Captive Bride - Alta Hensley Page 0,15

room and read my mind on what I would do once I knew he gave me enough slack to move more freely.

“How did you sleep?” I hear a soft voice from behind me ask as I stare up at the window. I didn’t notice Ember enter the room.

“I think you know the answer to that since you drugged me,” I say as I walk back to my chair.

“Papa Rich said it would make you more comfortable.” She takes a few cautious steps toward me and points to the chain. “He said if I sprinkled the stew with the powder, he would give you more length so you can use the restroom.”

I don’t say anything but take in her appearance instead. She’s wearing another floral dress that seems to fit her better. The fabric is still worn, and the hem that reaches below her knee is frayed. She is still barefoot, her hair remains in a braid down her back, but her face seems to have more color. More life. The rosy color in her cheeks only brightens the blue in her eyes more. She is actually a very pretty woman, especially considering she clearly gets no assistance from salons or plastic surgeons like all the women I’m used to seeing in New York.

Her wide eyes are full of worry, and her fingertips touch her collarbone. “Are you mad at me?”

Such a simple question.

Such a normal question.

“There are a lot of people worried about me right now,” I say, examining her closely to see how she reacts to my statement.

She looks to her feet. I see guilt. Good.

“Do you have a big family?” She lifts her eyes and looks at me through long eyelashes. “Brothers and sisters?”

“No brothers or sisters, but I have a mother who I’m close with. I have friends and coworkers who no doubt are scared.” I consider telling her of Marissa too, but I do worry that if Richard finds out, he may just kill me and find another poor fool to go through this absurd courting. I need to stay alive long enough to somehow figure out a way to escape.

“Being an only child is lonely,” she says as she walks to the same crate she sat on yesterday. Sitting, she crosses her legs, leans forward, and locks her stare on me.

“I suppose so.”

“What is Rolling Stone? Papa Rich says that’s where you work.”

I swallow hard to force down the growing frustration. She’s acting like we are on a date learning about each other when what a normal woman would be doing is helping me come up with a plan to run away.

“It’s a magazine. I take pictures for it.” I have no idea if she even knows what a magazine is.

“I saw your camera when you first arrived.” She weaves her fingers together and looks down at them. “It broke when Papa Rich—”

“Can you stop calling him that?” I snap. “You aren’t a child. It makes you come across as…” I take a deep calming breath. “You do realize you are a grown woman, right?”

Her eyes narrow, and I see her breathing change. She stiffens her spine, and the rosy hue in her cheeks pale. She stands. “I’ll go cook you something for breakfast. Pap—my father has already left for work down the hill, so it’s just us today.”

She goes to the door, and I try to stop her. “Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so mean. It’s just that—”

She opens the door and leaves without saying another word.

I look around the room and consider all options again and again. I could try to break a crate and use the splintered wood as a weapon. But against who? As frustrating as Ember is, I’m not going to harm the woman. I really feel deep down that she is just as much a captive as me. I haven’t seen Richard since the first meeting, and I can already tell the man is smart. I highly doubt he will come close enough for me to use any form of violence in my favor. Not only isn’t the chain long enough to allow me to climb on a crate to see through the window, I’d never fit through the rectangular opening if I were to break the glass. I already screamed for help, and that got me nowhere.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

There is a high possibility a search party would be called to look for me. Unless somehow the crazy man is actually able to convince authorities I