Captive Bride - Alta Hensley Page 0,47

knows Papa is playing his game right back. Two men who have fury bubbling up inside but neither will show it.

“Sugar,” I add, hating the tension in the room. “I’ll make us a cake.”

Papa nods again and then goes back into the tunnel.

“You drink?” I ask, knowing Papa Rich rarely did.

He shrugs. “I used to drink a lot. Maybe too much.” He chuckles. “This place has been the worst detox known to man.”

“Why?” I ask. “Why too much?”

“Life,” he says almost sadly. “In some crazy way, being here made me realize that I was in some sort of prison of my own in New York. I think I was self-medicating.”

“Booze is a medicine?” I know I’m sheltered from all the things in the outside world, but I have never heard of alcohol being medicinal.

“Just a saying. But it did seem to make me function better. Pills and whisky were my go to.” He looks at me. “Like I said though, this place broke me of that habit cold turkey.”

“Do you miss it?”

“No.” Christopher hops off the bed and walks to the window, jerking me alongside him. “How often does he go to town in the winter?”

“Not as often,” I say.

“How long is he gone when he does?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure. A couple of hours with good weather, but the snow slows him down.”

Christopher’s face lights up and he looks at me. “He’s gone for hours?”

I nod. I know what he’s thinking. What he’s hoping.

He’s wrong.

There’s no way out of here.

There’s no way.

“Is there any other vehicle here? Another ranger truck? Anything?”

I shake my head.

Christopher stares out the window waiting for Papa Rich to leave. The glass fogs up with our breaths, and he wipes at the glass for a better view. “What about the ranger’s office? A phone? There has to be a phone.”

“Papa has a radio, and he takes it with him. I told you this. No phone. No way out.”

“How do you know there’s no phone? How do you know? We need to go see for ourselves.”

I reach for his hand to try to soothe his wild mind. “I know, Christopher. There’s no phone, he locks everything, and he’s thought of every possibility. Trust me. I know.”

I hate that I’m stealing his hope. I can’t stand that I’m the reason his face is falling from excited to despair.

I so desperately want to be the good wife.

I want to please. I want to please more than anything.

“We can look if you want.”

Although I already know it will be useless, he needs to see for himself. He needs to walk down the path of hopelessness on his own. I can only hold his hand and be by his side as he does so… as a dutiful wife.

19

Christopher

I refuse to give up hope. Day after day and I refuse. The snow is thick, the air heavy with evil, and all I can do is sit and wait. There will be a time. There will be an opening of opportunity, and I will take it.

I have to hand it to Richard.

The man is smart.

There is no phone, no way to reach the outside world. Ember is right about that.

I have no idea where he hides his keys to the truck even though I look around the kitchen every time we are there to prepare meals. I know I will have one shot, and I don’t want to be reckless or foolish when I make the move. I have to be patient. The time will come. I know it will.

“We should start prep for supper soon. I want to make a special recipe of mine for you,” Ember says as we sit near the wood stove.

I give her a smile because I know how hard she tries to keep me happy. I wish she could meet the real me. I wish she could see the man I truly am when I’m not shackled and captured against my will. I think she’d like me better. I think she’d feel more loved because I would have more to offer. I would have a soul that wasn’t shattered into a million pieces. I am barely hanging on in here. I feel as if the monster of this place is eating me alive, and though I try hard not to take it out on Ember, I know I do. I see the pain in her eyes when I snap. I see her desperate need to fill my days with the rainbows and flowers she imagines, but