Entrapment Read online

  Standing to meet her, I asked, “Why don’t you tell me about my mother? Better yet, since you have the key to my freedom, why don’t you take me to my mother? Let me see her condition for myself.”

  Her tongue darted to her lips and she nodded. “I-I think we should concentrate on where we can do the most good, where we can make the most progress. As it is, we have less than two months before you and Bryce say your vows. There are showers that need to be planned, registries that need to be completed, and a honeymoon planned. You’ll be pleased to know I’ve secured the Presbyterian Church…”

  I narrowed my gaze. “Are you serious?” The Presbyterian Church was one of the oldest, most historic churches in Savannah. It didn’t seem possible that she could reserve that on such short notice, especially on Christmas Eve. The donation must have been enough to cover my law school for the full three years, including my housing. Well, at least now I knew where my trust fund went.

  Setting her coffee cup on the table, Suzanna brushed the imaginary lint from the skirt of her dress. “Alexandria, your father…” She emphasized the words, daring me to reach for my coffee. “…expects you in his office at noon. The photographer was due here at two for your engagement pictures, but it seems as though that needs to be postponed.” She took a step closer and lifted a brow. “Perhaps you and Bryce could manage to keep marks limited to places covered by clothing, at least for the near future.”

  “I was fucking fighting him—”

  Her palm neared my cheek, but just as quickly I leaned away, saving myself from another slap and seized her wrist. Clenching my teeth, I squeezed. “Don’t think that you ever can strike me.”

  She pulled her wrist away, rubbing the area I’d just held. “You may have been off gallivanting around the world and your mother may have coddled you, but, Miss Collins, you’re back in Savannah and proper ladies don’t say fuck. From this time forward, that word will be stricken from your vocabulary either willingly or by force. The choice is yours.”

  “Do you even give a fuck about my mother?” I opened my eyes in question as well as disobedience.

  “Laide is my best friend. Of course I care. Don’t you understand, Alexandria? I’m here with you, putting up with your insolent behavior for her. Do you think Alton would do this? The answer is no. He would not and will not put up with your disrespectful conduct. I’m here to help you and help Laide. I guess the question is… Do you give a fuck what happens to her?”

  It was Alton’s question, restated.

  Suzanna turned on her heels and walked toward the door. With her hand on the crystal handle, she added, “I’ll leave your door unlocked. Shower, dress, and be in your father’s office before noon. If your answer to my last question is yes, then don’t be a second late.”

  I wanted her gone. I also didn’t want to obey anything she, Bryce, or Alton said, but I was trapped. “Suzanna?”

  “Yes?”

  “He said I could call Columbia. Is he here? I could go down and call my faculty advisor now. I’ve already missed a class yesterday afternoon and another this morning.”

  She eyed me up and down. “A proper lady doesn’t walk around Montague Manor in a bathrobe.”

  After twisting the knob, she opened the door and just as quickly disappeared as the door closed.

  I TURNED THE key from my side of my door and returned it to my jewelry box. I couldn’t make myself go into the bathroom and shower knowing the door could be opened. I had visions of emerging from the bathroom to someone—anyone—in my room. I doubted it would be Alton, but then again, anything was possible. In my opinion, Bryce and Suzanna were equally unacceptable visitors.

  Before my shower, I’d moved the cart with my breakfast back into the hallway. The key was a risk, a way to alert others that I had another. I’d hoped that placing the cart in the hallway would stop the young girl from trying to enter my room.

  As I looked for clothes, I realized that it didn’t matter that the things I’d packed in New York were with Deloris and Nox. My closet was full. There were both clothes that I’d left in Savannah as well as new ones. Even the bathroom cabinets were filled with my choice of cosmetics. I remembered that Jane had unpacked for me during my last visit, but with each new discovery, I feared there was another explanation, someone else who helped to plan for my return.

  No one else would have known my preferences so exactly except the person who’d shared my life and my apartment for the last four years. Everything was correct, all the way down to the brand names and colors of eye shadow. I didn’t want to think that Chelsea purposely sent me the text message to lure me back to Savannah. I rationalized that even if she had, given my mother’s condition, I was glad I was back.

