Flawless Prize

JULIET

Caleb practically throwsme back in his car, and soon we’re speeding north out of the city. Playful Caleb is gone, instead, his knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and the headlights of oncoming cars illuminates a fearsome determination on his face.

Gas. Could it have been someone trying to hurt us?

To kill us?

I close my eyes, willing myself not to think of the accident again. “Where are we going?”

“I have a cabin upstate, on Lake George. We’ll be safe there.”

Safe. As in, we were unsafe at his place. I can’t get that through my head.

“You really think someone turned the gas on—on purpose?”

He doesn’t say anything, but I already know. If one of Nero’s men could drive me off the road, what’s to stop them from turning Caleb’s place into a powder keg?

“We just need some time to come up with a plan,” he says, trying to reassure me. “I’ll figure it out.”

But how much time? And short of going to police, which Caleb’s firmly against, is there any way out of this?

Caleb’s pushing ninety up the interstate. The roads are slick from an earlier rain. A truck coming in the other direction lays on its air horn. I squeeze my eyes closed even tighter and grip the arm rest.

I hate this.

“Hey,” he says, putting a hand on my knee. I open my eyes again to find him glancing over with a fierce protectiveness in his eyes. “It’s all right. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

The way he says it, his voice never wavering, I almost believe it.

“I mean it, Juliet. Nobody’s hurting you again.”

I exhale. Maybe it’s his force of will, but I let myself be reassured.

As we ride out of the city, the traffic becomes more and more sparse, and eventually, we’re the only ones on the road. He keeps his hand on my knee, steady and comforting, and I must drift off to sleep, because it seems like only a moment later that the car comes to a stop.

I try to force open my eyes, but I’m so tired.

“Shh,” Caleb murmurs. “Go back to sleep.”

I’m dimly aware of the door opening, and a blast of cool air hits me. But then Caleb’s warm body is against mine, lifting me easily into his arms.

I bury my head against his hard chest and melt into him. There’s the creak of steps, the sound of a screen door screeching open and slamming shut. I smell something like pine and earth, mingling with Caleb’s aftershave.

Then he lowers me down into a cloud of pillowy softness, and everything else falls away.

* * *

The next morningI wake to sunshine, dappling on a homemade patchwork quilt.

I sit up, yawning as I look around the room.

I’m in a rustic cabin, decorated in a simple, homey style: knotted wooden walls, old furniture, and a clutter of old books and mementos. When I sit up and look out the window, all I see is green, and the blue sparkle of a lake nearby.

I’m alone.

I pull the quilt off my body and realize that I’m naked underneath. My fancy gown is draped over a chair in the corner, my shoes lined up underneath, so I wrap the quilt around myself and go in search of something to wear.

I step out of the bedroom, curious about this place. All Caleb’s homes so far have been massive, lavish affairs—the Manhattan penthouse, the country mansion—but this is different. It’s a simple, all-wood A-frame house with a small modern kitchen and two-story living area, complete with fieldstone fireplace.