The Billionaire’s Bride by L. Steele
31
"My happiest moments are in a car. Looking out the window, the music on full blast, without a care in the world. I just like watching the world go by. I get this overwhelming feeling as I pass fields upon fields or people upon people. It’s like I’m in a film. And then, that perfect song comes on and the sun shines and it’s pure happiness."
-From Ava's Diary
Ava
My head pounds and my mouth is so dry. I swallow and my throat hurts. I try to move and my shoulder screams. I try to open my eyes, only to find my eyelids are glued together. I pry them apart, and stars burst behind my eyes. I groan, and the sound echoes around the space. Where am I? What the hell happened? I remember being in the car... The deer... I’d veered off the road. I remember the headlights of the car lighting up the tree and then… Nothing. Shit, I must have crashed. So how did I get here? I try to move, find my arms are bound behind me. I glance down to find my legs are tied to the legs of the chair that I am seated on. What the hell?
My heart begins to race. Had they found me? The men who had assaulted me, then broken into the studio... Had they finally gotten to me? It must have been them who chased me on the highway. And I’d thought it was my guys. Shit, if only it had been Baron and Edward who had been after me. I never should have left the house…but they hadn’t included me in their decisions and I had been so mad. Shit, had they realized that I was gone? Would they come in search of me? Of course, they would, but how quickly could they find me?
A bead of sweat slides down my back.
I glance around the space, taking in the rest of the room. High ceilings, walls which must have been white at one point but which are now a faded gray. Near the doorway there's a pile of cloth—looks like faded carpet. Had someone bought the material with the hope of doing up this room, then abandoned it? A ray of sunlight filters in through the only window, and motes of dust dance in its path. I stare at them, watch as they are highlighted by the sunshine, only to disappear.
Shit, life really is fleeting. Time doesn’t wait for anyone. It hadn’t for my mother. She's gone, and we are left grappling in the aftermath. A family broken and grieving for her, yet unable to come together to comfort each other. My father had done the right thing. He’d moved on, not from my mother, but from wallowing in self-pity. He’ll never forget her and he’s chosen to honor her memory by living.
And me? I am still stuck there—in my head, a girl without a mother, someone who misses her so much, and yet, has refused to spend time with her family. I’ve rebuffed my sister at every turn, not wanting to comfort her or let myself be comforted. I’ve allowed my selfishness to override everything else. I’ve clung to my grief, nurtured it, not allowed anyone or anything to touch it. I’ve held it close, reveled in it, thinking as long as I had it, I had a connection with my mother. I am still holding onto the memory of how it was to be with her. As long as I house that grief in me… At least, I have some last vestige of connection to her physically… I haven’t wanted to move on and I have blamed my family for dealing with it, for coming to terms with it, for wanting to honor her memory by staying in the present. Me… I am still stuck there…with her…the memory of the last breath that she took.
And then, when I had been so attracted to both of them, it had only pushed me to withdraw into myself. No wonder I hadn’t been able to make sense of my feelings for both of them. No wonder I hadn’t been able to choose. How could I, when so much of me was still trapped in coming to terms with the grief in my life? The grief I am ready to relinquish.
No, I won’t forget my mother…but... I am ready to live for her… Ready to make her proud of me. To fulfill my potential completely, to let my true nature shine in everything I do. Whether it is dancing…or love. I am going to give it my all… I am finally ready to make my choice. I know what I want. I know who I want to spend the rest of my life with, and no asshole kidnappers are going to come between me and the kind of life I have always wanted.
Heat presses down on my shoulders and sweat beads my forehead. Why is it so hot? Did they crank up the heating in here? I glance outside at the sun shining through the window, the warmth amplified by the glass panes. Where are Baron and Edward? Do they know where to look? If they don’t find me… No, they will. They are smart. More than smart, they are tenacious. They’ll track me down. They wouldn’t let anything happen to me.
My palms sweat. I tug on the ropes that restrain my hands, but it only seems to tighten them further. Shit, whoever tied me up knew what they were doing. I force myself to relax my muscles, blinking away the sweat that drips into my eyes. Why the hell is it like a sauna in here?
A low vibration hums through the space and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Shit, what was that? What the hell is happening? I strain my ears, close my eyes, and try to focus in on the sounds. The scent of smoke reaches me. I cough, snap open my eyes. Is someone smoking out there? The scent of burning intensifies. Bloody hell, is the house on fire? My heart begins to race. "Help," I yell, "Help me!"
I tug on my ropes, yank at them, but they don’t give. I push down with my feet, managing to move the chair slightly. My muscles protest. Sweat pours down my face. Shit, this is not good, not good. "Help," I cry out again. There’s silence, except for the crackling sound, which I swear, has grown louder. The heat in the room pushes down on my chest, my shoulders. My throat closes; the band around my chest tightens. Shit, if there's a fire, am I going to stay here like a sitting duck? I stare at the door, then back at the window. If only I could creep a little closer. Surely, the air nearer to the pane would be fresher?
I push against the floor, leaning toward the window. This time the chair moves a little more. I force myself to push again, and again. My breath catches, panting. I focus on the window pane. I’ve managed to move, maybe a few inches. It’s just the angle at which I have been tied to the chair—it’s all wrong. OMG! I am going to burn in here. Shit, shit, shit.
Why are the guys not here? Surely, they should have figured out where I am by now? And if they haven't? What if there are no clues to lead them here? What if they have no idea where to look?
Tendrils of smoke slitherin from under the door frame and I cry out. "Please, no," I gasp, "no, no, no." I push against the floor, leaning in the direction of the window. Pretend it's a belly dance, but one where you are burdened with weights. Where your arms and legs are bound and it’s up to you how well you can put the muscles you’ve gained thus far to use.
I undulate my hips, wriggle my torso, even as I push my heels into the ground and careen to the right. With a screech the chair moves toward the window. I repeat the action, and again. My head pounds, my heart hammers so hard against my chest that I am sure it’s going to break through my ribcage. I pant, draw in a breath and cough. I panic as I realize the room is filling with smoke. Shit. My eyes water and my pulse thuds at my temples. Damn, if I am going to go down without a fight. I lean my torso to the right, push off with my feet. This time, the chair careens to the right, then tips over. "No…" I scream as the chair hits the floor, my cheek smashes into the wooden planks, the reverberations sweep through me, and the hammering in my head intensifies. "No…please." I sob, "No, I don’t want to die like this. Please."
