Uncovering You 3: Resistance (2 page)

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Authors: Scarlett Edwards

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Contemporary Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Psychological, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense, #General Fiction

BOOK: Uncovering You 3: Resistance
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***

 

I hear a door open behind me. I whip around. This is the first time anyone has come in while I was awake.

I hear footsteps against the marble floor before I see their owner. Even so, I know right away that it’s him. There’s a confidence to the tap of those shoes that belongs to someone completely at ease and in control of his surroundings.

I see Stonehart emerge from the entrance to the rest of the mansion. My stomach does a flip at the sight of him, but not out of fear.

He looks… good. There’s more stubble on his jawline than I’ve ever seen. The shadow suits his face. His jet black hair is styled back as usual, with a small, stray lick dropping over his forehead.

His shoulders are thrown back, filling out the width of his jacket. His clothes are crisp and fresh, even though I know from the time of day that he’s just returning from work. There’s a particular strut in his step that I haven’t encountered before. I guess he’s had a successful day.

My eyes follow him as he walks toward me. His lips twitch up in a semblance of a smile.

“Hello, Lilly,” he croons. He walks a circle around the bed. “You’re looking quite lovely tonight.”

I glance down at my soiled clothing and stare back at him. “You’re kidding. I haven’t showered for three days.”

He tilts his head to the side and purses his lips. “Now, whose fault is that?”

“Mine,” I say without hesitation. I make sure to meet his eyes as I do.

He nods. “Correct. I don’t appreciate sloppiness. You are entirely to blame for your current condition. But, still…” His eyes sweep over me. “There is something very evocative about seeing you like this.”

I sit up straighter. “Are you here only to compliment me?” I ask, “Or do you have a real purpose?”

This time, Stonehart does smile. “Spunk,” he observes. “You were missing it before. It seems this period of isolation has done you good.”

“It depends on your perspective,” I say sweetly.

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is your perspective on this matter, pray tell?”

“Isolation has given me time to think.”

“Hmm,” Stonehart intones. “Well, Lilly, I hope it was the type of thinking that will allow you to avoid situations like this in the future.” He sits at the foot of the bed and looks up at me. “Because, to be honest…” his hand slides up my bare leg, “…I’ve missed having you…
on call
.”

My eyes tighten in indignation. I jerk my leg away. He frowns at me.

“Now, now,” he soothes, “just because we’ve been apart doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten the rules of our engagement, does it?”

“No,” I say. “I remember.”

His voice deepens a tiny bit. “Then why,” he asks, “did you just pull away?”

I answer him without a trace of fear or hesitation. “You told me to always be ready for you.” I give him a sweet smile. “Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond my control, I’ve been rendered incapable of fulfilling that obligation.”

He chuckles. “Learning,” he says. “You’re learning, Lilly.”

Without warning, he stands up. He glances at his watch. “It’s six-fifteen. Dinner is at seven. I trust you’ll have enough time to get prepared?”

I allow myself to look past the edge of my bed for the first time in days. I can barely contain the excitement in my voice. “You mean, you’ve lifted the boundary?”

Stonehart’s eyes gleam at me. “Sweetheart, the boundary around your bed was removed the moment I left your room last time.” He taps the side of his head. “The restrictions have all been in here, for you.”

 

Chapter Two

 

I slam the shower door angrily and jab my hand out for the soap. The spray of hot water is doing a fantastic job washing off the filth that’s built up on my skin over the last few days, but I’m barely aware of it.

I’m furious. Livid. Stonehart just told me that the only reason I’ve let myself get to this condition is because of a boundary I
imagined
. The collar’s range was extended from around my bed the moment he left the sunroom three days ago.

I don’t know if I’m angrier with myself or with him. I don’t even know if he was telling the truth.
That’s
what makes it so bad! I have no way of knowing whether the boundary was ever actually there or not.

This is all a mind game. I know that’s what it is.
Everything
about this situation is a mind game. A sick and twisted game dreamt up by a perverted man.

I don’t know the purpose of it. I don’t pretend to know what Stonehart’s aims are.

