“What about now?” I looked up at the ceiling. “You don’t think they can hear us now, do you?”
Her eyes followed mine. “I-I ain’t never thought about that.”
“I don’t even know what to look for.”
Jane closed her eyes and shook her head again. “If they can, we’ll know soon enough.”
We both turned toward the door. Silence prevailed as we stared. When it didn’t move or even rattle, we both took a deep breath.
Her hand went to her chest. “Honest, Miss Alex, I don’t know what to think or feel. I don’t know if it real or not.”
“What do you think Momma knew that Alton didn’t want her to know? Was it about him and other women?”
Jane blew out a long breath. “No! Well, yes, she knew that for a long time. She’d say if some whore would help him out, more power to her. It’d be one time she don’t have to.”
My eyes widened. “My momma said that?”
Her cheeks rose. “Yes, sorry. I guess I thought you were old enough to hear that.”
“I-I guess I am, but oh my. If that’s not it, what did she know? Do you have any idea?”
“I don’t know exactly. But it has to do with your marriage to Mr. Spencer.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I’m not marrying Mr. Spencer. I’m not marrying anyone right now, but if I did, it wouldn’t be him.”
Jane tilted her head to the side. “It’d be that young man?”
I shrugged. “We haven’t talked about anything like that. We’ve only been dating since… well, we met last summer.”
“But you like him? You’re living with him?”
I couldn’t hide my smile. “I do and yes. I have an apartment, but as I said, he’s protective. I’m safer at his apartment. Besides, I want to be there.”
“Not here.”
“No, Jane. I want to be with Lennox, but I’m here for Momma, and I’m not leaving until I know she’s going to be all right.”
Jane stood and walked toward me. Reaching for my hands, she smiled. “Child, I ain’t never been happier to hear your voice than I was when you called. How did you know? I was praying. Was it God? Did He tell you to call?”
My stomach twisted. “Something like that.”
“Praise the Lord. Miss Alex, I know you can help.”
“I hope so, Jane. I hope so.”
THE HANDS OF the clock moved painstakingly slowly as the sky beyond my bedroom morphed from Georgia sapphire blue to a deep, velvety black and eventually filled with stars. Sitting in the sill of the giant window, I watched the driveway. The cobblestones were no longer illuminated with lights. They’d all been turned off near midnight. Now, nearing two in the morning, only the silvery shadows cast by the moon lit the property in front of Montague Manor.
There wasn’t much to see. If my bedroom faced toward the back of the original plantation, I could watch the lake and the fields beyond. However, my view was limited to the front. I’d imagined Clayton’s SUV barreling toward the manor.
It hadn’t happened. Not one car had come up the drive, not since I took up my post. One had left. I’d watched from behind the curtain. I was a spy trying my best to understand this strange yet familiar terrain.
The car had left after Jane’s visit, after dinner had been brought, and after the sun had set. I’d stood perfectly still as the black sedan drove to the door. I didn’t know the driver, yet he wore the customary uniform. It was when the passengers made their way down the broad steps that I knew he worked for the Spencers. The first to come into view was Miss Suzanna, flanked by Alton. My stomach churned as he guided her toward the car, his hand securely placed in the small of her back.
Friendly gesture?
I wondered, until he leaned closer to kiss her goodbye. It was on her cheek, but something felt wrong, as if it were more than friendship. I had a sinking suspicion that their camaraderie wasn’t based upon common concern over my mother.
However, before I could let my thoughts linger, my attention quickly diverted to the next couple: Bryce and Chelsea. Judging by the time, nearly nine o’clock, the four of them must have enjoyed a nice dinner here at Montague Manor.
My heart ached and mind questioned my new reality. I was sequestered to my bedroom while Chelsea dined in the Montague Manor dining room. The question turned to indignation as Bryce helped her into the backseat and she turned toward him and smiled.
The simple expression was the twisting of a knife, one I hadn’t even realized had been inserted into my heart. How does one suffer a stab wound without knowing? I couldn’t answer. Nevertheless, in that moment, seeing her smile up at Edward Bryce Carmichael Spencer, the flesh of my chest tore as the blade plunged deeper.
