by J Marie
dismissing it, as she should. When she turned my hand back over, her delicate
fingers traced along the rough calluses of my palm, exploring every line of my hand
as if she were trying to discover every terrible thing I’d done with them. I’d lost
count of the lives these hands had taken years ago, the body count too many to
recall.
Stretching her hand against mine, her fingers barely reached past my second set
of knuckles and for some reason, I found myself curling my fingers over hers. That
was when I allowed my hand to take over hers, tracing her lines and delicate
features. Even though her hand was small, it was still capable of so much damage,
so much fury. Being punched by her little fist felt like being stabbed with a baseball
bat—small and concentrated but still painful as hell.
My fingers kept up their expedition until they came across some minor calluses
beginning to form on the top of Jaden’s palm, just below her fingers. My fingertips
lingered on the tiny rough patterns, suddenly frowning in disapproval.
“You’re getting calluses from all the weights you’ve been lifting,” I said softly.
“Mmmhmm,” she mumbled with a slight nod against my chest.
I didn’t want her hands rough like mine. I wanted them soft and feminine,
polished and pristine. But still capable of delivering a strong punch if she needed
to.
“I’ll get you some weight lifting gloves,” I said.
“Mmkay,” she said sleepily, her eyes finally closing while her fingers curled
around mine.
I placed her hand back down onto my abdomen, my hand still clutching hers and
loving everything I felt. That night I fell asleep dreaming of something I’d never
seen before—Jaden’s genuine smile. It was so rare to see, and I suddenly decided I
wanted it more often.
29
SURPRISE
The next day I was gifted with a surprise visit from Irina and Anya. I was so excited
to see them my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. They couldn’t understand my
words, but they could translate through my body language.
Irina gave me a fresh new cut and blow out while Anya took care of my nails and
toes. I was a little shocked to see she was painting my toes a shiny bright red with
sparkly white tips, which wasn’t my usual color. But what was even more
suspicious was when she continued to paint my finger nails the same red color
while giving my ring fingers an accent nail that resembled a candy cane. It was a
cool design, and I praised her well for it.
I found it oddly intriguing that Anya had given me a Christmas-themed
manicure and pedicure. Maybe Darren had been listening to me last night about the
holidays, after all. Maybe I could ask for a small Christmas tree for my room or
something. That would be nice, especially since no Christmas decorations adorned
the house. If my iPod didn’t have a calendar on it, I’d never know what day it was,
and that would make things even more miserable than before.
It was weird having Clive and Owen present in the room while Anya and Irina
worked. It made everything that much more uncomfortable, the anxiety in the
room palpable. I felt like this was an overstep—another invasion of time that was
precious to me. It was completely unnecessary, especially after Holly.
When I met Darren for dinner, I waited until he was finished eating, hoping that
his satisfied palate would make for better negotiations. I finally got the nerve to
speak up when I felt my plate had been diligently cleared enough and cleared my
throat.
“Do Clive and Owen have to be present in my room when Anya and Irina are
there?” I asked as nicely as possible.
“Yes,” Darren said without even looking at me, dismissing the question.
I grimace at him. “Why? I’m not going to do anything.”
“I know. And them being there is exactly why you won’t.”
I almost rolled my eyes. “Even if they weren’t there, I still wouldn’t do anything.
I don’t need a repeat of what happened to Holly,” I said gravely.
“You’ve already admitted to me once that my absence makes you care less about
my rules. And I’ve already stretched far enough on letting you roam the woods
without your bodyguards as it is. That is as far as my trust in you will go.”
I pursed my lips. “Could they at least just stand outside my open bedroom
door?” I tried to counter.
“No. Now, come on. I have a gift for you.”
I paled.
Oh, no. Not another “gift.”
The failed negotiations forgotten, Darren took me by my hand and led me over
to the living room where a rectangular box, wrapped in red and gold wrapping
paper and a big red bow sat on the coffee table. Setting me down on the couch,
Darren placed the present on my lap and sat down across from me.
“Open it,” he said with a nod.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I carefully opened the present; gently tearing off
the paper and crumpling it into a ball to make the least amount of mess as possible,
I finally opened the box. Pushing aside the white tissue paper, my hands
encountered soft black fabric.
Oh, God. Please no lingerie…
Lifting the material in front of my face, I came to realize it was a single pair of
black leggings. Confused, I felt the thick cloth in my hands noticing they were
fleece lined. There was no way I’d need to wear fleece-lined leggings here,
especially since I wasn’t technically allowed to wear pants … so what the fuck were
these for?
“Fleece-lined leggings?” I asked him, cocking an eyebrow in question. “I
thought these were on the blacklist?”
