Not-So-Secret

Chapter thirty-seven

KELLY LOOKED at each garment with an exacting eye.

Jones had very meticulous taste and she had come know and loathe it. He wanted to flaunt her, to show her off like a racehorse wearing his colours. He also wanted even the most casual observer to know without a doubt that her clothes cost a fortune.

She handed the salesgirl half-dozen garments, then followed her to a dressing room that was decorated more extravagantly than her home in Milford.

Despite the night she'd spent, the reality of the situation all around her, she could barely believe she was buying these clothes to be the best-dressed prisoner in history.

In a sane world, she'd be able to turn the bastard in and lock him up for years.

Never happen. There wasn't a cop in this town she could truly trust. Not that there weren't honest cops. She just had no way of knowing which ones were strong enough to resist Jones's machine and she had no idea how far up the law-enforcement ladder went.

Her gaze went to the door as she pulled a cream silk shift over her head. James was just outside, lounging against the wall. Why him? Why couldn't her jailer have been someone else?

Being around him was too much. She had the strength to bear Jones, the strength to put up with his cruelty, but she wasn't strong enough to stand so close to James Mason and know that he felt nothing. Worse than nothing.

He was Shaun's father. So much of the reason she loved Shaun so much. He was like James. That used to be a comfort, but now it terrified her. Neither James nor Jones could know the truth about Shaun. Jones would kill her, probably Shaun and if James found out ...

Would he help her then? Would he turn back into the old James? Or would a child put too much of a crimp in his plans? She had no idea if she could trust him and if there was any chance that his knowing could hurt Shaun, she'd take the secret to her grave.

She just had to be careful not to let Jones see Shaun and James together. She'd have to be careful around Mrs. Mills, too. She'd see that Shaun's grin was just like his daddy's.

If she could just understand who James was. What confused her was his whisper when she'd collapsed in his arms. He'd sounded as if he hated Jones, as if he really did want to kill him.

Yet that didn't mean his feelings had anything to do with her. He'd been hateful toward her. Cold as ice.

She looked in the mirror. The dress was too short, showed too much cleavage. Jones would approve. The next dress looked even worse. She'd never be able to cross her legs or bend over at all. Which meant Jones would have her doing both things at the most embarrassing times. She had to remember it was about power and about control. She didn't have to submit even when she obeyed.