The next few days flew by in a blur. At some point, Luis realized Gerome’s baby and the father were safe. Even though they’d been hurt during the rescue, Louis couldn’t bring him himself to care.
He’d moved to the guest bedroom after his breakdown. Without asking or announcing anything, he’d just occupied it. Gerome hadn’t said a word about it. In fact, he’d not seen the man since he’d left after their mating, and he didn’t want to change that.
A butler brought him food. Otherwise, everyone left him alone. He wanted it that way. He had nothing left to say to anyone. No one could change his situation, so they could all kiss his ass.
Luis spent his days curled up on the bed while watching TV. Continuing his studies was out of the question. He didn’t have money, a phone, identification... anything. Gerome and the king had taken it all from him. All he could do was hope for his days to end and pray it’d all be over soon.
He switched from one mindless reality show to another. They were all the same—boring as hell–but, at least, he didn’t feel so alone.
“Don’t you think it’s time to stop moping around?”
Luis looked up to stare at Gerome who stood in the doorway. Was he speaking to him? Luis focused on the TV again. He didn’t have to talk to Gerome.
“You will answer when I ask you a question. Do you understand?”
Luis tore his gaze away from the TV to see Gerome standing next to him, a scowl on his face. Since when did he care?
“What do you want from me?” Why the fuck was Gerome bothering him now?
He looked up to the face he associated with everything he hated. Gerome looked tired and worn out, but that wasn’t Luis’ fault. He’d only done what he was told—nothing more.
“I asked if you thought it was time to stop moping around. You’ve been hiding in the room for days now. I need you today for dinner with my parents. You will attend.” Gerome leaned down, getting into Luis’ face, a gleam in his eyes. “Do I make myself clear?” He straightened himself, running a hand over his jacket. “I’ll be here for you at seven. Be ready.”
Luis swallowed hard against the fear rising in his throat. Gerome’s tone left no room for debate. A part of Luis wanted to find out what would happen if he were still in bed at seven. Would his mate or the king kill him then? At this point, he didn’t really care. Everything sounded better than remaining trapped here day after day.
“Did you hear me? If I say something to you, I want an answer. That can’t be too hard, right?” Gerome growled again, his voice dangerously low.
Holy crap, the man was an asshole. “Yes, you’ve made yourself clear. Very clear. I will be ready at seven. Are jeans okay? I don’t have any other trousers.”
“I’ll have some delivered. You can’t wear jeans to dinner with the king. And take a shower and make yourself presentable, for heaven’s sake. It’s a shame how you’ve ignored your looks.” Gerome, slamming the door behind him, left the room without another word.
Luis looked down at himself. He’d showered a few times, but he didn’t remember when the last time had been. And he hadn’t bothered dressing in anything other than some PJs and a T-shirt he’d found in the closet. What was the point of doing so?
With a deep sigh, Luis rolled off the bed and shut off the TV. He better start making himself presentable. The bathroom held everything he could possibly need—towels, soap, shampoo, toothbrush, razors... simply everything.
He took one of the razors from the package and glanced in the mirror. Holy crap! He had bloodshot eyes and gray skin over a full beard. His shaggy blond hair fell in greasy strands into his eyes. He’d lost weight, which showed in his pronounced cheekbones and sunken eyes. He looked like shit warmed over. Getting presentable wasn’t possible with a just a shave and a shower, but he couldn’t do anything about the color of his skin or lack of weight.
On the other hand, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Who cared if he looked good or not? Surely not the king, and the prince even less.
Still, he needed a shave and a shower. With a deep sigh, he set to work, ridding himself of the beard. He didn’t have time to get a haircut, and besides, he didn’t know if he’d be allowed to leave the apartment.
He shaved off the excess hair on his face, then stepped into the shower. The hot water, coming from different angles due to the multiple showerheads in the wall, beat down on him. Luis closed his eyes and allowed the water to soak him and carry away his tears. Even as he shampooed his hair and washed his body, he couldn’t stop himself from crying. Where did all the tears come from? He didn’t know. They welled up time after time even though he shouldn’t have any left.
By the time he stepped out of the shower, the bathroom air was full of steam. He picked one of the towels from the rack and dried himself. At least, he was clean again and didn’t sport a full beard anymore.
No matter how he tried to blow it dry his hair was a mess. It was too long to fall into some kind of style, and after a few minutes, he gave up. The king would have to tolerate it, but he needed to ask Gerome for a hairdresser.
Fresh tears welled up. Damn his crying, but he couldn’t stop. Not for anything. A while ago, he’d been a student, with no big sorrows. Now, he was a prisoner who had to ask for a hairdresser. He’d simply love to walk away, but he couldn’t.
Why not? Why couldn’t he leave? Other than Gerome yelling at him, what would happen if he just left? Luis looked up at his tired reflection in the mirror. He had nothing to lose. Even death at the hands of the king didn’t sound bad anymore.
He’d be at the dinner today, and then, when the time was right, he’d just run. Now that was a plan. Finally. A silver lining. Something to look forward to. Life couldn’t get worse than this.