Page 107 of Override
The guards. The cameras. The schedules. The restrictions. The arguments. Maybe this is what love looks like to him. Maybe he's scared. Maybe he's trying.
The thoughts arrive automatically now. Familiar. Comforting. Dangerous.
Ronan presses a kiss against my forehead. The gesture feels practiced. Then he steps away.
"Stay here." The words aren't a request.
They're an expectation. A command wrapped in concern. And before I can decide which one bothers me more, he's gone.
The bedroom door closes behind him. Silence immediately fills the space. I stand there for a long moment. Listening. Waiting. Eventually the sound of a car engine drifts up from the driveway below. Then another. Then nothing. Just silence.
I walk to the window. Watch the gates open. Watch Ronan's SUV disappear down the long winding drive. Watch the gates close again behind him.
Locking. Sealing. Containing. The estate suddenly feels enormous. And somehow smaller than ever.
I leave the bedroom an hour later. The staff nod politely as I pass. A housekeeper offers a smile. A guard opens a door. Everyone is kind. Everyone is professional. No one actually speaks to me. Not really. Because conversations imply familiarity.
Friendship. Choice. The staff works here. The guards answer to Ronan. And I...I don't seem to belong anywhere anymore.
By the time I reach the library, the loneliness has lodged itself somewhere I can't quite reach, heavy enough to ache.
I glance toward my phone. Before I can talk myself out of it, I open the message thread.
My thumbs hover over the keyboard.
Me:
Tell me something exciting.
I hit send. Deciding that was probably a strange thing to say. The response takes less than a minute.
Taibhse:
That is alarmingly vague.
A smile tugs at my mouth.
Me:
I'm aware.
Three dots appear. Disappear.
Taibhse:
Are you being held hostage?
I laugh despite myself. But…if I am not allowed to leave does that mean I am being held hostage?
Me:
No.
A second later.
Taibhse:
Should I interpret this as a cry for help?