  Besides, if Chelsea hadn’t contacted me, would anyone have even told me about my momma?

  As I prepared for my command performance in Alton’s office, it occurred to me that although my closet and cosmetics were satisfactory, I didn’t have everything that I needed. I needed my backpack, school supplies, and birth control medication.

  The absence of my medicine gave me another idea. Perhaps it was as farfetched as having Patrick in my wedding—that would never happen—but it was worth a try. I needed my birth control medicine. If Alton wouldn’t let me have my things from New York, there was only one alternative: I would need to see Dr. Beck—alone.

  Taking one last look in the mirror, I shrugged. The simple dress and flat shoes were a compromise. I’d have preferred jeans and a light sweater, but I was playing his game. If I were sequestered to the manor, my attire wouldn’t matter. My goal was to get to Magnolia Woods. For that, I needed to look my part.

  With a deep breath, I made my way toward Alton’s office. It was the same path I’d taken during the middle of the night, minus the check of neighboring rooms. Though the passages were brighter during the day, the Montague Manor shadows never fully evaporated. They lurked within the dim and less-traveled passageways.

  I fought to breathe as blood drained from my cheeks. It was 11:50 as I lifted my hand to knock on the office door. I had always despised this room, and here I was, entering it for the third time in the last twenty-four hours.

  I may have thought it before, but the dog-and-pony show was now in full swing.

  I PACED NEAR the windows of my office. The world beyond the glass continued to move. Small cars created ribbons of traffic, and tiny dots of all different colors walked along the sidewalks. The colors of the dots were created with jackets and coats, hats and gloves, possibly even scarves. While the early afternoon sun cast shadows on the ribbons and dots, it did little to warm the air. But this was New York. The residents were tough and would persevere. Despite the late October breeze blowing fiercely between the buildings, all of the dots moved forward, onward as if my world weren’t on the brink of imploding.

  I was from here, born in Brooklyn, raised in Rye. I was resilient, yet I didn’t feel that way. Instead, I felt defeated. Why was I back in New York?

  How could I face Charli one day, admitting that I’d left her… in that house of horrors?

  Nothing about my brief talk with Patrick this morning alleviated my level of stress. We hadn’t had much time and he had a prior obligation. That was why the two of us had a dinner meeting scheduled for tomorrow. Nevertheless, during our quick chat, he’d confirmed my unspoken fears. With each response, I had the sickening realization that I hadn’t grasped the depth of Charli’s despair when she first arrived in New York. I could make excuses. I could blame my own rage, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d been in pain and I hadn’t recognized it.

  That wouldn’t happen again.

  According to Patrick, the loss of Charli’s trust fund was sudden and recent. She’d told me about it, but not in detail. She’d said that her mother and Alton Fitzgerald had taken it. What she hadn’t told me was that they offered her another option. Her alternative to being penniless was to transfer to Savannah Law, marry Edward Spencer, and live at Montague Manor.


  My Charli hadn’t caved to their will. She’d fought them… and found Infidelity. Though the company was supposed to be a secret, it seemed as though it was truly the worst-kept kind. Patrick was the one who’d told Charli about it. He still assumed I was her client. In his mind, that made the topic open for discussion.

  As I watched the ribbons and dots, I palmed my temples. My head ached from both too much whiskey and not enough sleep. Sleeping hadn’t been an option after Charli’s call.

  There was something else that bothered me. Patrick had said more than once that he was happy Charli had found me and that we’d been paired together. He didn’t know what an ass I’d been, how I’d treated her, chastising her for a choice and decision that should have been praised. Not that I do or did condone Infidelity, but she should have been applauded for standing up to the injustices she’d endured. That wasn’t what I’d done. Instead, I’d belittled and punished her.

  What made it all worse—ten times, a thousand times, a million fucking times worse—was that now, despite it all, she was back under their roof again. The independence she’d exerted was taken away from her in an instant. Patrick had no doubt that somehow they’d sucked her back in. He did question the possibility of ever truly freeing her, especially as long as her mother was ill. A black hole, he called it.

