Grounded (Up in the Air, #3)(66)

“Arms above your head,” he ordered.

I complied.

He secured my hands and feet together and to the small bed. I tugged experimentally, and saw that he’d left me quite a bit of slack.

I tensed when I felt him pulling at my clothes. A loud tearing sound told me that he was cutting them off. I was bare when he was done.

“James,” I began again. Maybe now that I was restrained he would feel calmer.

“Don’t. I don’t trust myself right now,” he said in a gruff voice.

He adjusted my head, wedging a soft pillow there. “Go to sleep. You were up all night, and I need to go get myself in hand. We’ll talk later.”

Before I could respond he was turning out the light, shutting the door and a loud lock was clicking into place.

I couldn’t believe it. After all of that rage, he’d just left me. He knew that this was the punishment I hated the most, with the suspense and the unanswered questions, and he’d left me in the dark. In a cell. The bastard.

I had some dark thoughts about him for quite a while in that pitch-black room before I was able to relax my mind enough to let sleep take me. He hadn’t left me so much as a light under the locked door. I was shut in tight.

I awoke as the door opened and a stream of light from the hallway fell across me. I turned my face away. The overhead light switched on. My restraints were already loose, but Mr. Cavendish added some slack to the rope, pulling me up by the shoulders until I was sitting up.

I squinted at him, my eyes still adjusting to the sudden light. He was shirtless and sweaty, his hair tied back. He held a plate of food on his lap.

He untied my hands, put the plate in my lap, and turned away. I watched his stiff back for a while, wondering what to say.

I ate. Because I was hungry, and because I was hoping that if I ate that James would start talking when I was done.

I ate maybe half of the seasoned chicken, brown rice, and spinach before I handed it back to him.

He took it without a word, stood up, and left.

He had turned off the light then shut and locked the door before I realized his intent.

“James!” I shouted.

He didn’t respond.

I was so frustrated that I screamed.

I was so furious and anxious that it took me even longer to relax into sleep that time. Eventually my body just gave into the relentless darkness.

When I woke again it was still dark, but there was the faintest line of light showing through the side of the door. It was ajar.

I sat up, testing my wrists and ankles. I was free. I moved slowly to the door, pushing it open.

I had to squint against the bright hallway light. I blinked away the darkness for long moments while I took in the hallway.

James sat in a chair that was set against the wall, wearing nothing but his boxers. He was slumped forward, his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. It was such a defeated posture for him.

I approached him slowly, tentatively. I couldn’t tell if he was napping.

“James,” I said quietly.

“Call me Mr. Cavendish,” he said in a low voice. He didn’t move.

I’d been so angry with him, furious really, but it drained from me more quickly than I would have thought possible as I took him in.

He was like a wounded animal just then, and I only wanted to make it better.

I knelt in front of him. I touched his head, and he sat up, giving me a very mean look.

I shifted closer, moving between his legs.

He gripped my throat. “Why?” he asked quietly.

I swallowed, wetting my lips.

He watched the action with rapt attention.

“Why did I go see Sven without security?” I asked, for clarity.

“Yes. That.”

“I was nervous about meeting him. I had a hard time even going. I knew it would be perfectly safe, since we’d be in a crowded public place in broad daylight. I saw no threat, and I wanted to have a normal meeting. My security team makes me nervous. I can’t even imagine what an outsider looking in would think of the whole mess. I just wanted some semblance of a normal first meeting with him. That’s all. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Worried me? Is that what you call it? I have that team guarding you, Bianca, because it’s the only way that I can bear for you to leave my sight. There is a man out there, a man who has killed at least two women, and he wants to kill you. He is unhinged, and completely unpredictable. The only thing we can predict is his grudge against you. Do you know what that does to me? You are more precious to me than my own life, by far. It’s not even a question. I would do anything for you. All I ask is that you let me protect you from a known threat. How could you be so careless, Bianca? So insensitive?”

I opened my mouth to respond and he covered it with his other hand, his lip curling into a snarl.

“Your father has been missing for weeks. We can only place his whereabouts at one place almost a week ago, and that is because a body marked the spot. He could be literally anywhere. And all he would have to do to see that you were in New York would be to look online. The paparazzi have mapped your weekly route with neon lights. I understand that you wanted to meet your half-brother. I wasn’t trying to keep you from it. All I asked was that you take your bodyguards with you. Your father and brother could have been working together. Your brother could have been luring you there. They could have taken you before anyone could have stopped them.”