Hold You Against Me (Stripped 4)

th Giovanni. I’d hoped that meant this marriage was…”—her voice falls to a whisper—“real.”

“He drugged me while I was sleeping. I woke up in the back of a limo.”

Pain washes over her expression, but not surprise. The family is too messed up to be shocked that something like this happens. “Oh my God, Clara. Do you need to get out?”

“Unless you have a small army I don’t know about, you can’t get me out.” And it would be dangerous for her to try, considering how heavily guarded this place is. Her position in the family is already tenuous without a protector. “But if you can get a message to Honor, at least she’ll know I’m alive.”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Of course I will. Tell me how.”

I open my mouth to rattle off her cell phone number, the first number on the tip of my tongue. Except what if someone is looking for Honor, and Juliette tells them how to find her? They were friends, but a lot can change in eight years. Giovanni is living proof of that.

Even if she wanted to remain loyal, she might not have much choice. I have to tread carefully here.

Instead I give her Candy’s phone number. She’ll relay the message to Honor, but it won’t be trackable. And unlike the sweet bungalow my sister and her husband live in, Candy lives in an upscale fortified townhome with 24-7 security guards already in place. As soon as she gets the call, she’ll tell her husband, Ivan, who will lock the place down tighter than Fort Knox.

“Honor doesn’t have a phone,” I lie. I feel a little guilty about that, about not trusting a friend, but I’ve been burned too badly. This place is toxic. The family changes people. We may not be born evil, but we turn that way if we stay.

Juliette types the number into her phone, then tucks it away. “I’ll do it tonight.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, meaning it. I’m still hoping she’s being honest. And this way Honor will know what happened to me. She’ll still worry, but at least she’ll know to protect herself too.

A slight sound makes me jump.

Giovanni turns the corner, his expression severe. Shit. Did he hear me? I scan his eyes, trying to find some hint of what he’s thinking. But he’s like a monolith, dark and forbidding and completely inscrutable. He comes closer. His broad shoulders block the light, and I blink at the contrast.

“Hello, Juliette.” His tone is cordial but the meaning plain. It’s a dismissal.

She gives him a nervous smile, already standing to leave. “Hello. And congratulations.” He nods, but she’s already making her excuses. “I think I should find my mother. But it was great to see you again, Clara.”

Then she’s gone.

Giovanni’s tone doesn’t change as he asks, “What is she doing tonight?”

Shit shit shit. “Something blue,” I blurt out. “For the wedding. Which is tomorrow, by the way. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Something blue?”

“You know, something borrowed, something blue. It’s for good luck.” And this marriage will need all the help it can get. He looks dubious, so I move to distract him. “Take a walk with me?”

He glances into the dark opening of the conservatory. “At night.”

I really don’t need him thinking too hard about what I said to Juliette. “It could be romantic.”

His eyes narrow. “You seem awfully comfortable with the wedding.”

This is the problem with your kidnapper being your first love. He knows me too well. “Of course I’m not comfortable. I’m getting married tomorrow. Against my will. Who would be comfortable with that?” Stop babbling, Clara. “I’m actually really pissed at you.”

My face flames with embarrassment, fear tinged with affection. I used to get this way around him, talking too much because I had a crush. Now I’m talking too much for an entirely different reason. It feels a little bit the same, though. Enough that I head straight to the center of the conservatory where it’s dark and quiet, hoping he doesn’t follow me. I leave my shoes in a sad pile beside the bench, running barefoot.

He does follow me, of course.

I hear his footsteps behind me and speed up.

There are short walls built into the space with ivy and moss grown around them. The air is thick with moisture and sweetness and earth. I breathe it in deeply, take the earth into my body. Being locked up in a room without access to sunlight, to dirt. I’ve always hated it. Always fought it.

And here I am again, grateful for even the taste of freedom.

Chapter Fifteen