Dangerous Exile by K.J. Jackson
{ Chapter 12 }
It was what needed to be done.
He’d panicked, true. And this had been the first place he could think of where Ness would be free from harm. The last place anyone would look for her.
Above everything else, she needed to be safe.
Leaning forward, Talen pulled aside the curtain in the carriage and watched the retreating large, pale pink monstrosity of a building. A giant rectangle, pink stone. Even the outside of the place looked like it was trying to pretend everything was fine.
When it wasn’t.
That had been clear the moment Ness had figured out where he’d brought her.
Her reaction? That wasn’t fine. Not in the slightest.
And it had him staring at the building quickly shifting out of view.
Everything that he knew of Ness had just been flipped. She had inhuman ability to withstand the worst pain. She was strong. Or wanted to be. That she’d even admitted to wanting to be strong had taken courage he hadn’t thought she possessed.
And he’d seen, day after day, what she was willing to do to make that happen—doing everything he asked of her.
Lift books to strengthen her muscles? He’d walked into her room several times a day, only to find her stretched out on the floor, doing that very thing.
Come directly at a blade instead of cowering from it? Again and again she’d lurched toward him, hitting his arm from the side before he could take a swing.
Smash every movable item in his office across his head? That…that she probably actually enjoyed.
All of it was against her nature, but she did it. Did it because she’d discovered a well of courage deep within. Did it because she refused to ever be a victim to her own inaction again.
Her fight against the two fops cornering her in the hallway at the Alabaster was testament to the fierce spirit within her that had been unleashed.
But there—in that retreating building, she wasn’t fine. All of her courage had deserted her, turning her into a blubbering mess, begging on the floor.
The asylum slipped out of view and he let the curtain fall back into place.
Ness would be safe in the madhouse. Her arm would finish healing. No one would find her. It was the best place for her at the moment. The room had been simple, but private, far from the sounds of the other patients. And he’d paid handsomely to have her taken care of well, her every need more than met. He only needed a few days, a week at most, to find the men that had been looking for her and either turn them against her husband, or have them removed from England, or dispose of them, if that’s what it took.
Above all else, Ness would be protected.
Still, four little words she’d uttered haunted him.
Not like my mother.
She’d said the words brutally, like she’d dredged them up from a raw, deep wound that she’d had to tear open. Tear open for him.
And the despair that had been in her eyes had pinpointed onto him, as though he was the one that had just inflicted some horrifying terror upon her.
He didn’t care for it. He wasn’t the one looking to own her, to kill her. He was the one wanting to keep her safe.
But the accusation had been there in her eyes. How could he do this when he knew full well he was the only person she trusted at the moment?
How could he do this—of all things—to her?
It didn’t make any sense. He shook his head, the drama of her reaction worming far too fast into his head when he’d already made up his mind.
Stay the course.
It was just a room he’d put her in. A simple room where she would be taken care of. Warmth, food, drink. All of her basic needs met. Everything she had at the Alabaster, though not as opulent.
He’d even had his driver bring into the caretaker a crate of the books Ness had been reading. Strips of ribbons marking pages in a dozen books. She wouldn’t be bored.
Sure, the adjoining rooms were full of the mad and insane, but she had to see that this was the safest place for her. Didn’t she?
He closed his eyes and the instant image of her betrayed, tear-filled eyes engulfed his mind.
He held the image in his head for a long moment, then inhaled a deep breath, capturing it in his chest before it escaped in a long sigh.
His eyes opened and he shifted, banging on the top of the carriage.
“Bring it back around, Tom,” he shouted, and the carriage instantly slowed.
“Right away, sir.”
Talen sat back against the cushions as Tom went a stretch farther before he could turn the carriage about.
Dread filled his chest with every clomp of the horses’ hooves on the gravel of the drive back to the asylum.
There was one other place he could take her.
He didn’t want to do it. Shouldn’t do it. Hell, it was idiotic to do so. But she’d be safe there.
Within minutes he was back at her door in the asylum, watching the caretaker turn the key in the lock. He pushed past the older woman as soon as the lock cleared and strode into the room.
Ness sat on the floor, unmoved from where he’d left her, now crumpled into a ball, her face hidden under her right arm, sobbing to herself.
She didn’t even bother to look up at the sound of his footfalls by her head.
He dropped down to rest on his heels, his fingers dropping, drifting lightly into her hair along the side of her head.
She jerked into herself, then shifted her arm covering her face, peering up at him with visceral terror in her amber eyes.
She blinked hard, disbelieving it was him.
He held his open palm out to her right hand. “Come.”
It took her three full breaths before she lifted her hand, her fingers shaking as she set them into his grasp.
What he was doing was stupid. But stupid had its place. And apparently, this was it.