She lifted her head and watched me. “Like soulmates or twin flames?”
“Yes. The string connects the two humans that are fated to be together. No matter how far away from each other. No matter what race, class, or age.” I ran my fingers through her moist hair. “I’ve always loved the idea of that. And thus. . .I’ve always searched for the person who is on the other end of my red string. To not forget, I keep a red string around my wrist.”
“That’s so beautiful.”
“You’re the first woman to ever ask about it.”
“It intrigued me.”
“Or you know that you’re on the other end of my string.”
“I don’t.”
“But I do. I swore it warmed a little tonight.”
She smiled. “That didn’t happen.”
“It’s true. Besides, the legend proclaims that nothing happens by accident. The strings can tangle and be stretched, but the bond never breaks.”
She lay back on my chest. “That’s more romantic than soulmates.”
“Why?”
“I love that the connection is always there.”
“Me too.”
Silence took over as we cuddled within the warm blanket.
Soon, soft snores left Layla.
This is probably the most peaceful sleep she’s gotten since her sister ran off.
Slowly falling asleep myself, I relished in the softness of her body.
This is perfect.
Unfortunately, my phone rang on the nightstand.
Damn it.
I’d left it there earlier this evening when I went out to greet Layla on the roof.
The phone rang again.
Sighing, I moved my arm and did my best not to wake Layla.
What the hell is wrong?
I picked up the phone and answered, “Before speaking, ask yourself, if this truly is an emergency.”
Ali’s voice sounded nervous. “It is, sir.”
I shut my eyes. “Go ahead.”
“Footman escaped.”
Terror hit me. I opened my eyes. “How?”
“The shackles and handcuffs are still on the floor and attached to chains. The trap door is up. I don’t know—”
“He must’ve dislocated his thumbs and ankles. When did you notice his disappearance?”
“Five minutes ago.”
“I’m coming.” I gently rolled Layla over and slid out of bed.
“Okay, sir.”
“Get several guards up here to watch Layla. He wouldn’t have left the property yet. It would take time for him to recover from the dislocation. He’ll be limping and wet.”
10
Pretty Feet
Layla
R
eo’s heavy breathing woke me.
Then, he tickled my toe.
Keeping my eyes closed, I giggled and yanked my foot away.
He tickled it again.
Yawning, I moved my foot to the side. “Are you going to let me sleep?”
A dark, scratchy voice sounded. “Where’s the fun in that?”
That’s. Not. Reo.
I snapped my eyes open and looked at my feet.
Terror rose in me.
The man from Mr. Meade’s party was crouched on the floor.
“Have you ever swam with rats? It’s refreshing.” Water dripped down his bruised face. He wore a delirious smile. His nose was an inch from my toe. He inhaled. “You really have pretty feet.”
Fast, I sat up in bed and scooted back. My body shook in fear. I’d just woken up and was trying to regain complete consciousness. I was naked, scared, and confused. “How did you get in here?”
He gestured to the large painting across the wall that was opened. “There’s a tunnel that’s connected—”
“I-I don’t know what you want, but—”
“Your feet are much prettier than mine.” He raised his foot in the air.
All five of his toes on the foot were chopped off. He flashed me a horrid grin. Black gunk coated his gums and teeth.
Screams burned from my throat.
I pushed off of the bed.
He jumped up and screamed too.
I edged back.
Then, he laughed. “Have you ever tasted your own flesh?”
I rushed and grabbed the lamp. The plug was still in the wall. I yanked it away. “Get back!”
He bared his nasty teeth.
Banging came from the door.
I looked that way.
A dresser had been pushed in front of it. Men were shoving and trying to get inside the room.
The man charged for me.
No.
I slung the lamp at him. The glass crashed into his raised arm. I seized that moment and leapt on the bed, racing over it. Right as I began to jump off, he caught my foot. I crashed to the floor. My chest ached. I screamed and kicked.
“Shut up, bitch!” He tightened his grip on my ankle and dragged me to him.
I dug my fingers into the carpet, but it was no use. I couldn’t get a grip. He yanked me to him. My skin burned from the drag.
“You should have given me that private dance.” He flipped me around. “I’m here because of you.”
I kicked and fought.
He slapped me.
I didn’t let that stop my battle.
He jumped on top of me. His breath was putrid. Dark spit dripped from the corners of his mouth. “I may never get to hurt him, but at least I will have time to hurt you.”
I scratched at his face.
Laughing, he held my hands down. “I’m going to carve you up so good that you’ll be his nightmare. He may kill himself after the sight.”