Can he see that I want to escape my father? Is that even possible? I eye the handcuffs around his wrists and weigh my options.
“Anything. Just get me out of here.” His voice cracks on the last word.
I can either help him or head back up to the street and find the car that will take me home. Imagining the drive up our driveway has me moving back toward the vehicle. Instinct tells me to stay. I place my foot on the back bumper and unclasp my anklet. My hands shake as I hold the key. There is no way of knowing if it will work in these cuffs but it’s worked in every set James put on me.
“You owe me,” I mutter as I turn the tiny key and hear the cuffs unlock.
I work quickly getting the cuffs off, flicking glances over my shoulder, waiting for someone to catch me.
“Can you walk?” I ask as Pierce pushes himself up into a sitting position.
I practically yank him out of the car. Once standing in the dim lighting, I can fully see the damage. His shoulder is still bleeding, soaking though his shirt and covering my own hands as well. His lip is busted and one eye is swollen shut.
He sways on his feet for a moment before I swing one of his arms around my shoulders. Pure adrenaline gives me the strength to support his weight.
“Hurry up, tough guy,” I grunt under his weight.
Together we stumble and limp our way to a fire exit. We exit into a narrow alley that is thankfully empty. I can see the flashing lights of emergency vehicles on the main street, so we turn the opposite direction.
Pierce is growing weaker and his blood pumps quicker with every step. I am starting to doubt that he will even live long enough to escape. Where would that leave me?
On the Las Vegas Strip with a dead body, that’s where.
The darkness shields us as we maneuver through a maze of back alleys lined with dumpsters and garbage. Pierce never stops, even though I can feel that he wants to. I don’t know how far we go before our maze ends and Pierce collapses to the ground. A group of women stand under a neon sign and halt their conversation when they see us. One woman is in a nurse’s uniform, the old-fashioned kind. The white dress with the Red Cross is a relief.
“Please, help us,” I call to her.
The nurse drops her cigarette to the ground and rushes to us. She drops to her knees in front of Pierce. Her friends follow, their high heels clicking.
“Call for an ambulance,” she yells to no one in particular.
“No,” Pierce growls. “No hospital.”
“But, sir, you’ve been shot,” she tells him, confusion all over her pretty face.
“I said no.”
The nurse looks up at me, questions in her eyes. I shake my head, helpless. I don’t know what to do any more than they do. I’m starting to think based on her panic that she isn’t really a nurse after all.
“Get him inside,” she finally tells the girls.
The women surround Pierce and pull him to his feet, ushering him inside the dark building. I look up at the sky, noticing for the first time the purple tint turning to pink. The sun is rising.
“Are you coming?” the nurse asks, standing next to the “Live Dancers” sign.
“I need to go,” I stutter.
She nods in understanding. I don’t want to go but have to.
Another girl offers comes outside and offers me a long coat. “Take this then.”
They disappear inside, the music filtering into the streets behind them. I take another look at the sign and promise myself I will come back and cash in on his promises.
I pull the coat on to cover my blood stained dress before turning to run toward the main strip, heels long gone. My one night of freedom expires at sunrise. I don’t want to know what will happen if my dad comes to look for me.
I’m out of breath by the time I reach my waiting car. I dive into the backseat and click on the seat belt. The driver eyes me in the mirror but eases into the light traffic without questions. He is paid to keep his mouth shut.
The drive back home is depressing. My taste of the outside life was cut far too short. I wanted to dance and drink, but instead only saw more violence and blood.
My chest tightens as the iron gates to the estate open. I blink quickly, feeling like I might actually cry. But tears won’t fall because Shiloh Blackard never cries.
Discombobulated (adj.) emotionally confused or uncertain.
The car crawls up the driveway, delivering me to my prison—a place I considered home but no longer want it to be. I hold onto the memory of Pierce and where I left him because he is possibly my only hope to ever be free of the life I’m destined to live.
It is almost dawn before I make it back to my room. No one sees me come in the back entrance as I tiptoe thought the halls. I’m used to being unseen and unheard. Ignored and discarded.
chapter three
shiloh
IT’S BEEN OVER a week since my birthday, and I haven’t been able to leave the house again. Not that it matters much. I have no idea how to find Pierce again. I unknowingly left him at one of the many strip clubs in Las Vegas without even catching the name. What I thought was a nurse was just an exotic dancer.
“Shiloh?” I hear outside the door. It’s my sister.
“Come in,” I call out.
Poppy comes in, wearing a robe and hair still wet from a shower. Of all my sisters, I am closest with her. We are only a year apart in age, and she is the only one that doesn’t treat me like I’m weird when I talk about wanting to live in the outside world. I pause the show on my laptop and scoot over on the bed to make room for her.
“You haven’t said how your birthday was,” she says as she sits next to me. “What did you do?”
“I went to a club.” I shrug.
Poppy’s blue eyes stare at me, seeking out the lie. She knows I’m hiding something, chewing on her bottom lip, probably deciding how she will pull it out of me.
“Did you have fun? I figured you wouldn’t shut up about it once you got home. Instead you’ve barely spoken.”
