“How . . . how did you know about her?” Stevie whispers, shocked with Jude’s revelation.
“About Bella?” Jude replies. Stevie nods her head, breathless and still ghastly white. He steps closer to her, and she takes a frightened step backward. I grasp his hand, because I don’t want him to hurt her. “Don’t ever think you can fuck with me, Stevie.”
Tears well up in her eyes. One breaks free and rolls down her cheek. She nods her head furiously, her hands by her side rolled into fists. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
We leave the store and the sound of the heavy steel door closes quite loudly. The thump makes me jump as Jude walks fast the same way we came in. “I don’t like her,” I say between breaths.
“Neither do I.”
“But you let her kiss you.” I clamp my free hand over my mouth, because I realize it makes me sound like a jealous girlfriend. Which I’m not. But her public displays of affection were sickening. Especially after I saw the vision and knew what her real intentions are . . . or were until Jude caught her out on them.
“Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”
“What?! No way.” I roll my eyes at him and pretend to puke. “You’re revolting.” And cute. Shut up, Lexi, he’s a kidnapper and he beats people up.
“I think you’re jealous of her.”
Snarling at him I say, “And I think you’re delusional.”
“It’s okay to be jealous.”
“It’s okay to be delusional, too.”
He laughs out loud but keeps taking me back through the corridors, and out to the concierge who handed him the electronic keycard. Jude stops at the desk, hands him the card along with a small bundle of bills and we head out through the front doors.
“I’m not entirely sure why we went this way, but it seems quite round about and a waste of time.” Jude opens the car door for me, which conveniently is waiting exactly where we left it, in a ‘no parking’ spot. “And how did you not get a ticket?” I ask once Jude is in and the car is in motion.
“I know a lot of people.”
“You still haven’t told me why we went on that ridiculous detour around the world.” Opening the bag, I take the first pair of glasses out and slide them on. I look to Jude who’s watching me intently.
“I like them.”
“Wasn’t asking your opinion.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Teenagers,” he mumbles under his breath.
What’s the saying? Make lemonade out of lemons? Life has given me a lemon. A six-foot-tall, dangerous, (and cute) lemon.
“How old are you?” I ask as I slide another pair of glasses on, preferring how they feel to the first pair.
He leans forward and pours himself a glass of scotch. Lifting it to his lips, he whispers, “Twenty-five,” before throwing the drink back.
“You’re only twenty-five?” I ask and study his face.
“Should I be insulted?”
I shrug at him. “Be whatever you want to be.” I return to looking outside. The streets are getting wider, and the land rolls with breathtaking greenery, so I know we’re close to Jude’s house.
We pull up and I don’t bother waiting for anyone to open my door. I’m out of the car with the bag of sunglasses and inside the house before Jude exits the car.
Heading up to my fortress, I notice the door’s been removed and the room is completely bare.
My heart thumps wickedly against my chest, and the worse possible ideas are flashing in my mind. He’s going to kill me. I know it. “Jude!” I yell.
“Everything okay?”
“First, there’s no door. And second, there’s no bed. And third, what’s going on?” Smiling he holds his gloved hand out to me. “You’re a very touchy person. You’re always holding my hand. If I didn’t know who you are and what you do, I’d think it was sweet and somewhat normal.”
“I can be sweet, and I can be normal.”
Dropping his hand, I refuse to go one more step without an explanation. “Jude, you don’t have to try and win me over. Your threats to my family and friends ensure I’m not going anywhere.”
“Duly noted, no more hand holding.” He backs away, his hands high in surrender. “But I’d like for you to follow me, please.”
“Is this room lined with plastic?”
He sighs loudly and shakes his head. “Just follow me.”
He turns around and heads back down the stairs to the opposite side of the grand foyer. “Isn’t this where your room is?” I ask, tracking behind him.
“This is where my suite is, yes. But if we continue down the hall, this is where your suite will be too.”
“My suite? Why did you move me?” We keep walking down the bright corridor.
“You’ll see.” He stops outside a double door, smiling. “This way, if anything happens, I’ll hear it.”
“No guard standing outside?” I look around to see if one of his bodyguards is following stealthily behind us.
“No more guards.”
“Cameras?”
He winces in pain and nods his head. “I’m afraid they’re not going anywhere. However, they’re no longer in the bathroom.”
“You had cameras in the bathroom? You’ve got to be kidding me, Jude! In the bathroom?”
“I had to make sure you were safe.”
“And how many of the perverted men who work for you have watched me showering? And how many of them have recorded me and shared it with their friends?”
Jude crosses his arms and leans up against the wall outside the double doors where he’s stopped. “None of them. Because that camera is only seen by one person.”
“Who?” I feel like slapping the stupid smirk off his face.
“Me, of course.”
“You’ve watched me shower?” I step closer and close my fists ready to smack him.
“Highlight of my day.”
I really, really want to lay into him. “I can’t believe you,” I snap as I step closer. The smug, amused look on his face makes me angrier.
“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re hot.”
“And seventeen. And you’re like thirty-nine.”
“Smart ass,” he mumbles. “I want to show you your new living arrangements.”
