Entrapment by Aleatha Romig
He kissed my cheek. “Good girl.”
Once we were both back inside, Bryce went back to where he’d been sitting. Leaning back, he said, “Cyrus and I could use more Cognac. Why don’t you get that for us, darling?”
Patrick’s jaw clenched. “Let me help you.”
Swallowing… biting the inside of my lip… I was doing anything to keep from giving into the tears bubbling just under the surface.
“The road… tomorrow?” Pat whispered.
I blinked the renegade tear away.
“Your mom will be okay,” he spoke near my ear. “They have it worked out.”
He stood with his back to the others and mouthed, “Do it.”
“Yes.” It was all I could say before stepping around him and carrying the decanter of Cognac to Cyrus and Bryce.
“IF YOU DON’T kill him, I will,” Pat said.
I paced back and forth in my hotel suite, holding my phone in a death grip. “You saw her again?”
“Yes. Cy and I went to the manor. We saw and talked to her, if you can call it that.”
“What do you mean, ‘if you can call it that’?”
“The ass was omnipresent. I even refused to leave until Alex retired to her room. I made lame excuses every time asshole hinted that we should go. Once she excused herself—she’d made plans with Jane for a movie night—then I wouldn’t leave until Spence’s car was pulled up.”
I shook my head and walked again to the window and back. I’d wear a damn hole in this carpeting if I didn’t get out of here soon. Storm the fucking castle—that’s what I wanted to do. That’s what my gut, or was it my heart, wanted me to do.
Hell, six months ago the damn thing had been a black hole in my chest, hard and uncaring. Charli had done this to me, made me feel, made me love, and now she was breaking my heart. It was breaking, thinking of her with him. “Fuck!” I said. “Twenty-four hours. She just needs to make it one more day.”
Patrick sighed. “At least we got her through the night. I don’t know what happened between this afternoon and now, but something did. She couldn’t say, but I felt it.”
The sky over Savannah had darkened. In the window’s reflection I saw my image… I thought it was me. The bulging vein on my forehead, tendons throbbing in my neck, and clenched jaw were more pronounced than normal. My poor teeth wouldn’t last much longer if I gritted them any tighter. “What do you mean? Do you think they found out about us, about this afternoon?”
Was it this afternoon or yesterday? I searched for a clock. Time didn’t fucking move.
“If Spence knew,” Patrick said, “he didn’t let on, not to me nor Cy. He was all endearments and caresses. Sticky sweet. It was nauseating.”
“I’ll kill him.”
“She… it wasn’t like she enjoyed his attention. I mean she wore the Montague smile, but I know her. She looked… for lack of a better word… scared. Cy and I talked about it. I wish I could give you another assessment, but that’s what I have.”
“Scared? What do you think it is? Do you think that asshole would threaten her?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
The idea made my fingers fist. I’d show that fucker what it felt like to be scared. After all, Charli was the strongest woman I knew. I couldn’t allow the thoughts to linger. If I did, I was hitting something: a wall? A door? I didn’t care.
Patrick went on, “Even at the academy, he had a narcissistic air, but now… with his coronation into the royal Montagues at hand, there’s something else… egotistical arrogance. I get the sense that he’s feeling invincible.”
There would be no quick death for that fucker.
My Charli deserved to be worshiped. The only thing that should ever scare her is one of the books she likes to read or if she’ll make it across town in time for class. Never in her own home, never in her life, should her fear be real.
Patrick and I both knew that Spencer was using Charli for power and social status. What made it worse was that he was doing it with her stepfather’s blessing. She’d been right. He was the devil, and that devil was selling her for his own future.
Now that we had the will, it all made sense. It was the codicil—without Spencer and Charli’s marriage, Alton Fitzgerald could lose everything. It was the information Adelaide had recently learned with Stephen Crawford’s help. After nearly twenty years with that ass, she’d finally found a way out.
Unfortunately, Fitzgerald learned that she knew. According to Oren’s contact at Hamilton and Porter, Ralph Porter contacted Alton Fitzgerald… told him of his wife’s discovery. The attorney was another name on my list. It was growing by the day… by the damn hour.
What happened next was systematic sabotage. Fitzgerald set Adelaide up for failure… the doctor overseeing her medical information found a metals test performed by Adelaide’s primary care doctor nearly two months ago. He’d tested for mercury, arsenic, cadmium, and chromium.
Though the results were negative, what stood out to our physician was that Mrs. Fitzgerald’s doctor was suspicious. She’s ordered a hair follicle test. It shows all drug usage, including alcohol for the last ninety days. Isaac secured the sample a day ago, after visiting his ‘father.’
The results should be available soon. Her hope is to see exactly what drugs were and have been in Adelaide’s system and the amount.
As far as publicly, we all believe that the point of this illness was to deem Adelaide Fitzgerald incompetent. Under the influence of whatever was in her system, her behavior became erratic, her accusations easily dismissed. Eventually the chemicals in her system became too much for her frail body to handle.
It was a desperate play, but Alton Fitzgerald was desperate. He needed both his marriage and Charli’s to Spencer. He needed the initial stipulations of old man Montague’s will to go into effect so that no one would look for the codicil.