“I figured you might need them,” he said, that sly little grin lifting the corners
of his mouth.
“Why? Are we going somewhere?” I asked, almost hopeful I’d get a new change
of scenery.
He nodded. “You have until tomorrow to pack whatever it is you want or need.
We leave in the afternoon.”
“Where are we going?” I asked way too excitedly.
“And spoil the surprise? I don’t think so.”
“Obviously somewhere cold,” I said, giving him the slyness in my smile now.
“And that’s the only hint you’ll get. Now get upstairs and start packing. I have a
lot of work to get done before we leave.”
Darren then stood up to leave, kissing me on the forehead before he left the
room.
Looking down at the fleece leggings in my hands, I didn’t know what to think.
Obviously, he’d decided to exploit my confession about the coming of Christmas
and was likely taking me somewhere with snow. Maybe we were going somewhere
with mountains? I felt my heart race with excitement and couldn’t help but smile at
the idea of getting the fuck out of this house. I was getting tired of beaches
surrounding me.
I quickly headed back to my room and looked in my closet, trying to figure out
what the hell I should pack. I didn’t have any clothes fit for winter, except for the
new leggings in my hand. I briefly wondered if Clive Owen might be able to assist,
and then laughed at how funny it might be. I poked my head out of my bedroom
door to find the two of them stan
ding like statues as always.
“Hey, Team Rocket, you guys know what the hell I’m supposed to pack for this
surprise little trip?”
“The necessities, Miss Jaden,” Clive answered without moving from his
position.
“Yeah, but what are the necessities? I don’t have any winter clothes.”
“Your clothing will be provided for you. Just bring what you think you’ll need to
keep up your appearance.”
“Like your hairspray,” Owen added with a smug smile.
I scoffed at him. “Hairspray can make an excellent flame thrower, Owen. Just
remember that,” I snapped and shut the door on them.
Asses.
Trudging over to my closet, I grabbed a good-sized duffel bag and headed into
my bathroom. I packed my flat iron, curling iron, hairspray, my face wash and
moisturizers, toothbrush and hairbrush, some makeup, and hair ties. Thankfully,
there was enough room for my tablet and iPod. The bag zipped closed easily and sat
on my bed looking sad and lonely. It was weird not having a larger secondary bag
containing my clothes. I didn’t care for any of the clothes in my closet currently,
and I was curious about the change in my wardrobe when we got to wherever the
hell it was that he was taking me.
I really shouldn’t let myself get excited. This trip was just another form of
manipulation, Darren’s way of buying my affection, and I hated that I’d have to
fucking reward him for it. I had to try to enjoy myself, give him the illusion that I
was blissfully ignorant of his methods of “persuasion” when it came to winning me
over. He’d lose, but I doubted he wouldn’t be able to surprise me nonetheless. I had
no idea what to expect, but I had a feeling it was going to be nothing like what I was
expecting.
I didn’t see Darren for the rest of the night or even the following morning for
breakfast. I went through my normal routine for the day, working out for my
singular solid hour, showering, lunchtime, and a stupid-ass painting session before
I was finally called away to clean up and meet Darren downstairs in ten minutes.
After washing up in my bathroom, I came out to find Owen and Clive standing in
my room.
“Ready?” Clive asked me.
“Yeah,” I replied, suddenly nervous.
Clive nodded then took my little travel bag from my dresser while Owen led me
out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Darren was talking on the phone as he
paced in the foyer, glancing at me only when I finally stood on the final step. I
waited for him now while Clive and Owen went to load our luggage into the trunk of
the car.
“Excellent. I’ll come by to pick it up in two days. Thanks,” Darren spoke into the
phone and hung up.
So not only were we going somewhere unknown to me, Darren had business to
attend to there. Great.
Pocketing his phone, he turned to me still standing on the last step, and I found
myself suddenly irritated by the fact that even though I was a step higher, the
motherfucker was still taller than I was. He smiled, knowing what I was thinking,
and placed his hands on my hips, pulling me toward him.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“I guess,” I said with a shrug. Not like I had a choice in where I was going
anyway.
“You’re going to love it. I promise,” he gleamed.
“I’ll decide that,” I said with a smirk, but Darren just smiled in his usual
“challenge accepted” sort of way.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and tugging me out the door and into the
car, another sleek BMW. Clive and Owen stood off to the side, watching closely.
Were they not going with us? I couldn’t help but notice the exact same car idled in
front of ours and another was behind it. I didn’t know if I should feel better
knowing we had backup in case of some kind of attack, or worse, that we needed it
in the first place.
Scott was already behind the wheel while Darren ushered me into the backseat.
Strapping myself in, I stared out the window. Waiting only a few seconds before the
car took off, I watched as we left my shadows and pretty cage behind. I wondered
what the newest temporary one would look like.
