Page 142 of Yours to Keep
Defiant, even now.
He notices and steps closer. He kisses my cheek gently, and revulsion twists in my stomach, his touch feeling like a stain I can never wash off.
“You made the right choice, sweetheart.”
His smile is gentle, almost loving, but I know better than to trust it.
“When we get home, we’ll work on that attitude of yours.”
He steps closer, lowering his voice. “And if you don’t learn…” He shrugs slightly. “Well, sweetheart, you already know what happens when you disappoint me.”
My blood runs cold.
Because Adrian never has to say the words. I already understand. Adrian can take everything from me.
If I don’t bow to him, he won’t let me live.
And there is one thing I am certain of:
I will never bow to him.
35
Eli
The drive feels endless.
Every mile drags me closer to a place I spent years trying to forget. Or maybe it feels endless because Finn still hasn’t woken up.
I sit in the back seat with Finn slumped against the door beside me. Adrian finally moved my restraints to the front, a small, calculated kindness he still makes sure I acknowledge. My wrists throb as blood slowly returns to my fingers. The pins and needles fade, but the pain remains. Every nerve feels raw and awake.
I look at Finn. His breathing is shallow, uneven. Every few seconds, my eyes drift to his chest, tracking the rise and fall, needing the reassurance that he is still here. Still with me.
Adrian sits in the front seat, calm and relaxed, like this is nothing more than a normal drive home. Like kidnapping someone is just another routine task.
I stare out the window as the dark forest rushes past. Snow-covered hills dissolve into night, broken only by distant lights that remind me civilization still exists somewhere out there.
Adrian follows my gaze in the rearview mirror.
“They won’t find you,” he says.
I don’t answer.
“They don’t even know where to start.”
Still nothing. I feel him watching me, waiting for a reaction that doesn’t come.
The silence irritates him. Good. Let it.
I spent years filling his silences, years trying to make him happy, years apologizing for things I didn’t break and fixing things that were never mine to fix. Not anymore.
His hand settles on my knee, and my head snaps toward him before I can stop it. I force myself to look away.
A sigh leaves him. “Look at me.”
I don’t move.
His fingers tighten. “Look at me, Elijah.”
