“Listen, I don’t know what you’re going through. I won’t ever know, but I do know this, I’m here for you, okay? You want to comb every section of forest and water surrounding us to look for her, I’ll be there.”
“It’s a long shot, Owen. Like you said, anyone could have been wearing that perfume.” I think I remember he might not have said that.
“I did, but I don’t want you to listen to me. I’m a fucking cynic. I’m a pessimistic as Heaven is an optimistic. That doesn’t mean you are wrong. What do you think? Is she here?”
“I don’t fucking know, Owen. Dreams are just dreams. I can hardly remember yesterday. I’ll look for her regardless, like I always have, but I’m not holding my breath. I have to stay realistic.”
“And how has being realistic gotten you? Maybe you should dream a little. Our way of life isn’t like other peoples. We fucking rob criminals for a living and are rich because of it. We do what most people can’t even imagine, so who says being a little fantastical is a bad thing? Maybe that is how our lives are supposed to be.”
“Thought you said you were a cynic?” I ask, lifting a brow as I open my bedroom door.
“I didn’t say I believe in it. I just said there’s no harm in thinking outside the box. Get some rest, man. We will plan our search tomorrow. If she was at the market, it’s nothing the cameras couldn’t pick up.”
“But after all this time, here? I would have found her.”
“Maybe. Unless she never gets to go out.” On those words, Owen shuts the door, leaving me staring with an open jaw.
What if he is right? What if Kendrick never let her out of her cage?
I’m going to get her back.
He fucked up letting her go out in public. It would be impossible for him to get away from me now. Unless this is what he planned all along. Why would Kendrick live in Trinidad? Maybe he knows I’m here and wants to dangle her in front of me? No, that couldn’t be it.
No one knows I live here. I have scrubbed every surface of the web of my name. No records of me exist. I wanted to make sure Kendrick could never find me, but somehow, he did.
This has to be a challenge.
He wants a fight.
I’ll bring him war.
Chapter Eight
GABRIELLA
I wake up in Kendrick’s bed, the collar still wrapped around my throat, but at least the leash is off. I stare up at the trayed ceiling and think back to the market.
Sebastian.
He was here.
I saw him.
And he had looked … to die for.
Time treated him well. His hair was black, and his eyes were still as blue as ever, and I got lost in a dream. It was as close as we have ever been since I visited him in prison. I almost called out to him.
Almost.
But the fear of Kendrick kept my mouth shut.
It brings me comfort that Sebastian is here, in the same city; even if we barely missed each other.
“My sweet!” Kendrick bellows from the main floor.
I roll out of bed and hurry to the door, slinging on my robe quickly before making my way to the staircase. “Yes, Kendrick?” I say with a sweetness that holds no truth.
“Get down here and make me and my friends so breakfast,” he says.
“Yes, Kendrick,” I agree.
I hurry down the steps as fast as I can, not to please him, but to make sure I won’t get punished. I haven’t been punished in seven days, and I want to keep it that way.
“Wow, Kendrick. You were right,” a man I don’t recognize speaks up. “She is beautiful.”
Kendrick’s arm wraps around my waist and pulls me close to his side. I try to wiggle free, but he warns me to stop by digging his fingers into my skin. “I know. It’s the long hair, that creamy tan skin. She’s succulent, isn’t she?”
“Kendrick,” I plead as his hands tug at my robe. “Please,” I beg him not to. I'm not wearing anything under the robe.
“I have to show my guests what a beautiful pet you are, my sweet. After all, you’ll be seeing a lot of them around now that the time is getting closer.”
“Time?” I ask, my breath coming out in harsh pants as his fingers trail over my chest.
“You don’t need to worry about that right now, my sweet. It isn’t anything you need