Hero

13 Cataline

Norman sets a tray table next to me, but my eyes remain focused out the window.

“You should eat your breakfast,” he says.

“I will.”

“All right, dear. I’ll be back to check on you soon.”

Staring past the lawn at the thicket of trees, I wonder what I’d do if I ever made it there. How dense is it? How far does it span? Is that even what I want? I blink after what feels like minutes. Of course it’s what I want. To escape this hell, made even worse now I’ve met the devil. I’m ashamed for all the days and nights I ever fantasized about Calvin. All the times I defended him to myself.

He’s not mean.

He isn’t cruel.

He’s just private.

Under his cool exterior, he’s a good man who needs patience, understanding, and love, just like anyone else. If I had him in my clutches, I would peel away those layers until I’d exposed the beauty of him.

How could I have been so wrong?

The reality of my situation roils through me, settling in my gut: Calvin Parish is dangerous. And now that I know the truth about him, how can he ever let me go?

Heat creeps up my neck as I relive the crush of Calvin’s hard body on mine. The pressure of him between my legs, begging to enter. I get mild comfort from the fact that in the end, he respected my request to stop.

“You’re not going to fly away, are you?” I hear.

Calvin’s voice is smooth and deep, but he startles me just the same. I wait for my heartbeat to calm before turning to face him. “And if I did?”

His arms cross over his chest, punctuating his rigid posture. “Have you got hidden wings underneath that robe, Little Sparrow?”

“I might be willing to find out.”

His eyes narrow. “What does that mean?”

With a heavy sigh, I deflate deeper against the wall. “Nothing.”

“About last night,” he says. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I assure you it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t?” I ask.

“No.”

“Does that mean I can go?”

“I’m sorry?”

My thoughts scatter. “Isn’t that . . . ,” I start. “Why else would you . . . ?”

Silence follows, long and strained. His eyes drill into me without giving anything away.

“Then why am I here?”

“I’ve warned you about questions.”

“But what else could it be? I thought—”

“You are purposely trying my patience. Do you want to see what happens if you push me too far?”

His words leave a coat of goose bumps on my skin. I’m beginning to understand what he’s capable of physically, but it’s not knowing what’s underneath his exterior that scares me most.

“I have to return to the office. It’s important for us both that I maintain my routine. I recommend you eat,” he says, gesturing to the tray, “seeing as how you’ve slept until noon.”

“The office,” I mutter. “What do they say about my absence?”

He clears his throat and turns his face to the bed, his eyes resting on my mussed up sheets.

I can only laugh. “They haven’t noticed, have they? Hale probably replaced me right away. Such is my life, coming and going without anybody noticing.”

“That’s not true,” he says with surprising tenderness.

“You don’t know anything about me, so fuck off.”

I brace myself for a reaction. As seconds tick by, his impassive expression has me growing regretful of my comment. His eyebrows rise. “You ought to be careful, Cataline. Mouthing off can get you into trouble.”

Any regret vanishes. “More trouble than I’m already in?” I ask. “I’ve been kidnapped to fulfill some pervert’s sick fantasy. And since I know who you are, where you work, and where you live, I suppose you’ll have to kill me at the end of all this. So perhaps we move things along, and you make me do whatever it is I’m here for so I can have some relief from this hell.”

“As I just said, I won’t touch you again. Even,” he pauses to ensure my attention, “if you beg for it.” He takes a step forward, and I push back against the window frame. His large hand wraps gently around my throat until I’m covered with him. “And like a little sparrow, it would take nothing to snap your neck. I assure you, if that’s what I wanted, it would be done.”

He removes his hand, but I still feel his cold touch there. “I want to go home,” I say through a quivering chin.

With him so close, the shift in his demeanor is obvious. “Look around,” he snaps. “I’ve stocked the kitchen with your favorite foods, filled the library with books you love, and bestowed on you a closet any woman would die for. I’ve instructed everyone be at your beck and call.” His voice rises, falling heavily over me from above. “What is it you want? What more can I do?”

“I want my freedom.”

“Why, so you can go back to that shit apartment on Breaker Street and work for some ungrateful asshole at a job you don’t even want?”

I draw my knees against my chest, pulling my heels tight so as not to expose myself. “How do you know where I live?” I whisper. “Or what books I like?”

He scowls before storming away. When he reaches the door, he twists to look back at me. His voice is as intense and mesmerizing as his stare. “This isn’t hell; hell is what I rescued you from. I’ll have no more sulking, no more sneaking around. Am I understood?”

I agree with a mindless nod.

“Answer me,” he clips. “If I catch you doing either, you will be punished. Do we have an understanding?”

I don’t consider my options because it’s becoming clear I have none. So I can only answer, “Yes, I understand.”