“Sans cameras in the bathroom. Wait, I’ll go get that ugly glove you made me wear, it’ll come in handy to cover the camera in the room.”
“I learned with that little stunt. I’ve enclosed a glass dome around the cameras.” He opens the French doors and steps aside.
The first thing I notice is the size of the room. It’s huge, with a large flat screen TV mounted on the wall, with shelves and shelves of movies. Diagonally opposite the TV is what looks like a reading nook. The wall is lined with books stacked both vertically and horizontally. There must be close to a thousand books carefully placed on the shelves. Opposite to it, is an art station. A large easel it set up with copious amounts of art paper, pencils, paints, and charcoal. Everything a budding artist might need.
“What is this place?” I ask as I step in and let my eyes drink every surface, every pillow, every texture in the room.
“This is your suite. You need someplace to escape to, and to make your own. If you don’t like the colors I’ve chosen, or whatever, then let me know and I’ll have it changed.”
I turn to look at Jude, he shoves his hands in his pockets and lowers his chin. I get a sense of him being embarrassed. “You did this for me?”
“I didn’t want you being bored. Anyway, come have a look at the rest of the suite.” He walks down a corridor and peers over his shoulder to me, waiting for me to follow him. “This is the bathroom.” He opens the door and I’m presented with an incredibly stunning bathroom. There’s a soaking tub and a massive shower that can easily accommodate four people with numerous rainwater heads. “The floor is heated so when it’s cold, you won’t be.”
I want to say something, to show him I appreciate what he’s done for me. But the fact he kidnapped me, places him quite
high on the ‘dude you’re a douche’ registry. So, why would I thank him?
“And this is your bedroom.” He opens another door off the corridor, and it leads into a room as big as the TV room and bathroom put together. The bed is in the middle of the room, a monstrosity with four heavy, carved, dark wooden columns, a thick, high headboard with a translucent white canopy draped over the top. “There’s a smaller bathroom, a dressing room, and whatever entertainment you want if you prefer to stay in bed.”
Walking into the dressing room, I shake my head at how absurd this entire suite is. “This isn’t a suite, Jude. This is a wing. I have everything except a damn kitchen. It’s the same size as many family homes.”
“Actually, there’s a kitchenette too.” He points to a wall. “It’s a concealed kitchen. Like a butler’s kitchen. Here, I’ll show you.” He walks to the wall, presses on a panel, which opens up to yet another extravagant room. “It’ll be stocked with whatever you want. I’ve had the chef take note of what you enjoy and he’ll be adding the foods in here.”
“Am I being locked in here?”
“What? No. Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re making me completely self-sufficient. Don’t get me wrong, I’m okay with that, but have you got intentions on locking me in here?”
“You can come and go as you please. Anywhere in the house you want to go, go.”
“Just don’t leave?”
He nods his head. “Remember the choice is always yours.”
I breathe in deeply and let out an exhale slowly. My choice, my ass. I have no choice in this. I leave—they die. I stay—they live.
“Is there anything else you want to show me?”
“No, that’s about it,” he announces proudly.
“Great. I need pads and tampons. I’ll have my period next week and I need them unless you want my blood everywhere.” He shudders and frowns in disgust. “Thought so. Can you make sure I have them?”
“I’ll make sure to get you what you need. Anything else?” I shake my head. The air between us becomes heavy. I no longer want to see him. I want to be left alone. “I should go then.” He hesitates, hanging back, waiting for something. But he’s going to get nothing from me. Slowly he walks out of my room, and toward the front door of the suite. “You can lock the door from the inside, only I have the key.” I don’t bother responding. Instead, I use all my will to hold back the tears.
I miss my family so much.
“I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
Keeping it together, I muster the strength to nod my head and offer him a fake smile. He walks slowly, waiting for me to talk.
I have nothing nice to say.
My heart is aching, screaming at me to run as fast as I can and get to my parents before he realizes I’m even gone. But a man like Jude would know I was gone within a second of me leaving the grounds.
And my parents would be assassinated before I had the chance to reach them.
“I’ll be in my office,” he says again before resigning himself to the fact that I’m remaining mute. By choice. I don’t want to talk to him anymore.
The moment he’s out in the corridor, I close the door and lock it from the inside. Fruitless, considering he has a key. But we both know I don’t want him here.
I take myself to my new room, climb on top of the imposing bed, and hug one of the pillows. The tears break free, and I’m absolutely devastated at this thing called life. Life sucks.
Jude may be treating me well, but it doesn’t mean I want to be here.
The stupid tears keep coming, and they don’t want to stop. The heaviness in my heart and body crushes every morsel of hope. The air becomes dense with hopelessness. There’s nothing I can do to get out of here.
My head clouds with more sadness, and my eyes become droopy. The tears finally stop just as my mind blanks and I fall asleep.
It’s been twelve days since Jude showed me to my new living quarters. He’s been hanging around a lot, and I’ve been crying even more. I hold it together when he’s around, but once I’m back in my room, I lose it.
Guilt floods me, while my broken heart keeps beating.
