Captive

Chapter Seven

She felt the pains starting in her chest again as she collected the plates from the table. She had been mindful of his warning and only made herself a small serving so that she couldn't be accused of waste. Usually her appetite was fine but the last few weeks had diminished it significantly with each new revelation about her father bringing a fresh wave of nausea and doubling this terrible pain she had been experiencing since she was seventeen years old. When she saw those awful bills, learned there was no money she had tried to contact both Mark and Kane but neither brother answered and when her father caught her he became aggressive and angry, told her that they didn't care about him, they'd both left him, might as well be as dead as their mother. Then he'd told her that the Harts would kill him and maybe that was for the best before he'd started to weep bitterly, telling her how sorry he was and she been devastated at his grief, told herself that that was what was at the root of all of it. He was simply a broken man and she would do anything it took to fix him. If she paid off the debts he would be ok she told herself,  but when the terms of what she would need to do in order to do that came through she'd wanted to run. Where would she run to though? Tears pricked behind her eyes and she blinked them away hastily, not wanting him to see them. Her mother had barely spoken to her in eight years, their relationship becoming more and more distant from a starting point which hadn't exactly been close in the first place and the UK held too many dark memories that kept her awake at night even now. Canada had been her escape when Kane contacted her, asked if she would come out to help their dad.  Juliet was in the fortunate position she could work from just about anywhere in the world right now. Her first book had hit the bestsellers list when she was just twenty one and she was described as a child prodigy, her research described as meticulous and her writing as a fresh new voice in non fiction. Her mum had been so proud of her that she'd let herself believe that it made up for everything which had happened. How could it though? Pain rippled through her again as she reflected that not all monsters were hiding under the bed or even in the dark.

She needed her pills but she hadn't seen her handbag since the car. It had her phone, her pills and her notebook in it, all things she would very much have liked to have close by her, but the phone at least she was doubtful she would be allowed.  With trembling hands she went across to where Bret was sat scrolling through his own phone and waited politely for him to look up.

"Excuse me sir, would you know where my handbag is?"

"Your purse? Why?" he asked suspiciously. She swallowed and her hand came to her chest again, rubbing as pain flared there. His gaze followed her hand, landed back on her wrist.

"I'd be grateful if you would return it to me. Please," she said softly. He gave her a long, hard look and shook his head.

"You ain't going anywhere, you don't need it," he said, dismissively, looking back down at his phone as if the conversation was over.

"Please, Bret... I... I mean sir, I need my medication."

"What medication?" he asked, letting the fact she called him Bret slide for now as he looked up sharply and saw her rubbing at her chest again where pain was blossoming and retreating every other minute. He rose to his feet and his hand reached out to clasp her wrist again, looking at the scars. "Tell you what we'll make a deal. You tell me how you got the scars and I'll give you your purse, with everything in it except your phone." He smiled at her as if he had offered her the world and in a way he had. The pills were her lifeline and the notebook contained the skeleton of her next book, something he had agreed she could continue to write as long as it didn't interfere with anything else she was doing for him. She almost snorted with derision that he kept her phone from her; the only person she spoke to with any regularity was her literary agent Cara Smith who she had been friendly with at university, though close relationships she didn't find easy. Close relationships required trust and that was not something she had for anyone any more. He saw the emotions flicker across her face, her hand pressed to her chest as she held her breath briefly waiting for the pain to pass.