I’d hoped for more information from Jane, but she hadn’t been the one to bring my meal or retrieve the tray. I didn’t know the young lady, though she fit Alton’s profile: young, attractive, and silent.
Each passing minute and hour, my mind swirled with the reality around me as well as what was happening away from Montague Manor. Though I had the ability to leave my bedroom, I worried about the possible repercussions. Would Alton suspect that Jane had given me the means? What would that mean for her? Why hadn’t she been back?
I waited and bided my time until the nighttime silence settled over the manor.
During my wait, I’d realized that other than seeing Nox’s telephone number once on a Post-it note in Karen Flores’s office, I’d never known the digits. Instead, I’d relied upon my phone to hold that vital information. Though I racked my brain, the numbers were nowhere to be found.
I contemplated locating my phone. Would Alton take it with him to the master suite? Could it be in his office? For hours I paced and contemplated until I found myself settled on the giant windowsill overlooking the main entry and exit of Montague Manor.
At some point, I searched my purse and wallet. What had I done with that Post-it note? Had I saved it? If I had, I couldn’t find it. However, tucked away behind a credit card in my wallet was a business card, one I’d been given in case of an emergency, one that when I’d received it, I’d considered less of a lifeline and more of an anchor, one that I’d feared had been capable of drowning me in my poor decisions.
Now, after two in the morning, with Deloris’s card and number secured in the pocket of my robe, it was time to search for a telephone. During my childhood, each and every room had been wired for the house phones. Within the manor were multiple lines and direct buttons to access the staff. The phone system was much like what a large hotel would still have today.
The tumblers clicked as I turned the key. Their echo seemed louder than it would ever have been during the day. Twisting and pulling the crystal doorknob toward me, I peered out into the hallway. Part of me feared there might be a guard sitting outside my room, but there was none. As quietly as I could, I closed my door and relocked it. If anyone came by and tried the handle, they would hopefully assume I was inside.
The corridor was dark and silent, except for the occasional small nightlight between every few doors, illuminating the way. I inserted the key and opened an empty bedroom. With a click of the light, I saw that the bedside stand was devoid of a telephone. Quietly, I repeated the task, room by room. Not one contained a telephone. Apparently, even Montague Manor moved with the times. Everyone had gone cellular.
When I reached the end of the hall, I second-guessed my plan. I could stay on the second floor and make my way to the library. The downside was that it was closer to Mother and Alton’s suite. The upside was that it held less of a chance of meeting staff. Then again, at this hour would anyone be awake?
As I lingered, my heart beat rapidly, creating a cadence like a drumline or a firing squad. I refused to decide which one.
Staying close to the wall, I made my way down the grand stairs one step at a time, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkened foyer. I’d left my slippers in my room, deciding instead that I could be quieter in bare feet. Step by step, I moved closer to
the ground floor.
I forced myself to inhale and exhale, certain that if I didn’t, I’d pass out before finding a way to reach Deloris. Like the second level, the first floor was quiet. Only the hum of the air conditioning dominated the air as I moved along the corridor I’d walked earlier in the day. Alton’s office was risky, but I knew without a doubt it contained a telephone.
I took a deep breath as I reached for the door handle. Would it be locked?
I pushed the door inward and it opened. Peering inside, I once again held my breath, a part of me fearful that he’d be present. Shadows lurked in the darkness, their presence were felt more than seen. I stepped within and waited for my eyes to adjust. At least in the hallways there’d been indirect lighting. Alton’s office was black. Even the draperies appeared to be pulled, blocking the moon’s rays. I pushed the door closed behind me as the latch clicked closed.
I debated on turning on the lights, knowing that there was a lamp on a nearby end table between two high-backed leather chairs. My thoughts went to the setup of the room. Twenty-four years of experience combined with an embedded memory of this room allowed me to walk without colliding into anything. Perhaps the unwillingness of Montague Manor to change had its advantages.