The nights are worse than the days, because it’s when I miss my parents the most. The sorrow makes me feel weak and pathetic with the constant tears I’ve been shedding.
There’s a knock on the door, and I yell out for whoever it is to come in. The only person it can be is Jude, all the guards are under strict instruction to not disturb me.
“Dinner’s ready,” Jude announces as he casually sits on the bed. “You coming out to eat?”
“Sure.” I feel so lost and overwhelmed by sadness. But I have to try and keep going, hoping against hope Jude will let me go home.
“I’m taking you somewhere after dinner.”
“Okay,” I reply in a monotone voice. “Is it work related?”
“No, it’s not. I know how much you’re struggling with being here.”
I turn over on the bed so he can’t see me, and let another tear fall. I try to steady my voice before I say, “I’ll be fine.”
I hear Jude’s heavy steps as he leaves my room. “I’ll wait for you for dinner.” The door clicks shut and I know he’s gone.
With my heavy heart, and my teary eyes, I drag myself out of bed and head out toward the kitchen. The smell of spices wafts through the house from the moment I leave my suite. My stomach growls in anticipation of what the chef’s prepared.
Walking into the kitchen, I see Jude’s standing at the end of the table talking on his phone. As soon as his eyes land on me, he whispers something into the phone.
This house is filled with secrets. I suppose if you’re a criminal, you’d have to keep everything close to your chest and not let people in.
“I have to go,” he says as I get closer to him. There’s no need in asking him who he’s on the phone with, because it’s none of my business. “Are you hungry?” he asks, pulling the chair out for me to sit.
“Yeah, starving.” Jude sits, and Frank brings over two plates with cutlery. “Thank you, Frank.” Frank may be old, but since I’ve been here I’ve come to learn a few things about him. His wife Janet passed away, and he’s lonely, but I learned that through the first vision Jude tested me on. I’ve also learned how Frank’s only son passed away years ago from a rare form of cancer, and Jude paid for all his medical costs.
“You’re welcome, Miss Lexi,” Frank responds.
“Please, just Lexi.” I hate how he calls me ‘miss.’ To me, it feels wrong. He’s so much older than me; it almost feels disrespectful.
“Yes, Miss Lexi,” he replies.
He moves to the other side of the kitchen, and brings a dish to the table. He starts piling food on our plates. Jude watches him, and when our plates are stacked high, Frank leaves the kitchen.
Picking my fork up, I taste what Frank’s made. Of course, it’s beautiful, like everything else he makes for me.
“How are you feeling?” Jude asks between forkfuls of food.
“Don’t ask questions you really don’t want an answer to. Just get to whatever it is you want to know.”
He smiles, and continues eating. “You always cut to the chase, don’t you? I want to get a better understanding of your ability.”
“I’ll give you one when I work it out for myself.”
“You have to know something about it. When did you first realize you had it?”
Tilting my head to the side, I narrow my eyes at him. “You did all this research on me, and found out so many things, and you have no idea when it started?
“Feisty today. I like it.”
God, he pisses me off so much. “After I had my operation.”
“For your appendicitis?”
“You know about that?”
“I have your hospital records, so yes, I know about that.”
“Stalker much?” He laughs and keeps inhaling his food as if he’ll never eat again. “Slow down, Jude, you’ll give you
rself indigestion.” He waves me away and keeps cramming more food into his mouth. “Anyway, it started when I woke after the operation. A nurse . . .” I drift off remembering Hayley, and how she died. My skin prickles as a cold chill clampers my spine.
“What nurse?” His voice makes me stare at him, and leave the memory of Hayley.
“Hayley. She had a pink bow in her long, dark hair. And the kindest eyes. She was so sweet to me, but she was killed by a man with a scar running down his face.” I point to my cheek.
“Did you see a vision?”
I nod my head and place my fork on the side of the plate. “I saw a vision of the man who killed her. He knew her, because after he shot her he stood over her body and said ‘you should’ve listened to me.’ I’ve never been more frightened in my life. I had no idea what was going on; until I saw on the news how she’d been shot. And while I was watching it, it was like déjà vu, and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t even tell anyone, because I was so afraid they’d think I was losing my mind. I should’ve said something to her.” Heaviness circles my heart, and I place my hand on my chest to rub it away. More shame creeps in because I could’ve saved her, but I didn’t.
Jude moves his chair closer to me, and rubs circles on my back. “If you had told her, she wouldn’t have believed you.”
Burying my face into my hands, an overwhelming sense of guilt takes my body hostage. “I could’ve saved her. I should’ve said something. I’m kicking myself that I held it in and didn’t tell her. But I really had no idea what was going on. It’s why . . .” I look up at Jude, staring into his dangerous eyes.
“It’s why what?” When he narrows his eyes in question, a deep crease appears between them.
“It’s why, when I saw what happened to you—or was going to happen ‒ I had to warn you. I promised myself, no matter how crazy it might sound, I had to make sure you knew not to go to the dock.”
“I’m forever indebted to you for telling me.”
“Hah,” I chuckle bitterly and look away from him. “And this is how you repay me?” I sigh in frustration.
The Gift: The Butterfly Effect, Book 1. Page 14