Darren was mostly silent as he studied his tablet, his eyes focused and
determined as he read whatever he was reviewing. At one point, he even pulled out
the stylus, made notes, and sent it off. I was such a snoop, but I couldn’t help it. I
just hoped he didn’t catch me doing it.
The car was luxurious and comfortable with all its soft black leather and dark
tinted windows. The glass windows seemed much thicker than usual, and my heart
skipped a beat when I suddenly realized they were bulletproof. I sat back in my seat,
suddenly feeling all the blood drain from my face, and I came to remember that
being with Darren automatically put me danger. He wasn’t the only threat to my
safety—his enemies were. And the moment I married him, the target on my back
would suddenly triple in size. Fuck.
About thirty minutes later, we arrived at the tarmac where Darren’s private
plane was waiting. I groaned aloud, remembering the last and first time I had ever
been on a plane and the lack of joy I experienced during my travel.
“Everything will be fine, Jaden,” Darren said, his eyes still transfixed on his
work as he typed away in an email.
“As long as you don’t have any ties to terrorist groups who could shoot us out of
the sky,” I retorted.
Darren shrugged. “They’re not that stupid,” he said plainly.
I felt my jaw drop.
The car pulled over to stop, and Scott quickly exited to open my door, which was
under child lock, of course. The men from the other cars loaded our baggage on the
plane, the same plane I suddenly had no interest in boarding, no matter where it
was going.
Darren walked up the steps to the plane first, Scott behind me as I stood at the
bottom, suddenly frozen in place. Why was I so terrified of flying? I had a better
chance of dying in a car accident … or did I? Now that I drove around in bulletproof
vehicles.
“Jaden, let’s go,” Darren said, turning back to look at me, but I couldn’t ignore
the slight tremor of the growl in his voice.
“Okay, okay,” I said, shaking my head and putting on my big bitch panties to
walk up those goddamn steps.
I sucked in a breath as I sat down in my seat within the cabin across from Darren
who now looked a little irritated. He patted the seat next to him by the window
while giving me a no-nonsense glare. I quickly switched seats while Scott took my
place and sat down, opening a laptop on his lap.
Within ten minutes, we were in the air, and my knuckles were ready to burst
from my skin from clutching the seat.
“Do you want some water?” Darren asked me, concern in his voice.
“So you can drug me again? Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
When the plane leveled, Darren got up and pulled a bottle of water out of the
mini fridge connected to the bar, handing it to me.
“It’s not drugged. I promise,” he assured me.
“Fine,” I said, taking the bottle and nearly downing it. I hated appearin
g this
nervous, but I had no clue where we were going, what direction, and how long the
flight was. Maybe I could get some hints. Darren was still typing on his tablet when
I finally got the courage to ask him.
“Gonna tell me where we’re going yet?”
“Nope,” he replied casually, his eyes never leaving the screen in his hands.
I sighed. “Can you at least tell me how long the flight will be?”
“Seven hours,” he replied.
“Seven?!”
“Want the drugs now?” he asked with a smirk.
“No,” I snapped, turning away to pull out my iPod and listen to my music.
Two naps, dinner, and seven hours later, I felt myself being woken up.
“Jaden, wake up. We’re about to land,” came Darren’s voice.
I groaned in my sleep, slipping off the blanket that had magically appeared
around me, and stretched like a cat. I moved to lift the window blind when Darren
gripped my wrist.
“Leave those shut,” he ordered.
“Why?”
“Because I told you to, that’s why,” he said sternly.
“Fine,” I replied and lifted my hand away from the blind like it was a wild
animal.
“Clothes have been laid out for you on the bed. I need you to quickly change into
them. It’s very cold outside.”
“Cold, huh?”
“Extremely,” he confirmed.
That was when I noticed Darren had changed his clothes. He wore a black
turtleneck that showed off every muscular inch of him, dark jeans, and black
leather boots. Goddamn him. The man could probably look good in a fucking potato
sack.
“Now, hurry up,” he said, pulling me from my seat and giving my ass a light
swat.
Making my way into the bedroom, I found a long-sleeved gray sweater dress,
thick black fleece-lined leggings, a pair of sleek looking black knee-high snow
boots, and a long black wool pea coat, gray scarf, and gloves neatly laid out on the
bed. Everything fit perfectly, the dress falling just above my knee, the leggings
warm and soft, and the boots sturdy and comfortable. The coat was a little
restricting, but most pea coats were. When I was dressed, I made my way back over
to my seat, buckling myself in and waiting for the dreaded descent to begin.
When the plane finally landed, and we were cleared to exit, Darren pulled a large