I fumbled for the switch.
Light was faster than sound, yet before my fingers twisted the knob, I heard the footsteps.
“Oh!” I stifled a gasp. My heart that had slowed to normal speed jumpstarted, the jolt sending shock waves throughout my body.
An arm went around my waist as a hand covered my lips. In a fraction of a second, I was held tightly against a hard body.
“He said you’d try this.” Bryce’s low growl came near my ear. “I told him you were smarter than that. I guess I was wrong.”
I’d seen him leave with Chelsea. How was he here?
His warm whiskey breath teased my neck, sending chills from my spine to my bare toes. I fought against his hold.
“Please, Bryce…” My words came out muffled by his hand.
Without thinking, I quickly bent forward and snapped backward with all my force. The back of my head collided with his face. What did it hit? His nose? His chin? At the same time my elbow met with his stomach.
Ooaf.
It wasn’t a word but a sound as his grip loosened. Without pause, I broke free and raced for the door.
The sliver of light shining beneath the large door was my goal, my finish line or perhaps my start line. Once beyond, I imagined screaming for help as I ran back upstairs. Lunging forward, my bare feet tripped on the plush carpet as they were captured. Helplessly, I fell forward, ending my race before it began.
My arms flew out, barely catching myself and saving my face from hitting the carpet as Bryce pulled me backward, causing my robe to move upward moments before he landed on top of me. I fought to breathe as his weight covered my back. Slowly he moved, a deep laugh filling the darkened office as he readjusted, the entire time keeping me pinned as he straddled my body.
“Damn, you nearly broke my fucking nose.” His breath and words were close as he leaned down, pulling my head backward with his fist in my hair.
“Let me up,” I demanded.
Kicking my feet I met air as Bryce released my hair and grabbed my shoulders. I was helpless as he turned me over, holding me down, straddling my waist, and securing my arms at my side.
“Asshole,” I spewed. “Let me go.”
For a split second, in the lightening darkness, his face and outline of his broad shoulders came into view. From the shadows around his eyes, I feared he’d slap me as Alton had done. Instead, he painfully seized my chin. “Shut the fuck up, Alexandria.”
When I didn’t respond, he leaned closer. “Even though I was wrong, I can’t tell you how fucking happy I am to finally have the right one.”
“What?”
The word was barely out when his hand went from my chin to my lips, crushing them painfully against my teeth until my chin was down as far as it could go. The telltale taste of copper alerted me to blood.
“I told you earlier,” he said, his warning slowing in a menacing tone, “you need to learn to keep your mouth shut. Now is an excellent time to give that a try.” He bent forward until our noses were nearly touching. “Can you do that? Can you listen for just a minute?”
My head barely moved as I attempted to nod.
Again, his laugh filled the office. “I like your spunk almost as much as your willingness to submit. We’ll have more fun than I’d imagined.”
It wasn’t only his words that twisted my stomach, but the realization that his erection was probing my stomach as he leaned down.
Slowly he lessened the pressure against my mouth. I sucked my bruised lips between my teeth as he sat taller.
“You have two choices,” Bryce said. “I let you up and we talk about whatever it was you were going to do, or I keep you here and call your father. I have my cell phone in my pocket. Think about it: do you really want him to know he was right?”
It wasn’t only that I didn’t want him to call Alton. More importantly, I wanted him off of me. “Let me up.” When he didn’t move, I added, “Please.”
His knuckles caressed my cheek. “That’s the Alexandria I know, polite and genteel.”
Though internally I shivered, I did my best to remain still. “Bryce, please don’t do anything that will ruin us. Please help me.”
His chest heaved with indecision. “Us? Really, Alexandria? Are you now saying there’s an us?” He moved his attention from my face to the lapels of my robe. Brushing them aside, he revealed my nightgown.
My stomach twisted. “Bryce, you don’t want it to be like this.”
His eyes opened wider. “How do you want it to be?”
I wanted it to be never, but that wouldn’t get him off of me. “You know I don’t want it.” His knees applied pressure to my wrists secured at my sides as he sat taller. “But,” I added, “if it’s in our future, I want it to be special.”
