Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
NINETEEN
Savannah
I can’t believe he fucking tracked me.
Okay, I can, if I think about it. It’s not really out of character at all, but I can’t believe I let myself fall for anything that even resembled love, because I know now, he doesn’t love me. He doesn’t trust me. He kept me as his little pet, someone he could manipulate and control, but no more.
Not with these stakes.
I’m not the kind of person to sneak around. I hate leaving him a note, but I know Thayer. If I tell him to his face that I need space and time to think things over, he’s not going to let me leave. He won’t let me go out on my own, no matter what security measures I take, because he doesn’t believe that I’d be safe. He’d wrap me in bubble wrap if he could.
And I have a lot to think about. Oh, God, so much to think about. It isn’t just me anymore.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to quell the rising tide of emotion that threatens to strangle me. I draw in a breath and let it out slowly and think about my options.
I have no idea where I am, so leaving scares me. He blindfolded me when we came here, so I don’t know our exact location, but I do know we’re in Corsica.
I call Nicolette, but the call goes to voicemail. I consider calling Fabien, but I don’t know if he’s more loyal to his brother or his wife, so I don’t trust that option, either.
After the doctor left, I had some decisions to make. I pause before leaving the closet, thinking about what my next steps should be. Ignoring all the little trinkets and mementos of our play, and the way the whole closet smells like Thayer, I wonder what would be the easiest way for me to leave. Then I remember what Nicolette told me. Fabien has a large stash of secret identities, for him and for her. If I could get my hands on one of the fake ID’s, I could take a flight.
My mind races with possibilities and plans.
I’ll have to get away from here, whether I walk or somehow con my way into getting a ride. From there, I have to get to Paris.
The garden.
I could get to the garden from here and access GPS with a burner phone, call a ride, and head to one of the hotels in Corsica. I know which ones the Gerards own and which ones they don’t. Even if there was someone watching my every move, as he seems to think there is, I can sneak out that way.
No. I need to get to Paris, where I have more options. It’s not hard to get to Paris from Corsica. The biggest obstacle is actually leaving Le Luxe.
I hate sneaking, and would much rather just face this head-on, but I know how he is and what he’ll do.
I feel like I’m going to be sick, and this time I can’t blame the hormones. After everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve shared—and now the news I got today that will change everything—it feels as if I’m leaving a part of my own heart behind.
I know that I can’t trust feelings, that I need to rely on the next best logical move.
Gain clarity.
Step away.
Stay safe.
It’s time.
Just as a precaution, I wear one of my wigs and decide to take one of the weapons from the closet. I slide the slim pistol he’s taught me to use in the side of a boot, in a little holster he’s had fashioned for that exact purpose. I’ve never been allowed to use it without him, but I’m ready. I find a stash of cash he’s got tucked into a bedside drawer and slide it into my bra.
For the love of God, I can’t believe he tracked me.
No more. No more.
I walk with purpose and confidence, so no one stops me on the way to the library, not a soul coming between me and my mission to escape.
Escape, like I’m a caged animal. I stifle the sudden need to cry.
I look around me with a growing sense of loss. I don’t want to leave the comfort and security of Le Luxe. I don’t want to leave Thayer.
I like it here.
To think… I thought I loved him.
On the way to the library, I casually walk by the bank of offices on the first floor, near one of the playrooms. I know Nicolette told me her change of clothes, and the disguises and false identities, were close.
Bingo. Feeling like a kid escaping from a store with a candy bar, I find one that looks closest to my disguise and slide the false passport into my pocket.
When I reach the library, I close the door behind me.