If for any reason it was brought to light, the life Alton Fitzgerald had enjoyed would come to a crashing end.
Patrick’s end of the call went quiet. He’d been talking about tomorrow… or today. Where the fuck was a clock? I’d missed something.
“Is Cy good with the plan?” I asked.
“For Alex, he is. He said he’s come out before, he can do it again.”
“Did you see anyone else while you were at the manor?”
“Staff, but Spence dismissed them, happy to have Alex waiting on him.”
“Are you fucking trying to get me to commit murder, because I’m ready?”
“Man, I want you as pissed off as I am.”
“What about Chelsea?” I asked.
“I saw her at the restaurant this afternoon. She looked fine—not happy, but fine. I didn’t see her tonight. Maybe she wasn’t there.”
Maybe it wasn’t midnight yet. Why the hell won’t the clock move?
“Isaac’s been watching,” I said. “According to him, she was taken back to Montague Manor and hasn’t left. He’s been watching the entrance.”
Pat scoffed. “So I didn’t need to let you know that I was there?”
“You didn’t need to, but if you hadn’t called, I would’ve called you.”
“I assured Alex that you had it worked out to get her mother. Tell me that I didn’t lie to her.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t. It’s planned for during the party. We don’t want to set off any alarms before. Once the guests begin to arrive, things will get chaotic. That’s to our advantage.”
“Are you personally getting her?”
“No. My father has that honor.”
“Your father?” Pat asked. “I guess that’s what families do.”
It was my turn to scoff. “Well, that’s not far off, but it’s complicated. Apparently, Oren and Adelaide have met. He wants to help.”
“Alex has a full corner of support. Looking at her tonight, I think she may have forgotten that. Man, she’s hurting.”
“What the fuck!” My growl resonated through the suite.
“She let him?” That didn’t sound like my Charli. “She’d tell me to fuck off. Actually, she’d call me a dick.” The thought made me smile.
Pat laughed. It wasn’t real, but it broke the tension.
“If you hear anything,” I said, “…call. I don’t give a damn what time it is.”
“I will. By the way, they gave her a phone. I held it when she was with you.”
“Is that secret code for you’ve got her number?”
“It is. I’m sure it’s monitored.”
“I’d be disappointed in those assholes if it wasn’t. I won’t call it, but I want it.”
“I don’t know what it will do for us, but sure.”
As I disconnected the line, I looked at the number I’d written.
Ten digits that would let me hear her voice.
Ten digits that could cause her more problems. I refused to be the source of any more of her anguish.
Instead of calling, I sent the number to Deloris and opened my app. Lying on the bed, I watched as she materialized. Not her, but her blue dot.
My cheeks rose. My Charli was the most beautiful blue dot in the world. I read her numbers. Her normal pulse gave me hope that she was safe with Jane, sound asleep, and ready for the big day we had coming.
I replayed Patrick’s assessments in my head.
Scared.
Afraid.
With each recollection, sleep slipped further and further away. What had Edward Spencer done? What had he threatened? And why with a house full of staff, was the Montague heir waiting on him?
Fucking bastard wanted the power. He wanted others to see it. I knew his type. I despised his type. People who equated fear with power were bullies in the true sense of the word.
Just because my Charli could submit didn’t mean she was weak. On the contrary, it took a strong woman to be submissive, to relent and trust. That was the woman she was.
Charli was fucking hot as hell when she gave herself—on her knees, her chin bowed, and eyes veiled. When she acquiesced, it was a gift, an offer to surrender her body and mind—her two most powerful assets. That’s what submission was meant to be, a gift. Something given, not something that was required or taken.
Knowing that she’d willingly trusted me with all of herself, even in Del Mar, showed me what an amazing and resilient woman she was.
I’d never forced her. I never would.
That was the differentiation between unique tastes and abuse. A true dominant—the opposite of a submissive—understood and respected the fact that the submissive was the one with the true power.
From our first meeting, the first time her golden eyes met mine, I never doubted that she was in control. I was captured by her spell.
Whether it was the pleasure of reddening her skin with my hand, a belt, or with the knots of a crop, it was never about power. Our power exchange was about pleasure—hers and mine. Whether I bound her with satin or a word, the anticipation was an aphrodisiac to us both. It wasn’t only about her body, but also her mind. With someone as intelligent as Charli, the mind was as powerful as any bindings, and foreplay was as important as execution. With only words, her thighs would glisten, hips would writhe, and nipples would harden.
Charli was the most responsive and sexual woman I’d ever known.
That wasn’t her only quality. Her sexuality didn’t define her being. My Charli was also the smartest and most determined.
Fucking stubborn.
While I had plans to redden her ass for that, it was a trait I nonetheless admired.
I couldn’t—wouldn’t—think about what he’d done to scare her. Instead, I’d think about what could be done to frighten him. Bullies thrived on weakness.
“I have news for you, Spencer, I’m not weak. I’m also fucking smarter than you. You’re going down and when you do, you’ll be the one to suffer.”
THE RINGING OF the phone pulled me from my sleep. I rubbed my face, trying to focus.
Since I was still dressed, I must have fallen asleep watching Charli’s app. I reached for my phone. Isaac’s name was on the screen.
