“I know.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“I know that too.”
“Then why didn’t you?”Her voice rises, desperate now.“Why not tell me the truth from the start?”
“Because I was scared,” I say.“Scared you’d run.Scared I’d lose you before I ever had the chance to know you.”
Silence.
She’s breathing hard.I can smell her fear.Her fury.But I also feel something else.The bond.It’s faint and shaky, but it's still there.
“I need air,” she says, standing.Her knees wobble.
I rise with her.“You can step outside.The courtyard is secure.I’ll stay back and give you space.”
She nods once, too numb to argue.She walks out the door, barefoot and unsteady, and I let her go.But I don’t stop watching.Because I told her the truth.
And now, everything depends on what she does next.
Chapter Nine
Harlow
Safe Isn’t Freedom
There’s a lush fieldbeyond the concrete patio, large enough for an Olympic-sized pool.The lawn is bordered by towering trees and forest foliage so cleanly cut away it almost doesn’t look natural, and in the dark of whatever late-night hour it is, most people would probably miss the actual privacy wall and portion of black iron gate that’s visible from my angle.But I don’t.
The sight of the dual barricades only drives home the terror clamping hard inside my chest.
My head still feels a little woozy, probably from where my stupid ankle inevitably gave out, and I kissed the dirt during my panicked run.So a lot of what happened after seems jumbled.I can’t straighten out the things I heard and the order of events with absolute certainty, other than that I was rescued by a fierce and wildly stunning redhead I don’t know.Then, brought by what felt like a miracle, to Mateo.
He lied to me.
He told me I was safe.He told me I was free to leave.Then he told me I was trapped.