Hold Me

Chapter 12

12

Nora

“Did you see the girl who was brought here this morning?” Rosa asks during our usual walk. “Ana said she was handcuffed and everything.”

“What?” I give Rosa a startled look. “What girl? I went for a quick run before breakfast, and I didn’t see anything.”

“I didn’t see anything either. Ana told me she spotted her, and she’s really blond and beautiful. Apparently, Lucas Kent is keeping her in his quarters.” Rosa is clearly relishing imparting this bit of gossip. “Ana thinks she might’ve betrayed Señor Esguerra in some way.”

“Really?” I frown. “I don’t know anything about any of this. Julian didn’t mention it to me.” In general, since I hacked into Julian’s computer, he’s been telling me less about his business. I don’t know if that’s because he now distrusts me or because he’s trying to keep me as calm as possible in light of the pregnancy. I suspect it’s the latter, given how overprotective he is these days.

“Do you want to walk by Kent’s house to see?” Rosa’s eyes glitter with excitement. “Maybe we can peek in his window.”

I gape at her. “Rosa!” This is the last thing I would’ve expected from her. “We can’t do that.”

“Come on,” my friend cajoles. “It’ll be fun. Don’t you want to see who this blond girl is and why Kent’s got her?”

“I can just ask Julian about it. He’ll tell me.”

Rosa gives me a pleading look. “Yes, but I might die of curiosity before he does. I just want to see what Kent’s doing with her, that’s all.”

“Why?” I have no desire to see Julian’s right-hand man torture some unfortunate woman, and I have no idea why Rosa wants to witness something so disturbing. “If she betrayed Julian, it won’t be pretty.” My stomach lurches at the thought. Today is not one of my better days, nausea-wise.

Rosa flushes. “Just because. Come on, Nora.” Grabbing my wrist, she begins to tug me in the direction of the guards’ quarters. “Let’s just go over there. You’re pregnant, so no one will get mad at you for snooping.”

I let myself get towed behind her, flabbergasted by her inexplicable desire to play spy. Normally, Rosa displays little interest in matters concerning my husband’s criminal activities. I can’t fathom what’s behind her unusual behavior, unless…

“Are you interested in Lucas?” I blurt out, stopping and bringing us both to a halt. “Is that what this is all about?”

“What? No!” Rosa’s voice takes on a higher pitch. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”

I stare at her, noting the brighter blush staining her cheeks. “Oh my God, you are interested.”

Rosa huffs and lets go of my wrist, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not.”

I hold up my palms in a conciliatory gesture. “Okay, okay. If you say so.”

Rosa glares at me for a moment, but then her shoulders slump and her arms drop to her sides. “Okay, fine,” she says glumly. “So maybe I do find him attractive. Just a little bit, okay?”

“Okay, of course,” I say with a reassuring smile. With his blond hair and fierce, square-jawed face, Lucas Kent reminds me of a Viking warrior—or at least Hollywood’s depiction of one. “He’s a good-looking man.”

Rosa nods. “He is. He doesn’t know that I exist, of course, but that’s to be expected.”

“What do you mean?” I frown at her. “Have you ever tried talking to him?”

“Talking about what? I’m just the maid who cleans the main house and occasionally brings the guards some treats from Ana.”

“You can ask him what his favorite food is,” I suggest. “Or how his day went. It doesn’t have to be anything complicated. Just a simple hello would probably put you on his radar.” As I say this, I realize that being on the radar of a man like Lucas Kent may not be the best thing for Rosa—or any woman, really.

Before I can take back my suggestion, Rosa sighs and says, “I’ve said hello to him before. I just don’t think he sees me, Nora. Not like that. And why would he? I mean, look at me.” She gestures derisively toward herself.

“What are you talking about?” I still don’t think getting Lucas’s attention would be a positive development in Rosa’s life, but I can’t let that comment slide. “You’re very attractive.”

“Oh, please.” Rosa gives me an incredulous look. “I’m average at best. Someone like Kent is used to supermodels—like that blond girl he’s got with him now. I’m not his type.”

“Well, if you’re not his type, then he’s a fool,” I say firmly, and mean it. With her pleasantly round face, warm brown eyes, and bright smile, Rosa is quite pretty. She also has the kind of figure I’ve always envied: lush and curvy, with a nipped-in waist and full breasts. “You’re a beautiful girl—a guy would have to be blind not to see that.”

