I glared at him, then decided it wasn’t worth the effort to argue. All he’d done was confirm what I already suspected… Catherine Deboise was a fucking psychopath.
“This is your room,” she said, acting like the confrontation in the car hadn’t even happened. “I’m heading out right after this for a business meeting. You will stay in here until I get back, and then we will go over the rules.”
I didn’t even bother to acknowledge her. I’d already decided that whatever she told me to do, I was going to do the opposite. I might not have much power against someone with Deboise banking money, but I’d take what I could. She’d made a big mistake thinking she could just pick me up and drop me back in her life again, and now that I had met her it was making even less sense that she had.
She turned away from the door, and I had to ask: “Why?”
She didn’t pretend not to understand. “Because I have need of you now. I didn’t when you were born.”
Then she strode off, the heels clicking on the shiny wood floor.
I blinked after her, trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about. Had need of me? Need for what?
Panic and pain swirled inside of me again, and I had to steady myself against the door frame. From the outside it no doubt looked like I’d hit the jackpot: mega-rich birth parents bringing me back into their lives. Their sort of money was beyond anything I’d ever known. From my first step onto the marble floors of the Deboise mansion, I knew I was so far out of my element it wasn’t funny. I grew up in a loving, but very poor, home. We had never had a single extra, but we got by. That was how I’d met Dante. He’d been my neighbor growing up, until he graduated to his own pretty impressive condo. I’d never asked him how he afforded it, and he never dragged me into whatever he was low-key running for the local gangs.
Yeah, I’d lied to Catherine earlier. I knew my friend wasn’t completely innocent, but from our neighborhood, very few were. I didn’t care. Loyalty meant a lot to me, and I would have Dante’s back for the rest of my life.
My room held no interest to me. Despite the fact it was huge, more like a mini-suite than a bedroom, I mostly hated everything about it. The bed was white, the walls were white, the rug was black, and there was a fireplace. I also had a black leather couch and what looked like an impressive black and white bathroom through an open door across the room.
Everything was clean, sterile, and ultra-modern. It all just screamed of that cold bitch. I fought against the urge to go across and mess the perfectly fitted blankets on the bed. Because this place was giving me the creeps.
I’d moved further inside when a knock sounded from behind, and I turned to find yet another man standing there. It was not the driver, though, this man was in his late-fifties, with a thick head of gray hair.
“Good evening, Miss Deboise,” he said politely. “I’m Stewart, and I’m head of staff here at Deboise Estate. If you require anything, simply ring that little buzzer.” He pointed toward a black and gold button near the side of the bed. “And someone will be straight by.”
I nodded, and he turned to leave when I called out, “Where is all of my stuff? The lady at child services said they packed up the things from my home.” I near choked on that word, because the pain at knowing I’d never go back to that crappy little house was too much for me to handle. I’d take it over this cold mansion any day.
Stewart slowly turned, his face expressionless, although it did seem there was a slight softening of the lines around his eyes when he replied, “Mistress informed me that you had everything you needed in your room. We don’t have any other belongings for you.”
I stumbled back, and he reached out as if to grab me, but I waved him away before he could. “She didn’t bring any of my things?” I seethed. That fucking bitch.
As if it was poor Stewart’s fault, I glared at him and he just gave me a polite nod before backing up and closing my door as he left. Yeah, I’d bet that I wasn’t scary when he was used to working for the bitch of Upstate New York.
Fury burned and swirled in my gut, and since I generally wasn’t someone that held onto anger, I knew I needed to do something to blow off steam. My life had been ripped apart in the last ten days, I’d lost everything, and now … this was a bad situation. I knew it. I could feel it deep down. It was all too much for me to process—I needed a car. I needed to race and forget everything in my current shitty life. I’d been given no car privileges though.
In fact, I didn’t have a phone or any way of actually reaching the outside world. I was a veritable prisoner right now…
Except…
I didn’t have to be. What was stopping me from sneaking out of this house and taking my chances in the big wide world? I mean, Dante would help me, I was sure of it. He was probably going out of his mind with worry right now knowing that I’d just disappeared from the hospital never to be seen again.
A plan was already forming, but I knew it would be safest at dark. The expensive looking gold clock on the wall told me it was almost 4:00 p.m., which meant I had at least another hour before it was dark enough.