Bryce leaned down. “Was your first time with him special?”
Pinned beneath Bryce, I was at a definite disadvantage; nevertheless, I couldn’t answer him forthrightly and tell him that despite being treated like a slut, my first time with Nox had been magical.
I couldn’t think about Nox and our first time. I couldn’t think about Del Mar or Highway 101. I couldn’t think about the gas station or later in his suite. I had to concentrate on Bryce and getting him off of me. “I could ask you the same question, but the her would be rather ambiguous.”
Bryce’s chest expanded as he took a deep breath, lifted his weight to his knees, and then swung to my side. Scrambling as fast as I could, I crawled backward and stood. But before I could run for the door, Bryce backed me into one of the leather chairs near the light.
His tone was low and slow. “We’re getting married. I’ll have you, and I’m not spending the rest of my life apologizing for fucking willing participants.” He reached again for my chin. “Alexandria, I believe you were reaching for that light. Do it. Turn it on and see what you did to me.”
“Bryce…”
“Do it!”
I fumbled again for the switch, my moist fingers having difficulty grasping as I turned the small knob. Fearful of seeing what I’d felt against my stomach, I closed my eyes before the light registered.
He again squeezed my chin. “Open your damn eyes. Look at me.”
Taking a deep breath, I did as he said. With his grasp of my chin, he had my face directed toward his. It wasn’t what I expected, but I soon realized what he wanted me to see.
“Y-your cheek?” I said, lifting my hand to the raised knot, now a shade of deep pink.
He closed his eyes as I ran my fingers over the contusion.
When his eyes opened, he turned and sank into the other chair, on the opposite side of the lamp. “We may have to postpone our engagement pictures.”
“Good idea,” I said.
“Postpone. Not cancel,” he clari
fied as he leaned back against the high back and sighed.
I nearly laughed at the sight of his mussed blond hair. Normally he was one of those preppy-looking men without a hair out of place. I took a deep breath and focused on my mission. “Bryce, this isn’t going to happen.”
His gray eyes opened wide as a smile broke across his face. “I’d tell you not to fight it, but damn, I think I like it when you fight.” He rubbed his own cheek. “But I’ll need to do something to ensure you don’t leave marks, at least not ones that show.”
My eyes fluttered closed in a silent attempt to stop the bile. “I need to make a call. Please, let me call a friend. I just need to tell her that I’m all right.”
“Her?”
THE DAMN PINGING of my iPad brought me back to reality. I ran my hand through my hair as I tried to make sense of the sound. It was dark, the middle of the night, yet the sound wouldn’t stop.
Ping.
Ping.
I’d finally fallen asleep after a few too many fingers of whiskey. It didn’t seem to matter how much alcohol I consumed—it wasn’t enough to wash away my guilt at not being able to help Charli. I should be with her. She should be with me.
Her crumpled letter, the one that both Deloris and I knew wasn’t from her, lay on the bedside stand beside my bed. Though she hadn’t been the one to write it, its presence gave me a sense of connection. Next to the letter was my phone. I’d sent her multiple text messages and even left a couple of voicemails. My mind told me it was useless, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
I continued to reason that when she finally turned on her phone, she’d see that I’d tried, that despite the roadblocks, I’d done my best to reach her and wouldn’t stop.
Pulling myself from my stupor, I opened my tablet. My personal messages were multiplying by the second. Each one was from Deloris.
What the hell?
Was she sleeping on a button?
I opened the first, second, and then the third. They were all the same.
“ALEX IS ON THE PHONE. COME TO MY ROOM.”
The sheets around my legs were suddenly restraints hindering my movement. Kicking them away, wearing only gym shorts and a t-shirt, I rushed from the lonely bedroom and through the front room of my suite. Without stopping for shoes, I grabbed the room key and hurried out into the hallway. A few doors down, I came to Deloris’s room. I would have known the number, but with the door slightly ajar I could hear Deloris’s voice.
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