I try to calm myself by reiterating that this type of reaction is exactly what Stonehart wants. It’s no use. I can’t contain my anger.

It’s a ridiculous reaction. It’s not like I would have willingly
tested
the boundary of this damned collar. The shock the collar gave me that one time was one of the worst experiences of my life.

Still, the injustice of it gnaws at me. I spent three full days confined to that bed, afraid to move, because of something that
might not have even existed
.

In the grand scheme of things, I tell myself, breathing deeply, three days isn’t even that long. Especially compared to the amount of time I’ve already spent in Stonehart’s manor. But still… it’s frustrating. More so because it began on the first day I earned the freedom to roam the house.

I exit the shower and get dressed. My movements are jerky and sharp, fitting my mood. I keep my head high for the cameras. I will not let Stonehart see me self-conscious.

I apply a light brushing of makeup, do my hair as best as I can, and settle on a beautiful red dress that hugs my body in all the right places. Together with the four-inch black stilettos, I’m dressed to kill.

It’s funny what the illusion of freedom can do to your psyche. I know I’m not actually free. However, walking down the hall, showered and dressed, makes me feel so much stronger than I did when I was trapped in bed. I’m more resolute than ever to show Stonehart who I really am. I will not pretend to be weak any more.

I don’t know how long it’ll take me to undo the damage already done. I intend to counter it with every fiber of my being.

When I enter the dining room, I find Stonehart already seated. For a fleeting moment, panic flashes through me as I think I’m late. Stonehart made it clear how important punctuality is to him that night at the restaurant.

However, a quick glance at the clock on the wall shows me that there are still two minutes left before seven.

Stonehart makes no indication that he’s heard me. He’s focused completely on a black tablet in his hands, oblivious to my presence. His brow is furrowed in concentration. A line of something akin to displeasure creases his forehead.

I sit across from Stonehart and wait, my back straight, for him to deign it time to acknowledge me.

As soon as the minute hand hits twelve, Stonehart puts the tablet down. He looks at me.

His eyes sweep over my body. He takes in my face, my neck, my shoulders. His gaze lingers for a long moment on my breasts. I fight the urge to fidget under his stare.

But, after a moment, I realize that I don’t even feel the need to shy away. Let him look. His eyes can’t hurt me.

Stonehart’s gaze returns to mine. His expression is blank, impossible to read. I can’t even tell if he’s pleased, annoyed, pissed off, or agitated. He has an amazing poker face. I’d imagine it has served him well many times in the past.

Finally, a small smile breaks the impasse. “If you can make yourself look like that in under an hour,” he says, “I can’t imagine what you could do if I gave you the proper amount of time.”

A little thrill shoots through me at the complimentary words. I don’t let it show.

Instead, I acknowledge him with a slight tilt of my head. “Thank you, Jeremy.”

He drums his fingers on the table as he looks at me. “Now,” he says, “there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for the longest time. I wasn’t quite sure how to break the news.”

I pick up the flute of water and take a delicate sip. “Oh?”

“You remember, of course, the progression of your freedoms?”

“Naturally,” I say.

“First, I want to reinforce the notion that any TGBs that you’ve been given will not be taken away. They are yours by right, Lilly. I want you to know that.”

It sickens me how easily I can consider TGBs without feelings of disgust, given that they are very real reminders of my imprisonment. “Thank you, Jeremy.”

“You’re welcome. Now, the thing I wanted to speak to you about has to do with your tokens, in a way. That is, it has to do with the freedoms your TGBs earn. You remember, I assume, that twenty-five tokens will grant you the ability to attend public outings at my side?”

“I do.”

“Well, there’s a problem with that, Lilly,” he begins. My insides fill with dread. “At the end of the month, there is a private gala that I’ve been invited to attend. It benefits the Children’s Make a Wish Foundation. Stonehart Industries is one of the largest sponsors of the group.”

“For tax purposes, I presume?” I say before I can stop myself.

Stonehart’s eyes narrow. A sliver of anger shows behind them. “No,” he says testily. “No, Lilly. You’ll find that some endeavors I undertake for reasons of true altruism.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I mutter, not bothering to keep the sarcasm from my voice. He dares talk to
me
about altruism?