“What?”
“Boss,” Isaac said, “she’s out of the manor.”
I searched for the clock. What time was it? How late had I slept?”
“Where’s she going?”
“It looks like Magnolia Woods. She’s not alone.”
“Spencer?” Just saying his name lit the wick of my explosive blood pressure.
“Not the one you think. She’s with Mrs. Spencer.”
His mother? “What makes you think they’re going to Magnolia Woods? The last few times she’s gone with his mother, they’ve gone on wedding planning excursions.”
“That number you sent us last night? Mrs. Witt tapped into it. She’s been listening to all of Miss Collins’s calls. Mr. Spencer called her earlier this morning. Mrs. Witt overheard Miss Collins’s destination.”
I nodded. “I’m heading to Deloris’s room. We’ll keep an eye on the feed. Call if anything changes.”
“Yes, sir.”
Fifteen minutes later, showered and in clean clothes, I was in Deloris’s suite, drinking coffee and watching the rotating feed from Magnolia Woods. The world beyond her closed drapes was alive with Saturday morning bustle. Tourists and locals walked the historic streets, going on with their lives as if there weren’t others in the balance.
I waited. When Deloris didn’t offer, I asked, “How did she sound?”
Looking up from her computer, Deloris smiled.
“I know,” I admitted. “I sound like a pussy.”
“No, Lennox, you sound concerned. You sound like a man who’s worried sick over the woman he loves. While I’m sorry the two of you are going through this, I’m glad you’ve both realized how special your relationship is.”
“Sometimes I think about Jo.” There weren’t many people I’d have this conversation with. Only two. Deloris was one of them. “I think about how I didn’t know… how helpless I was. I don’t want to be that way with Charli. I won’t be.”
“It’s no secret that I loved Jocelyn almost like a daughter. She was a beautiful, naïve soul. Alex is different. If you’d had Jocelyn in your bed yesterday and told her that you didn’t want her to go back to her family, she would’ve stayed.”
I closed my eyes, remembering not Jo, but Charli in Patrick’s suite. I could feel the softness of her warm skin, smell her intoxicating scent, and hear the echoes of her whimpers and moans.
“Lennox?”
I tore my gaze away from my nearly empty cup of coffee and pushed away the images. “I don’t think that is a compliment for Charli.”
“On the contrary. Alex keeps you on your toes. Despite what you may think, you don’t control her.”
The tendons of my neck stretched.
“Listen to me,” Deloris went on. “She lets you. She’s okay with it.” She shrugged. “I could even go so far as to say that she enjoys it. There are some things I don’t want to know. Nevertheless, it’s not the same. What makes the two of you work is that you’re both stubborn.”
“Me?” I gave my most innocent stare. Honestly, it was a sad effort. There was nothing innocent about me.
“Yes. I can see that what’s happening is hurting you, but it’s hurting her too. If she hadn’t done everything she could to save her mother, Alex would never have forgiven herself.”
“And if I don’t do everything to save her, I’ll never forgive myself.”
Deloris nodded. “Tonight. The plan’s set.”
Finishing my coffee, I set the cup down. “Now tell me about the call you overheard.”
“I recorded it.”
“What the fuck? Why haven’t you said anything?”
“Because I’m not confident that I should share it.”
“It’s not your fucking choice. You work for me, in c
“Lennox. Like I said, Alex is strong and stubborn. Wait until you have her in your arms. Wait until you know she’s safe. I think… it’s better if you wait.”
“Play it.”
Deloris shook her head. Pursing her lips, she typed on her keyboard. Seconds later, the recording began.
“Yes?”
My chest ached. Was it really only a day since I’d held her in my arms?
“Yes?” Spencer’s smug voice resonated. “Try again, darling. I’m sure that screen told you who was calling.”
What the fuck was his deal?
“Bryce, I just woke. I didn’t read the screen.”
“Then you’re well rested.”
“Not really. I didn’t sleep well.”
“That isn’t my concern. Your concern is putting that stunning smile on your face. Do you think you can manage that?”
“I’ll work on it.”
“Hurry. Mother will be there soon.”
“Why?” Charli asked.
“I think appreciation should be your response. Gratitude. Where are your manners?”
What the fuck? I stood, unable to listen and sit. My eyes met Deloris’s.
Her lips pressed tighter together. “Lennox, you’ve heard enough—”
I raised my hand, silencing her. Charli was already speaking.
“…thankful for?”
“I’m agreeing to your request to visit your mother. That’s what we do. We’re going to be married. We want each other happy, right?”
“So I’m going to Magnolia Woods?”
“Mother will accompany you. I’d hate to have anything happen with today’s visit. She’ll be with you the entire time.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s it, darling. After your visit she will bring you back here and you can elaborate on your gratitude.”
“To Carmichael Hall? Why not here?”
What the hell? She’s petitioning for Montague Manor. What the hell is up with Carmichael Hall?
“Manners,” Spencer reminded her.
“Thank you for the invitation, but I need to prepare for the party.”
“We have unfinished business. Carmichael Hall is a place where your fucking cousin won’t materialize to disrupt our plans again.”