  I didn’t argue, though I vehemently disagreed. I’d free her if it were the last damn thing I did. But first, my goal was to understand my opponents. I wanted to know every detail, from the layout of Montague Manor—the grounds and the house—to the way Alton Fitzgerald took his coffee. I wanted to know everything.

  I’d learn as much from Patrick as possible and once I did, I’d free her. And then I’d spend the rest of my life atoning for my unacceptable behavior. Never again would she feel trapped. Never again would she be sucked into the Montague darkness. I’d do anything and everything to fulfill one promise I’d made her. I’d said it when I was upset, but I meant every damn word.

  Alexandria Charli Montague Collins is mine. She belongs to me. I’m not a good man, but I’m the only fucking bad I want near her.

  That had been my promise and my threat. I wouldn’t rest until I made it her reality.

  For the millionth time, I opened the tracker app on my phone. Her blue dot was still at the manor. As soon as it moved, I’d alert Isaac. He had access to the same app. I knew he was also watching, but it made me feel better to see her, even if she was a blue dot.

  I even spoke to the blue dot: “Charli, I may have left Savannah, but know it was only because you asked. It’s only because it’ll help you see your mother. Don’t think of me as being gone. I’m still with you and you’re with me. Stay strong, princess. I’ll get you back… this bad man needs you. You’re my good, my light.”

  The beep of the intercom beckoned my focus toward the speaker on my desk phone and away from the tracker app. “Mr. Demetri, your father is on line two.”

  If I stood perfectly still, could I ignore Dianne’s message and pretend I didn’t hear her?

  I took a deep breath, said a silent prayer that I was up-to-date on whatever the fuck he was going to ask, and pushed the button. “Thank you, Dianne. I’ll take his call.”

  Easing myself into my desk chair, I lifted the receiver and pushed the connection for line two. “Oren.”

  “Lennox. Tell me what’s happening.”

  That was such a broad request. My mind scrambled with what he could possibly be referring to. “There’s a lot happening. Care to narrow that down?”

  “I could ask about the distribution centers you promised Carroll or the way you outsmarted Davis with the House bill, but I’m more interested in why two separate private Demetri-contracted planes went to Savannah. I’m interested in why five people went to Savannah and only three returned to New York.” His tenor uncharacteristically slowed. “I’m interested in why Miss Collins didn’t return. I was under the impression she was a studious person, intent on her law degree.”

  “How the fuck do you know this?”

  Oren’s volume rose. “I’m the damn CEO of Demetri Enterprises. You may think I’m sitting in London not paying any fucking attention, but I see everything. Every manifest is copied and sent to me. Every proposal goes past me before it goes further. I started this company from nothing—”

  I pushed back against the chair, my temper and temperature rising exponentially. “I know!” I interrupted. “I’ve heard this fucking speech. Get to your point.”

  “Why is Miss Collins in Savannah without you?”

  I ran my hand through my hair. I must be not only sleep-deprived, but also fucking delusional, because for a moment I imagined hearing genuine concern in my father’s voice, concern over my life, my girlfriend, perhaps even more than how it related to Demetri Enterprises. “Why the hell do you care?”

  “So it was just a fling? A conquest? You threw her away, or did she leave you?”

  My head moved from side to side. “You really don’t want to have this conversation with me right now.”

  “Mr. Demetri,” Dianne’s voice came through the speaker.

  “Hold on, Dad,” I said leaning forward and hitting the button. “Not now, Dianne. I’m still on the phone.”

  “Sir, Mr. Demetri—”

  I lifted my eyes to the opening of my office door, momentarily stunned as my father entered with Dianne half a step behind.

  “Sir, he’s here.”

  Slamming the receiver down, I replied, “I can see that.” My stare sent daggers toward my father. Fuck him. He didn’t have any idea what I was going through.