“Yes,” Stonehart says. I see him fighting to keep the displeasure from his face. “Anyway,
Lilly
, the gala is the first event I want to bring you to. That means you have just under thirty days to earn twenty TGBs. I expect the utmost effort from you to fulfill that task.”

My mind spins. If I get twenty-five, it means I’ll be halfway to earning my full freedom.

Would he really give me so many in a month?

Then again, Stonehart is the only person who can actually distribute them. He wants to take me to a public gathering with him? I can already think of a dozen things that can go wrong there. For him,
and
for me.

It’s a risk. I assume he won’t let me leave his side. But, at the same time, if there’s any chance to slip away, I’ll have to take it.

He interrupts my thoughts and speaks as if he’s read my mind.

“Assuming you do manage to earn sufficient TGBs,” he says, “be warned that certain…
precautions
… will be taken to ensure full compliance with my set of rules for leaving the house.” He leans back in his seat. “
But
. That is still a long way off. There is no point troubling ourselves by speaking of them this early.” He inclines his head and looks at me from under the arch of his brows. “As we both know, Lilly, a lot can change over the course of one month.”

I see movement to my side, and look over to find a young man standing at the entrance to the dining room. His head is lowered. He is holding a circular tray full of steaming dishes.

Stonehart notices him, too, and beckons him forward with a quick motion of the fingers. The young man sets the tray down and distributes the food between us, keeping his eyes on the floor. He does not look my way once.

Only after he leaves, and our dinner is set out in front of us, do I ask Stonehart, “What happened to Rose?”

He clicks his tongue. “Really, Lilly,” he says in a pitying sort of way. “Have you forgotten the third rule already?”

I don’t back down. “It was an innocent question,” I say.

“But a question nonetheless.” He glances up at me. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you are trying to test the boundaries of my patience.”

“I still have to know what I am and am not allowed to do.”

“You signed the contract. Things haven’t changed.”

“And so far, I’ve lived up to that document, haven’t I?” I challenge.

He raises his eyebrows. “Another question?”

“A rhetorical one.”

Stonehart chuckles. “Very well, Lilly. I can see you weren’t disingenuous when you said you got some thinking done. This is the type of behavior I’ve expected from you all along.”

“That sounds an awful lot like another compliment,” I say, knowing full well that I’m pushing my luck.

“Maybe it is,” Stonehart considers. “Before we eat, however, I’d like to ask
you
a question, if I may?”

“You don’t need my permission.”

“No. You’re right.” A small smile plays on his lips. “But the pretense of civility can go a long way in certain situations, I’ve found.”

I bite my tongue to stop a snarky retort from coming out. Instead, I just nod.

“All right, Lilly, here it is: Why you?”

I wait for him to add something else. When he does not, I shake my head. “ ‘Why me’ what?”

“Why do you think that all of this—” he sweeps his arms around us to encompass the whole room, “—is happening to
you
? Why are
you
the one sitting across from me right now, and not some other woman?”

I open my mouth to say that I haven’t the foggiest idea, but he stalls me by holding up one finger.

“Think carefully before you speak, Lilly-flower.” His voice has taken on a dangerous undercurrent. “We’re about to enter murky waters.”

My insides squirm as if a family of worms has taken up residence there. Stonehart looks at me from across the table. His features are calm. But I can tell this is one of his expert poker faces. The warning he’s given me makes his question more ominous than it sounded at first.

“I don’t know,” I say finally. Stonehart’s eyes haven’t moved from me. I feel like I’m being scrutinized by his most domineering gaze.

“Please,” he says softly. “Don’t insult either of our intelligences. I know some things that we do are an
act
.” He emphasizes the word by almost hissing it. “This dinner, for example. But there is a reason for maintaining a semblance of normality in our relationship. Why do you think that is?”

“Uh—”

“Again,” Stonehart says, “think carefully before you answer. If you recall, I told you once that I want your mind.” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Prove to me that you’re still the person I met that day.”

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