She snorts. “Right. That’s why my love life is so great.”

“Your love life is limited by the borders of this estate,” I remind her. “Besides, didn’t you tell me you dated a couple of the guards?”

“Oh, sure.” She waves her hand dismissively. “Eduardo and Nick—but that doesn’t mean anything. Guards are limited in their selection too, and they’re not that picky. They’ll f**k anything that moves.”

“Rosa.” I give her a reproving look. “Now you’re just exaggerating.”

She grins. “Okay, maybe. I should probably say ‘anything female that moves’—though I hear Dr. Goldberg gets some action, too. Rumor has it tattooed guys are his fave.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

I shake my head, involuntarily grinning back, and we both burst into laughter at the image of the staid doctor getting it on with one of the big, tatted-up guards.

“Okay, now that we’ve established you’re crushing on Mr. Blond and Dangerous,” I say a couple of minutes later when we stop laughing and resume walking toward the guards’ housing, “can you please tell me again why you want to spy on him with this chick?”

“I don’t know,” Rosa admits. “I just do. It’s sick, I know, but I just want to see what he’s like with another woman.”

“Rosa…” I still don’t get it. “If she arrived here in handcuffs, they’re not exactly having a romantic date. You know that, right?”

“Yes, of course.” She sounds remarkably flippant. “He’s probably doing something horrible to her.”

“And you want to see that why?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m hoping that seeing him like that will help me get over this silly crush. Or maybe I’m just morbidly curious. Does it really matter?”

“No, I guess not.” I hurry to keep up with her fast stride. “But I can tell you right now that Dr. Wessex would have a lot of fun with you.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she says and grins at me again. “It’s a good thing you’re the one in therapy then, isn’t it?”

The guards’ barracks are on the very edge of the compound, right next to the jungle. Mixed in with the cluster of small, boxy buildings are a few regular-sized houses. From my earlier explorations, I know that they’re occupied by some of the higher-ranked employees in Julian’s organization and guards who have families.

As we approach, Rosa makes a beeline for one of those larger homes, and I follow her, half-running to keep up. My stomach is beginning to feel unsettled, and I’m already regretting that I gave in to this insanity.

“This is it,” she says in a hushed tone as we go around the side of the house. “His bedroom is here.”

“And you know this how?”

She grins at me. “I might’ve been out here a time or two before.”

“Rosa…” I’m discovering a whole new side to my friend. “You’ve spied on the poor man before?”

“Just once or twice,” she whispers, crouching under a window as I hang back a few feet and observe. “Now, shhh.” She presses her finger to her lips in a silencing gesture.

I lean against a tree trunk, cross my arms, and watch as she slowly rises and peeks into the window. I’m astounded that she’s bold enough to do this in broad daylight. Even though this side of Lucas’s house faces the forest, there are plenty of guards in the area, and they could theoretically spot us hanging around.

Before I can voice that concern to Rosa, she turns toward me with a disappointed look on her face. “They’re not there,” she says in a low voice. “I wonder where they could be.”

“Maybe he took her elsewhere,” I say, relieved by this development. “Let’s go.”

“Hold on, let me just check something.” Still crouching, she moves toward a window further to the left.

I reluctantly trail after her, increasingly nauseous and uncomfortable with the situation. Another minute, I promise myself, and I’ll head back.

Just as I’m about to tell her that I’m leaving, Rosa lets out a soft gasp and waves for me to come closer. “There,” she says in an excited whisper, pointing at the window. “He’s got her right there.”

Now my own curiosity kicks in. Bending down, I make my way to where Rosa is hiding and crouch next to her. “What is he doing?” I whisper, almost afraid to know.

“I don’t know,” she whispers back, turning to look at me. “He’s not in the room. She’s alone there.”

“What is she doing then?”

“See for yourself. She’s not looking this way.”

I hesitate for a moment, but the temptation proves to be too much. Holding my breath, I rise just enough to see over the lower rim of the window, barely cognizant of Rosa peeking in next to me.

As I feared, the view inside makes my stomach flip.

The room I’m looking at is large and sparsely furnished. Judging by the black leather sofa near the wall and the TV on the opposite side, it must be Lucas’s living room. The walls are painted white, and the carpet is gray. It’s a starkly masculine room, functional and uncompromising, but it’s not the decor that catches my attention.

It’s the young woman in the middle.

