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I didn’t have any right to ask Jolie for forgiveness.
I’d kidnapped her and locked her away from the world, and put her in a position where she’d been forced to take another woman’s life. She’d betrayed me, too, but only as a reaction to everything I’d done to her. I was definitely the bad guy in this situation, and maybe I’d be able to make things right if I changed my plans, but I wasn’t going to.
Time passed unbearably slowly. I resumed pacing, obsessively checking my phone for both the time and messages. Jolie had given up trying to persuade me to change my mind and was curled up back on the floor, her face buried into her knees. She was exhausted—we both were—and guilt twanged inside me for putting her through this. She deserved better than all of this. She deserved better than her father.
She deserved better than me.
When all of this was done. She’d be rid of her father for good, and I’d be forced out of her life, too. Then she could go on and live her life. I only hoped the things I’d put her through wouldn’t affect her later. She’d killed Loretta, and I was sure she’d suffer the horror of that for years to come, but I hoped in time she’d forgive herself and learn to move on.
A strange noise came from the hallway, and I frowned and stopped my pacing to listen. What was that? Had I imagined it? I waited for a moment, straining my ears, and then the sound came again.
I turned toward Jolie, trying to judge by her expression whether she’d picked up on anything, but her face was buried in her knees. “Did you hear that?”
Jolie lifted her head, her nose wrinkled. “Err... yeah, kind of.”
“What is it? Old pipes in the house or something?”
Her cheeks pinked. “No, actually, it was my stomach.”
I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. “Your stomach.”
“So? I’m hungry,” she said defensively, pushing her shoulders back and tilting up her chin. “Thirsty, too. I haven’t eaten anything since we were on the boat.”
“There’s nothing we can do about it. You’re going to have to stay hungry.”
I was trying to be hard on her, but my stomach was empty, too. It wasn’t as though I could call for takeout, and I wasn’t going to risk leaving the house, just in case. Not only did I not trust leaving Jolie here alone, but I’d have to tie her up if I did, and what would happen if I tied her up, left her here, and then her father showed up? She’d be defenseless.
“Is the water still connected?” I asked, thinking I could get us both a drink from the faucet.
She nodded. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t like to think what the pipes are like after all this time.”
“Might be all right if I run them awhile.” I didn’t want to make either of us sick, however. That was the last thing we needed right now.
“Surely we’re okay to leave for a short while. We don’t have to be long—just nip out and grab something and come back.”
I couldn’t hide my skepticism. “And give you enough time to try to escape again?”
She held up both hands. “I’d promise I won’t do anything stupid, but I’m probably wasting my breath. You’re not going to believe me, no matter what I say.”
I shot her a scowl. “I’m glad we’re finally on the same page, but we’re not leaving the house. One of my contacts will get eyes on him soon—he can’t stay hidden forever—and then we’ll make a decision.”
I briefly debated whether I could get one of my contacts to bring us some supplies, but then pushed away the idea. I needed for everyone to keep their ears to the ground about Dorman and couldn’t afford to lose someone by having them running menial chores. We were going to have to stay hungry and thirsty, and hope her father took hours rather than days to come out of hiding and come and find Jolie. There was no way I was going to risk either leaving the house or taking her out with me. I should have planned better for this, but I hadn’t thought we’d be here that long. In my head, Patrick Dorman would have been so concerned for his daughter’s safety that he’d have done everything in his power to come straight here, but it seemed Jolie was right about him not caring as much as I’d thought.
Jolie sighed and let the back of her head fall against the wall behind her.
“You ever wish we’d just stayed on the boat?” she asked, staring up at the ceiling and not looking at me. “We could have kept going and never docked at the marina. I would have liked that—the sea and the dolphins and the sun.” She let out a long sigh. “It was kind of like paradise for a while.”
“After you got your sea legs, you mean.” I was talking about the seasickness that had affected her initially.
She gave a small smile. “Yes, after that.”
I thought of what had happened between us during our time on the boat. I wanted to tell myself it was all just sex. It was a physical thing that didn’t mean anything, but I knew I was lying to myself. Having her near me made my heart swell with bittersweet joy. I wanted nothing more than to be around her all the time, but I knew that was impossible.
“You ever wonder if we’d have noticed each other under different circumstances?” she continued. “If we’d bumped into each other in a bar, or met through work, or even friends?”
“I don’t have any friends,” I pointed out.
“Okay, let’s pretend that part as well. Do you think we’d have ended up fucking, or was it only because I was your captive that you were ever attracted to me?”
I loved hearing the word ‘fucking’ coming from her perfect lips.
“That wasn’t the only reason I was attracted to you, Jolie. That’s like saying the only reason you were attracted to me was because of the big house and the money. We’re more than our situations.”
She looked toward me, her gaze sharp. “Are we? Isn’t it our situations that define us?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s how we deal with our situations that defines us.”
I’d always admired how she’d dealt with ours. Where many women would have crumbled and spent days crying in a corner, she’d been cunning and fierce, and even to the last moment had never given up. It seemed the things that frustrated me the most about her were also the things I loved.
Her eyes were filled with such regret and sadness, and I saw the possibility of a different future reflected in their depths. If only things had been different.