Page 52 of Diamond in the Rough (The Diamond Trilogy 1)
There’s no winning this argument, so I press myself into his arms, curling up like a small child. It’s the middle of the night, and we’re both awake. “Tell me a story.”
“You’re the writer.”
“I know, but I need a distraction from the monsters in my head.”
“Monsters?”
I nudge him. “Tell me something about you. Why did you join the military?”
“Same reason my brothers did, I assume. The only thing I knew how to do when I turned eighteen was fight. That’s the place where you fight.”
“But you got recruited to do the heist. That can’t be normal.”
“No, I was never normal. I scored off the charts on language processing, logical reasoning, spatial acuity, et cetera, et cetera.”
That makes me sit up. “I thought you said the only thing you could do was fight. If your IQ is off the charts, then you can do a lot more than that.”
He shrugs. “I always dumbed down my answers in school so that I would just get As and Bs. If you’re the valedictorian or that shit, they expect more from you. Honor roll and speeches and going to college.”
“What’s wrong with college? I bet you could have gotten a scholarship.”
“To do what? Become an accountant? Put money into a 401K? I never expected to live long enough to need a retirement. Joining the army was something I did to be useful. But no matter what shit they threw at me, I kept surviving.”
“Do you ever think about what you’ll do next?”
“I never thought there’d be a next. I never thought I’d live long enough to have one. If it happens, then I’m probably going to work for my brother.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“Life has very little to do with what I want.”
What a different upbringing he had. So toxic and destructive. It made him feel like he can’t seek happiness. It made him think he wouldn’t even live very long. I wish I could go back and hit his father for doing this to him. I wish I could go back and save his mother. I can’t do anything to change the past, but I have the man here with me in the present. I wrap him in my arms and pull him close. He lets himself be drawn into my embrace.
“Give me one dream,” I murmur. “An impossible dream. Something you want.”
“That’s easy,” he says. “You.”
Confusion mars my brows. “I’m right here, Elijah. I’m here.”
“Don’t argue,” he says, mirroring the words he once told me when we were being held captive under the church. “Don’t fight. Understand? That will only make it worse.”
“You’re not still trapped. You’re not still there.”
“Aren’t I?” he asks, and I shiver in the cool night air.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Elijah
The safe house consists of three stories. The bottom one contains the traditional servants’ quarters, and it’s only accessible from the back of the house. The middle level is where the common areas are—the living room, the dining room, and a modest library. Modest in terms of size. It has original and signed editions from Balzac and Proust.
The top level has the bedroom. Bedroom, singular.
The entire place is designed for a single person or couple to use.
Unlike many of the flats in Paris, there’s no balcony. Presumably that made this place useful as a safe house. There’s also bulletproof glass and lead-filled walls to block signals passing through. Those things are easily disguised. As far as Holly knows, this house has an upgraded security system, but it’s otherwise normal.
The next morning I find her standing at the window, drinking a cup of espresso as she watches the Eiffel Tower. Her face is more slender than it was when she was young, more haunted.
Especially after her time in captivity.
I should be returning her to her regular life.
She could be on a plane to the United States with a security contingent from my brother’s company. So why isn’t she? The thought of being separated from her feels like a grate running across my internal organs. I’m not sure what to call my feelings for her—obsession?
Being held in that church changed the internal makeup of my cells.
In a way, Adam succeeded in his goal.
He wanted to bring us closer together so that I would share the location of the diamonds. Or barring that, use her as bait for her sister. He did manage to fuse me to her in an elemental way, but I’ll be damned if I let her be used as bait.
She turns when she sees me and smiles. My heart clenches.
How long will she continue to smile at me? She won’t be pleased to see me anymore when she knows I’m keeping her against her will.
“I’ve been thinking,” she says, planting a kiss on my lips, “about my last message from London.”
I keep my voice even, not showing how important this is. “Oh yeah?”