“I danced, Pop. With other people. So close we were almost touching. I will never forget the energy in the club. It was like electricity buzzing through me. I felt so free, like I was out in the open after being kept in a box for too long.”
Poppy nods, looking more nervous than excited. When she left last year, she came home in tears. She went to the strip and someone stole her purse in a casino. She may not agree with my wishes to leave, but she keeps her opinions to herself. Sometimes silence is the best gift someone can give.
“I saw this guy,” I tell her. “He was so hot. I mean not in a movie star way but like in a way that I could stare at him all day, every day. He was so magnetic. Everyone flocked to him and seemed to look up to him. It was his birthday too.”
Illecebrous (adj.) alluring, attracting, enticing.
My sister laughs and rolls her eyes. “Did you talk to him?”
I freeze up and look away.
“Shiloh,” she whispers. “Please talk to me.”
“Someone shot him. In the club. A man that reminds me of Dad’s cleaner. Then some men took him down to the parking garage, cuffed him, and waited for the coast to clear.”
“Shit, Shiloh. What did you do?”
“I let him go.” I wince, knowing Poppy is about to freak.
“You didn’t. Oh shit, you did. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I just couldn’t walk away. He promised me anything I wanted if I helped him.”
Poppy’s jaw drops and her eyes widen. “Let me guess, you asked for freedom.”
“I didn’t ask for anything. He was bleeding and the sun was rising. I left him somewhere to get help and ran, thinking I would find him later.”
Poppy stands and starts to pace around my room, roughly running her fingers through her hair and glancing at me like I’m insane. “I shouldn’t be surprised, really. You have always been obsessed with the outside world. Which by the way, you aren’t going to learn much by watching Gossip
Girl,” she whispers, pointing to my open laptop. “You could have been hurt.”
“I know. But don’t worry. I can’t find him anyway. I don’t even know his last name.”
Poppy takes my computer and pulls up Google. “What’s his first name?”
“Pierce.”
Poppy glances at me and starts to type. I sigh at her.
“I tried that already. There is no news of him or a shooting anywhere.”
“Pierce Gallo. They call him the Prince of the East Coast. His family owns a cargo shipping company.”
“How did you find that?” I ask, grabbing the computer to find his perfect face staring back at me.
“Figured if he was important enough to be shot at in a busy night club, and have it covered up so the news doesn’t even talk about it, then there has got to be something online about him. He was one of the top results.”
I read through the article about the young heir to a family fortune and how he spent the week of his birthday partying in several major cities. This was his last year before he would become the CEO of Gallo Shipping. The family business has made them one of the richest families in the country and the richest on the East Coast. I get where the nickname came from.
“Now you know,” Poppy says, standing. “What you do with that info is up to you. We better get ready for the big event.”
Poppy leaves and I notice the time. I’m supposed to be downstairs in less than two hours. I jump up and start to get ready, just finishing my makeup when my door swings open.
“Are you excited?” my grandma asks as she comes into my room. “Weddings are always so much fun.”
I look at Grandma as she comes to stand in front of me. This woman practically raised us after our mother passed from cancer when I was only four. She is already dressed and ready for the night’s events, looking stunning. Everything about her is glamorous and elegant.
“Thrilled,” I mutter, turning to check my makeup in the mirror. I would be more excited if the wedding took place outside the estate.
“Shiloh,” she scolds. “This is your oldest sister’s wedding. You should be happy for her. Smile brighter.”
I give her the best smile I can, not feeling it one bit. I was given permission to attend the wedding today—with protection. I should be ecstatic, but today is just a reminder of the future in store for me.
“Stick with Cyrus tonight. He will keep an eye on you,” Grandma says.
Being married to one of Dad’s trusted men is the only way to get out from under his roof. Once Melody is married to Connor, she will be Melody Walsh. She will be free to be seen outside the family. No one will ever know she was Marcus Blackard’s daughter.
Slowly, each of his little girls would be safe from his enemies. That’s the plan anyway.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Grandma asks, pushing my bangs away from my eyes so she can see them clearly.
“Perfect.”
“You were always quiet but you have been even more so since your birthday last week. Talk to me, Shiloh.”
I sigh and sit back down on my bed, running my fingers over the intricate design on the duvet, wondering why I can’t be happy with such luxury.
“I just wanted more time outside,” I finally admit. “I thought once I was of age, I could go as I pleased but that’s not the case.”
“Shiloh, there is so much about the world you don’t know. I know you think you’ve learned everything you can with your books, television, and online, but there’s a dark side you don’t understand.”
I shake my head and stand to find my dress. I don’t know why I thought she would be on my side.
“It’s safe for you here, Shiloh. You need to trust that. Your father lost someone he loved very much to someone that wanted to hurt him, and he vowed to never let that happen to his girls.”
“Mom died of cancer,” I say, confused.
“A woman before your mother,” she explains. “He loved her very much and when she was killed, he never really healed from it.”
I pull my dress from the closet and turn to see the sorrow on my grandmother’s face.