  As our eyes locked, I expected the daggers in return. I expected some arbitrary lecture about how my name was associated with his company and in reality it was his name on the letterhead. I expected anything other than what I saw. In the split second since he’d entered, the arrogant prick I expected was gone. In my father’s pale eyes was something I hadn’t seen in years.

  Emotion. Concern. Perhaps even helplessness.

  “Dianne, close the door. Give us a minute.”

  Oren placed his phone in his pocket.

  “You didn’t think you should’ve started that conversation with I’m here?”

  “Tell me what’s happening. Don’t bullshit. I want to know.”

  “Why?”

  He walked to the chair near the sofa. The one he always used, the one facing the door.

  “Son, that’s a long story.”

  AS THE DOOR opened, Bryce met me face to face. For only a moment I forgot to walk; instead, I stood mesmerized by Bryce’s face, more accurately, by the large egg-like elevation on his left cheek. I fought to pull my gaze from the purple contusion to his eyes. Once I did, my lower lip disappeared between my teeth.

  “Sorry.” As soon as the apology left my lips, I regretted uttering the word. I wasn’t sorry that I’d head-butted him. I was sorry that he’d caught me, wrestled me to the ground, and gotten aroused. I was sorry I’d allowed him to choreograph my conversation with Deloris. I could go on and on with my regrets. Head-butting him wasn’t one of them. Shrugging, I added with a grin, “Not really. Maybe you should think twice before you tackle me again.”

  His eyes narrowed and voice lowered to a whisper. Cocking his head toward Alton and Suzanna, he said, “This is another instance when you should keep your mouth shut.”

  Bile swirled in the pit of my stomach as I took a breath and stepped through the threshold.

  “Mother,” Bryce said.

  Suzanna nodded. “I’m glad you could make it on time. I see your ability to tell time has improved, Alexandria.”

  Bitch.

  I summoned my most accommodating tone and even allowed a bit of Southern drawl to sweeten my response. “Thank you for noticing. It was difficult without my phone, but at least the clock in my room works.”

  “Hmm,” Suzanna said, pursing her lips. “Well, Bryce has asked that we give you and your father some privacy.” She looked toward her son. “He hopes that with fewe
r distractions, you’ll understand.”

  I was in a strange quandary. I didn’t want Suzanna and Bryce present, yet I didn’t want to be alone with Alton. Yesterday, Bryce had stood up to Alton on my behalf. I’d never seen anyone do that, not even my mother. That didn’t mean I wanted to admit I wanted him here.

  Instead, I focused on my indignation at their insinuation. “I’m capable of understanding, distractions or not. It’s the absurdity of the information that has me thrown.”

  “I don’t have all day,” Alton announced as he sat behind his desk.

  So this wasn’t going to happen at the table—another gray area for me. Each unfamiliar move seemed to throw me off-kilter.

  Bryce stepped closer and reached for my hand. “Would you rather have us stay? Me stay?”

  I didn’t want him to ask, nor was I willing to admit to anything. Retrieving my hand, I shrugged. “It seems to me that I’m the only one who doesn’t know all the information. Just tell me so I can go see my mother.”

  “That hasn’t been—” Alton began.

  “They’re gone,” Bryce interrupted. “You showed me the manifest.”

  My heart sank with the knowledge he so casually offered. I was truly here without them. Nox and Deloris had done what I’d asked, leaving me alone. I held out hope they’d caught my message about Isaac. However, as I faced this room, it didn’t matter. I was alone. I reminded myself to concentrate on my mother.

  Alton’s eyes narrowed toward Bryce in some unspoken exchange. Finally, he said, “That doesn’t mean it’s safe.”

  “We’ll take security. I won’t leave her alone.”

  “Alexandria,” Alton said, “sit down. First things first.”

  “I agree,” I consented as I eased into a chair across from his desk. “First things first: you promised me a call to Columbia.”

  “It’s done.”

  “What? What do you mean it’s done? You said I could call.”

  “The day is half over. I assumed an institution as prestigious as Columbia Law would do business at a more reasonable hour and I was right.”