With nothing else to do, I explored my very temporary room. The bathroom was exactly as I thought, sleek and expensive, with the most tempting looking deep tub. Not quite tempting enough to put up with Mrs. Debitch though. A large room joined the main bedroom, and it was filled with clothes and shoes and makeup and … it was basically a mini-mall with every conceivable item a rich young chick would need. My mouth watered when I realized that there was a wall of shoes, and more than one pair of black heels with the red soles. I reached out and lifted one up, finding some swirly signature on it starting with an L. I had no idea what this brand was, but I was starting to see I had at least one thing in common with my birth mother. We were hooked on shiny black heels.
With reluctance, I placed it back on the shelf. I wouldn’t be taking anything from here with me.
The time ticked away at an agonizingly slow pace, but I had one shot at this. If she caught me, I would be under twenty-four hour security, I had no doubt. She wouldn’t have gone to all of this trouble to get me back, unless she really did “have need of me.”
When it finally got dark enough, I eased open the bedroom door and snuck a quick look to make sure no one was around. Normally I would have gone out the window, but with a broken arm, I couldn’t climb. My heart beat rapidly as I crept along the hall and down the stairs. There was a huge double staircase, which led to the impressive entrance to this house. Crystal chandeliers twinkled above, cascading lights across the marble.
I didn’t see anyone around, and was relieved when I managed to get outside and into the darkness without incident. From what I remembered, the front drive was long, which meant I was not safe until I was off Deboise land. Pausing, I realized that anyone this rich would have security. They were probably patrolling the perimeter right now, and I wondered if they shot trespassers.
I almost hesitated then, but I’d come this far, so I stopped thinking and started running.
Holding my broken arm against me, my legs pounded the pavement, and I veered off so I was away from the lights lining the main drive. The grass was thick and soft, and my pace picked up. My body still hurt. My head ached on and off, as it had done since I woke up, and no doubt this sort of sprinting was not recommended by my doctor when recovering from a car accident, but I didn’t care.
I needed out.
The Deboise estate was fucking huge, of course, but I still managed to make it to the imposing fences in under ten minutes. Speed had always been my thing; running and cars anyway … not so much the drug. The fence was my next obstacle, because it was three times my height, and had thick bars lining it. There was a symbol etched in the middle of each bar, on a round plaque. Something that looked like an M and a D, possibly, but it was hard to tell in this low light. I was guessing the D was for Deboise, and the M … mansion. Who knew what pretentious bullshit she was representing here?
Moving along the fence line, I stayed behind the hedges which lined it. I was close to the gates we’d entered through, and I wondered if they were on a sensor. There would have to be a code, I was sure of it. While I was trying to figure out what to do, a set of headlights turned into the fence, and I dropped to the ground, holding my breath. Fuck fuck fuck. The bitch was back.
3
The car paused for a brief moment at the gates while they silently slid open. Once my panic faded, I realized that this was my best chance of getting out of here. I pulled myself up while still staying out of sight. I’d have to time it perfectly, but I knew I could do it. I had to do it.
The thrum of an expensive car echoed past me as she accelerated, and I waited until the gates were just starting to close again before I pushed off hard from the ground and pumped my legs. My cast hit the side of the gate when I dived through, and I bit back the cry, trying my best to shake off the pain. It was worth it though, because I was on the outside, exactly where I wanted to be. Well, sort of. I remembered another set of gates at the start of this section of exclusive estates, but I was sure I’d manage to get past them too.
The second set had guards on them, but they were definitely more interested in who was coming in, rather than who was going out. I snuck through at the same time a black Bugatti Veyron rumbled out. Holy fuck.
My legs didn’t want to move, I just wanted to stare at the perfection of that fine ass piece of machinery. But there was no time for me to drool over my unicorn car. I had to get the hell out of Dodge.
As soon as I was a short distance from the guards, I started to relax. Right up until another set of headlights flared to life right before me. My muscles tensed, prepared to run, when a figure stepped out from the driver’s side and headed toward me. With the lights blinding me, it took me a few minutes to figure out who it was, and then I was running. Right into his arms.
“Dante!” I whisper-yelled. When his arms wrapped around me, I sank into the warmth and comfort. “How the hell did you find me?” I asked, pulling back from him.