Completely naked, she’s tied to a sturdy wooden chair, her feet spread apart and her hands bound behind her back. Her head is lowered, her tangled blond hair concealing her face and much of her upper body. All I can see of her are narrow feet and long pale limbs covered with bruises.

Limbs that appear far too thin for a girl of her height.

As I stare in horrified fascination, she lifts her head in a sudden jerky movement and looks directly at me, her blue eyes sharp and clear in her delicately featured face.

I instantly duck, my pulse racing from a burst of adrenaline. Rosa, however, is still looking in the window, her expression that of avid curiosity.

“Rosa,” I hiss, grabbing her arm. “She saw us. Let’s go.”

“Okay, okay,” my friend concedes, letting me tug her away. “Let’s go.”

We head back toward our usual path in silence. Rosa appears to be deep in thought, and I can’t bring myself to speak, my nausea intensifying with every step. As we pass by a set of rose bushes, I kneel down and throw up while Rosa holds my hair and repeatedly apologizes for causing me distress in my condition.

I wave her apologies away, shakily getting back on my feet. What disturbs me the most is not the fact that I saw a woman bound and likely about to be tortured.

It’s that the sight didn’t shock me as it should have.

Julian doesn’t join me for dinner that night. According to Ana, he has an emergency call with one of his Hong Kong associates. I consider going to his office to listen in, but decide to use the time to call my parents instead.

“Nora, honey, when are we going to see you again?” my mom asks for the dozenth time after I give her a quick update on my classes. My dad is traveling for business, so it’s just the two of us on video chat today. “I miss you so much.”

“I know, Mom. I miss you too.” I bite the inside of my cheek, my eyes suddenly burning with tears. f*****g pregnancy hormones. “I told you, Julian said we’ll be able to come at some point soon.”

“When?” my mom asks in frustration. “Why can’t you just give us a date?”

Because I’m pregnant, and my overprotective kidnapper/husband refuses to even talk about going anywhere right now. “Mom…” I take a breath, trying to gather my courage. “I think there’s something you should know.”

My mom leans closer to the camera, instant worry creasing her forehead. “What is it, honey?”

“I’m eight weeks pregnant. Julian and I are having a baby.” As soon as the words are out, I feel like a slab of granite was lifted off my shoulders. I hadn’t realized until this moment how heavily this secret weighed on me.

My mom blinks. “What? Already?”

“Um, yeah.” This is not the reaction I was expecting. Frowning, I lean closer to the camera. “What do you mean, already?”

“Well, your dad and I figured that with the two of you being married and all…” She shrugs. “I mean, we were hoping it wouldn’t happen for a while, and you’d get to finish school first—”

“You figured I’d have children with Julian?” I feel like I’m in an alternate universe. “And you’re okay with that?”

My mom sighs and leans back, regarding me with a weary expression. “Of course we’re not okay with that. But we can’t live our lives in denial, no matter how much your dad might want to try. Obviously, this is not what we wanted for you, but—” She stops and heaves another sigh before saying, “Look, honey, if this is what you want, if he really does make you as happy as you say, then it’s not our place to interfere. We just want you happy and healthy. You know that, right?”

“I do, Mom.” I blink rapidly, trying to contain a fresh influx of emotional tears. “I do.”

“Good.” She smiles, and I’m pretty sure I see her eyes glistening with tears of her own. “Now tell me all about it. Have you been sick? Have you been tired? How did you find out? Was it an accident?”

And for the next hour, my mom and I talk about babies and pregnancy. She tells me all about her own experience—I was an oops baby for her and Dad, conceived during their honeymoon—and I explain that I hurt my arm when I was abducted by the terrorists and had to have the implant out for a short time. It’s the closest I can come to the truth: that Al-Quadar cut the implant out of my arm because they mistook it for a tracking device. My parents know about my abduction from the mall—I had to explain my disappearance to them somehow—but I didn’t tell them the full story.

They have no idea that their daughter acted as bait to save her abductor’s life and killed a man in cold blood.

By the time we finally wrap up our conversation, it’s dark outside, and I’m beginning to feel tired. As soon as we disconnect, I shower, brush my teeth, and get in bed to wait for Julian.

After a while, my eyelids grow heavy, and I feel the lethargy of sleep stealing over me. As my mind begins to drift, an image appears in front of my eyes: that of a girl bound and helpless, tied to a chair in the middle of a large, white-walled room. Her hair, however, is not blond.

It’s dark… and her belly is swollen with child.