CIARA
Waking up, I’m surprised when I don’t see Santiago, Dr. Pires, or Emma, the nurse.
Yesterday, Emma told me I’ve been at the hospital for two weeks. She also gave me the date, and I tried to work out how long Nolan had me. I think it was for nine months.
I’m again struck with shock, and a forlorn emotion ghosts through my chest.
Things are very confusing, and I’m struggling to make sense of everything.
A few days ago, I was given slacks, T-shirts, and underwear. It’s much better than the dresses Nolan forced me to wear. But even though the clothes are neatly packed into the closet, I always wait for Santiago to tell me I’m allowed to shower and change into clean clothes.
Deep down, I’m aware I’m no longer with Nolan, and I’m in a safe place, but my mind struggles to process it. I’m constantly on edge, feeling like it will all change within seconds, and I’m terrified of Santiago. I don’t trust his smiles and kind words, because when I look into his eyes, I see the danger lurking in them.
Dr. Pires and Emma always listen to him, so it’s clear his word is law around here. Wherever here is?
I sit up in bed and stare at the open door.
Drawing my bottom lip between my teeth, I climb off the bed and inch my way closer to the doorway. Once again, I’m aware that there’s no chain around my ankle. At first, I could still feel it there, even though I knew it wasn’t tied around my ankle. But with time, the sensation faded.
When I peek into the hallway, I don’t see anyone, and I quickly tiptoe in the direction I think the exit might be.
Suddenly, Emma turns up the hallway, but she instantly stops walking and smiles at me. “Come, Ciara. It’s okay.”
I move closer to the wall and press my hand against it as I cautiously walk toward her.
No one has hurt me since I’ve been here.
They’re letting me do things for myself.
I keep repeating the words as the nurses’ station comes into view.
When my eyes flick to the windows and open glass doors, Emma says, “It’s okay. You can go outside.”
My gaze darts between her and the door before I carefully move forward. When I manage to step outside without being grabbed by someone, I quickly glance around me.
My lips part in shock when I see a road with many small houses to my left. There are people talking and laughing, and it feels as if I’ve stepped into an alternate universe.
When I turn my head, my gaze falls on Santiago, where he’s standing to my right, leaning his shoulder against the wall of the hospital.
Fear pours into my chest, and I freeze in place, my breathing instantly turning shallow.
“Hi, Ciara,” he says, his tone deceptively gentle. “Would you like to go for a walk?”
Am I allowed to?
He pushes away from the wall, and as he closes the distance between us, I notice the pair of pumps in his hand. He sets the shoes down beside me, then tilts his head. “Put them on.”
Staring at the shoes, I’m overcome with an intense emotion I can’t name. My chin quivers, and I suck in a shaky breath.
“I haven’t had shoes in a really long time,” I whisper. “Is it really okay for me to put them on?”
“Yes,” he answers, his voice sounding a little rougher than usual. When I dare to glance at him, he gives me an encouraging smile. “It will make me very happy if you put on the shoes.”
My muscles are incredibly tense as I push my feet into the pumps.
Suddenly, Santiago starts to walk, and when I stare after him, he calls, “Come, Ciara.”
I hurry to catch up, staying a step behind him. I glance down at the tattoos covering his forearms, but I can’t make out what the images are.
When we get close to one of the houses where two women are standing, watching us, I focus my gaze on my feet.
No one talks to us, and I’m surprised when we keep walking for a long while. Santiago turns left, and soon, the houses fall behind us, and we head up a hill.
When we reach the top, my legs are burning from all the exercise, and I struggle to catch my breath.
Santiago finally stops walking then says, “Look behind you.”
Glancing over my shoulder, my mouth drops open when I see the entire village.
“A hundred and fifty-nine people live here.” He comes to stand slightly to my side, his eyes locking on my face. “They’ve all suffered some kind of trauma. We have group sessions on the premises, and I think you should consider attending one.”
With my eyes still locked on all the houses, I whisper, “Group sessions?”
“It’s a session where you can talk to women who’ve been through something similar to you. Maybe it will help if you open up a little.”
I wrap my arms around my middle and turn my head away from Santiago, only for my gaze to land on a beautiful villa. From where I’m standing, I can see a pool, a veranda, and lots of plants.
“That’s my home,” Santiago murmurs. “Come.”
