The Enemy in My Bed by L.K. Shaw

Chapter 15

Mila

Pierce hasn’t returned.Which has given me plenty of time to think. Just one more reason for me to hate this prison I’m in. I don’t want to think. Thinking only leads to regrets.

To fear.

To what ifs.

The alarm on the front door disengages, and it swings opens. Thank god, thinking time is over. Except it’s not Pierce who steps through.

It’s someone I never expected to meet again. I rise from my seat on the couch. She strides purposefully through the entryway while a lone, suit-clad man behind her closes the door. He remains at the entrance, hands crossed at his waist.

Brenna looks completely different than the last time we were together. Her red hair falls in waves over her shoulders. Shoulders that aren’t naked. Her clothes are relatively casual—a pretty olive green blouse with puffed sleeves and cream slacks—but, like her husband, there’s an aura of power surrounding her. Not as bright as his, but certainly noticeable.

I’m fully aware of my own ill-fitting, and far too casual, t-shirt and scandalously short shorts. My fingers pat my messy hair in a self-conscious gesture. Brenna stops only a few feet from me and a kind smile crosses her face.

“I’m glad to see you,” she says.

To my complete surprise, she closes the short distance between us and pulls me in for a hug. I can’t help but return the embrace. Against my will, tears spring to my eyes. Maybe she has some sort of agenda for being here. Who knows? It just feels good to be hugged.

She pulls back and meets my gaze. There are tears in her eyes as well. We both laugh, me self-consciously, and release each other to wipe the wetness away.

“I’m really happy you’re all right,” I tell her. I am, too. I’m glad that Mikhail hadn’t been able to hurt her more than he had.

Her expression turns serious, and she reaches for my hand, pulling me down onto the couch to sit next to her. “What about you? Are you okay? How are you being treated?”

“I’m fine,” I lie. I’m not sure exactly why she’s here, but until I discover the reason, I’ll play a role.

“Oh my gosh. You saved my life, which I never got to thank you for, and I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Mila,” I tell her, gently pulling my hand from hers. I’m not entirely comfortable with her apparent kindness.

“I’m Brenna.” She glances around the living room. “I had no idea my husband owned this house.”

I don’t say anything, because I’m not sure she expects a reply.

“I understand Pierce has been keeping you prisoner.” There’s no disguising the bite of anger in her tone.

Again, I’m not sure what I should say. Is she here to gain my trust? Is this yet another mind game he’s using to fuck with me? It seems like something he would do.

Her eyes scan my face, and her expression shifts. “Considering how you’ve probably been treated, I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk to me. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that you’re being held here. It’s not right. I just want you to know that I’m going to do what I can to help you.”

“Brenna,” a deep voice growls from the doorway. It’s filled with a warning.

We both jerk in that direction. Standing there, with a dark expression, is her husband. His jaw is tight and there’s anger radiating off his powerful frame. I glance at the woman next to me. Her body is rigid. Is she afraid he’ll hit her? Is she not supposed to be here?

Her husband makes his way toward us, his steps booming on the hardwood, and his wife rises almost casually. I scramble to my feet as well, not liking being at an obvious disadvantage. He stops directly in front of her, his eyes darting in my direction, before returning to his wife. I can’t be sure, but they seem to soften for a moment before hardening once more.

“I thought I told you to leave it alone,” he says in a low tone.

“Oh, yes, because keeping a woman locked up against her will is the organization’s business.” There is so much disdain in the way she nearly sneers the word. “You must not know me if you really thought that I was going to just let this go. Especially after speaking that way to me in front of Pierce. What happened to respect?”

I quickly jump forward. “I’m not here against my will.”

There have been far too many things in my life I’ve been responsible for. This woman getting in trouble won’t be one of them.

The two of them turn their heads in my direction, and I shift nervously, clearing my throat, my hands fidgeting at my sides. Her—Brenna’s—expression is one of confusion and disbelief, while her husband’s is thoughtful.

“I’m not sure who you think you’re protecting by trying to get me to believe that, but everyone in this room knows you’re not here by choice,” she says gently before she swivels her head to glare at the man at her side.

“Brenna,” he says again, only there’s resignation in his tone this time.

“Jacob,” she snaps right back, undeterred. “This is my business. Mila is my business. I was the one tied to that table. Mila was the one who got me out. The one who saved my life. And you’re letting Pierce keep her locked up in here. For what? Because she’s Russian? Because you think you can get something from her?”

Brenna turns and faces me, shutting her husband out entirely. “I’ll be back in a couple days to visit. Is there anything I can bring you to make you more comfortable? Anything you might need?”

My gaze darts back and forth between her and her husband, whose fierce and intense expression terrifies me. I shake my head. “No, really, I’m fine. I have everything I need,” I rush to assure her. “It’s a lovely house. I’m enjoying the garden very much.”

I don’t care for how he’s studying me, but Brenna’s gaze is gentle. I’m not sure if I’ve managed to fool her or not, but I’ll say anything so she doesn’t get into trouble with her husband.

“Maybe when I come over next, you and I can do a little gardening.”

I give her my best smile. “That would be nice.”

For the second time, she hugs me. Then, with an almost regal bearing, Brenna turns and strides straight past her husband and through the entryway. The suit sends a questioning glance at his boss, who waves him on. He opens the door, and the two of them exit through it, leaving me alone with this intimidating, and slightly scary, man.

He turns to face me. I desperately want to separate the distance between us, but I manage to hold my ground, bracing myself for whatever happens next.

“I would never hurt her.”

That’s certainly not what I expected him to say.

“While I appreciate your attempt at lying,” he continues, “you should know that I would never raise a hand to Brenna. Thank you for trying to protect her. Again.”

Pierce’s boss pivots, and before I have time to process what just happened, he disappears out the front door as well, the familiar beeping signaling he’s re-engaged the alarm. He’s grateful to me, but not enough to forget I’m still a prisoner.