticky, so I carefully move away from him, using the other side of the bed to sit up.

It’s just past four in the morning now, which means I only have about an hour to get ready to leave. I wish I could risk going there smelling of Asher, but I can’t; it wouldn’t end well. I tiptoe to the en-suite and quickly shower to wash away Asher’s scent.

Thankfully, his mother gave me a fragrant, feminine body wash—something less likely to set off Jonathon. She also gave me clothes, sneakers, and scrunchies.

She was adamant about keeping the scrunchies safe and with me. But sadly, that won’t be possible—not tonight. Not when I’m expected to have my hair professionally styled, usually left down in loose curls to impress new and old clients alike.

Most of my clients, the men who pay for me, prefer my hair down. I’ve noticed they like to use it as a tool during our encounters.

But the men who like to be rough—or those that I approach—prefer my hair up, just so they can yank it down. My skin crawls at the thought, and I hate that I’m preparing myself for any possibility as I leave this sanctuary to face my reality once more.

After dressing in the clothes Asher’s mother gave me, I linger in the bathroom, wondering if going back to his bed is a good idea. In the end, I decide against it, stepping out of the bathroom into the dim room and slipping out of the bedroom without a second glance.

The house is eerily quiet and dark, but despite my fears, I force myself to walk through it and down the stairs. As per Callum’s instructions, I exit through the double front doors and step into the dead of night.

He told me to meet him in his office in the large building that houses his team of armed men—and women. I’m early, by about forty minutes, but that’s not an issue.

I sneak into the stables to say a quick goodbye to Black. He’s lying in his stall, taking a nap, and doesn’t stir when I enter.

I look down at him, thinking about how much he’s helped me just by letting me ride him. Horses have always been my first love.

A man clears his throat, startling me.

“Not planning to run off into the night with him, are you?” Callum asks.

“No, I was just saying goodbye,” I whisper back.

“My wife always believed Black could communicate on some strange and deep level…” he muses.

“Can we go early? Get this over with?” I interrupt him.

“My team’s got the building across from Sanctum covered. We’ve rented three empty apartments for a short while: five, seven, and nine. If you need to bolt, you know where we’ll be,” he informs me.

The image of the apartment complex is vivid in my mind, having stared at it daily for months.

His footsteps echo in the otherwise silent stable, his departing figure like a bucket of water extinguishing the barely-there flame inside me.

“See you, Black,” I murmur, turning to accompany him.

We slide into a sleek sports car, the kind I could only fantasize about riding in, yet here I am, settling into the passenger seat as the engine growls to life.

I wish I could relish the ride, but I can’t—not with the uncertainty of where I’m going and what will be asked—no, demanded—of me.

It feels like I’ve been away from this life for ages, but in truth, it’s been a blink of an eye. Asher’s done something to me, shown me a life free from expectations, but now I’m stepping back into the lion’s den, facing not one but two lions.

Both of whom will desire me in more ways than I can count. But Jonathon, especially.

Our last encounter was a nightmare, his claim on me more absurd than ever. He completely lost his grip, and I’m terrified that it might happen again today.

By the time we’re three blocks away, my fists are balled up tight. A one-way bus ticket is thrust into my hand, along with everything they want me to wear.

A scrunchie, a tiny ring that looks like the one I left with Asher, a jacket, and sneakers identical to the ones I’m allowed to wear on my own time.

All these items are supposedly traceable, but I fail to see how they’ll help me, or Asher’s dad, or the cops.

“Don’t forget, Starbucks shift tomorrow; we’ll meet you there to wire up some of your stuff,” Callum reminds me.

“You’re nuts if you think this is going to work,” I retort, climbing out of his car.

“It will work, and if it doesn’t, and we lose contact with you, we’ll come charging in to rescue you,” he reassures me.

“They’re armed, remember,” I mutter, stepping back to close the car door.

He nods, clearly aware of their arsenal.

“Try to gather as much intel as you can. The sooner we can extract you, the better.”

“And yet you’re the one delivering me back to them?” I whisper under my breath.

Callum either ignores my comment or doesn’t hear it.

He bids me farewell with a long, thoughtful gaze before driving off. I watch his car disappear around the corner toward the safe apartments.

And so it begins.