He begins to walk toward the villa, and I follow him down the hill.
When we walk past the pool, I see lounge chairs. There are also comfortable-looking armchairs and wrought iron tables.
Movement catches my eyes, and the instant I see another man, panic and terror rip through my chest. I swing around and run away as fast as I can, but the next second, the ground disappears beneath my feet, and I’m engulfed by cold water as I fall into the pool.
I begin to kick my legs, but then an arm wraps around me, and my body is hauled to the surface. I gasp for air as my vision focuses on Santiago’s face, which is mere inches from mine.
I jerk back, and I’m surprised when he lets me swim to the shallow end. I hear Santiago behind me as I step onto the dry outdoor tiles.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I shiver as I turn around. Santiago comes toward me, his clothes plastered to his muscled body.
Once again, it sinks in that he’s the complete opposite of Nolan. Santiago looks very strong, which tells me he can hurt me so much more than Nolan did.
I cower, ducking my head low, as I wait for him to lash out at me. But he doesn’t. Instead, he just walks past me, saying, “Let’s get out of our wet clothes.”
I hesitate, and my eyes dart to where I saw the other man, but there’s no one there now.
Santiago stops between two pillars where there’s an entrance to the villa and watches me.
I turn my head and look at all the small houses in the village, and it’s only then that I realize I’m not chained because there are so many people to keep an eye on me.
I’ll never escape this place.
Knowing I have no other choice, I hold myself tighter as I walk to where Santiago is waiting and follow him into the villa. I keep glancing around, taking in the extravagant décor. There are statues of women and plants in the wide hallway, and when I look over my shoulder, I see a living room with leather couches.
As we head farther down the hallway, we pass a number of shut doors before heading up a beautiful, cream marble staircase.
Even though Santiago’s home is beautiful and vastly different from the house Nolan kept me in, I don’t let down my guard for a single second.
When we reach the landing at the top, my eyes lock on a beautiful wooden trunk. It looks nothing like the one at Nolan’s house, and I stop to stare at it. Where Nolan’s was made of dark wood, this one is caramel with patterns carved into it.
“Do you like it?” Santiago asks.
I tear my gaze away from the trunk and look down the the gleaming tiles, noticing the puddle of water that’s formed around my feet.
When I don’t answer his question, he just continues to walk, and I follow him, my shoes squeaking loudly.
I’m taken into a bedroom, and I lose my ability to breathe when I see the big bed with white silk covers, a white dressing table with a high-back chair, plants on either side of a window seat, and French doors that open out onto a balcony.
The luxury reminds me of home, and a lump forms in my throat. I haven’t thought about Dad in a really long time, and I try not to think of Grace, because it hurts too much.
Even if Santiago allowed me to contact her, I never memorized her new phone number and wouldn’t know how to get in touch with her.
“Don’t you like the room?” Santiago asks.
I swallow hard before whispering, “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s yours.”
My eyes fly to his face, and seeing his wet hair and how much more handsome it makes him look, I quickly glance away again.
It doesn’t matter what Santiago looks like. Nolan came across as normal. Enough for my father to hire him as a guard.
Not all vile men look like monsters on the outside.
“Are you okay with this bedroom?” Santiago asks.
I just nod.
“There are clothes for you in the walk-in closet, and you’ll find everything you need in the bathroom. Shower and put on dry clothes.”
I nod again, then listen as he walks out of the room. When I don’t hear the door shut, I glance over my shoulder.
He’s not locking me inside.
I take off the shoes before I tiptoe to the door, and peeking into the hallway, I see Santiago go into another room.
I glance down the other side of the hallway and don’t see anyone.
He left me alone?
I quickly hurry in the direction of the stairs, but then I glance over the banister, and seeing a man dressed in a black combat uniform, I come to a sudden halt. He’s carrying a machine gun, like the ones our guards used to have back home.
My heartbeat speeds up, and before the man can notice me, I run back to the bedroom and quickly shut the door.
I take a few steps backward, then spin around and rush to the French doors. I yank them open, and stepping out onto the balcony, I glance over the massive backyard that doesn’t seem to end. My fear grows when I count more than a dozen guards.
Oh God. This place is heavily guarded.
There’s a heavy feeling in my gut because I won’t ever be able to escape.