“The world is full of hate and pain, my dear. You are loved and protected here. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
Nodding, I set the dress down and hug her. I never want to seem ungrateful because I know I have anything I could ever want. It’s the seclusion that eats away at me. The powerlessness I have day in and day out.
“I know,” I say in my grandma’s ear, inhaling the scent of her expensive perfume. “Let’s party.”
A smile lights up her face, eyes crinkling in the corners. She softly pats my shoulder before leaving the room so I can change. The summer dress is perfect for an outside wedding and matches my blue eyes. I absently rub my ankle where my anklet should be, with my foot. I hope I won’t be needing it before I manage to steal another.
“Shiloh? Can I come in?” I hear from outside my door.
“Come on in.”
Cyrus opens the door, looking handsome in a suit and a bow tie that matches my dress. His eyes roam my face before dropping down my body.
“You look amazing,” he says, smiling at me. “Just stunning.”
“Thank you. You look handsome as always.”
Cyrus grins and takes my hand. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
We walk down the halls in comfortable silence, in no hurry to meet the other guests. His fingers gently rub the inside of my palm to calm me. Cyrus is my best friend, despite the fact he works for my dad. I have known him all my life. He was my first friend, my first kiss, my first everything.
One day I will probably marry Cyrus. If it isn’t obvious from the way we’ve been forced together all our lives, or how my dad practically groomed him to work for the family, then it was clear the night Cyrus sneaked into my bedroom and I gave him my virginity. No one got anywhere close to one of us undetected. If Cyrus was in my bedroom, then it was because someone allowed it.
“All we have to do is smile,” he tells me as we enter the backyard.
The yard has been transformed. Dozens of white chairs wait in rows, decorated with white roses and blue tulle. Near the edge of the cliff overlooking the city, a wooden arch stands tall. A small orchestra setup to the side and rose petals lines the aisle. Everything is extravagant and expensive.
Cyrus pulls me close to his side as we find a seat near the front. I take comfort in his strong presence. A few people mingle, some faces familiar to me. Everyone is rich and powerful in their own way. They all gravitate to my father since he has the most power. Much like Pierce that night in the club.
My other sisters sit with their dates, all separate so it isn’t obvious we are related. No one pays me any attention. I blend in as another faceless guest. I listen to the chatter around me.
The music finally starts and Melody looks perfect as she walks down the aisle. Her white dress sparkles in the setting sunlight. Her train trails behind almost twenty feet. She looks like a princess as diamonds glitter from her jewelry and tiara.
Melody’s smile is genuine when she recites her vows. I fight the emotional tears that threaten to fall from my eyes. My older sister looks so happy, her hands in Connor’s as he gazes down at her. Despite how I see this marriage as a prison sentence, the bride and groom don’t seem to agree. They look happy.
The priest speaks of God and Holy Matrimony. I find it ironic, as we recite the prayers; if these people believe in Heaven and Hell, then they are doomed. We are a group of the worst sinners. I’m not sure God has a place for us in Heaven.
chapter four
shiloh
IT’S THE MIDDLE of the night when I decide it’s time. I can’t think of any more reasons I should wait. I have Pierce’s name, and I know there’s only one person that can help me. I’ve only heard of her, but I hope she’s not a myth.
Drapetomania (n.) an overwhelming urge to run away.
I quietly get out of bed and peek into the hallway. It’s empty,
thankfully. I know the time the guards change. My steps are silent as I sneak down to a linen closet. There’s barely enough room for my body inside when I close the door. I wait a few more minutes to be sure no one saw me.
When I don’t hear anything, I pull myself up the shelves full of soft towels and extra sheets. The ceiling accesses the attic; I’d found it a few years before. I move the panel and climb up, covering the hole before turning on the flashlight I’d hung from the rafters.
The moonlight filters in the window. I pull out the hidden shoe box where I keep the random things I’ve collected over the years. Opening it carefully, I count the money: American, Pesos, and Canadian. I stuff the money in my back pocket and grab the knife I stole from the kitchen. Sliding it into the waistband of my pants, I close the box.
The attic window is the only window in the house without an alarm sensor. I used to crawl out onto the roof of the garage and stare at the stars. Tonight, I won’t be watching the stars.
This garage houses the pump for the large fountain out back. From the roof, I climb down the thick water pipe on the wall. It doesn’t reach the bottom so I drop the rest of the way.
“Shit,” I hiss when I hit the ground harder than expected. My ankle throbs, but I can’t slow down yet.
I keep low as I run across the backyard to the tall stone wall. I follow it, keeping my back to the wall, until I come to a tree and run my fingers over the initials I carved into the trunk when I was ten. I climb the tree like I have hundreds of times in my youth. As I grew, so did the tree; we both wanted to escape. Now the branches reach over the wall. My heart pounds in my ears and my hands shake as I climb over the wall. I thought about doing this so many times, but I never actually tried until now. My ankle screams when I drop down on the other side.
Outside of the walls, I’m frozen. I never thought I would actually pull it off. No alarms sound, and I don’t hear any commotion so I start running. My ankle hurts but I can’t stop. I need to make it down the hill and to the city before it’s too late. I need to disappear before my family notices I’m gone.
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