“You can let me go now.”
“Oh, right,” I breathe out, dropping my hands to my side as heat creeps up my throat. I rub the back of my neck and take a step back, creating a safe distance between us. “Good night, Lux. Be ready to go tomorrow night by seven.”
Before she responds, I leave the garden.
I’m a confident man, but no woman has made me feel shy like she continuously does.
Chapter 20
Lux
After River leaves me in the gardens, I spend the rest of the night writing in my bedroom. River was right, this laptop is better than mine. After countless emails back and forth with my editor over the last week, she’s kind enough to grant me an extension on my current work in progress. Diving back into this fictional world, where I can guarantee a happy ending, feels good. I haven’t been able to write since the night Andrew abducted me. I’m not sure what has freed my mind now, but I’m feeling more relief.
With my notes and boards at home, I have to spend the time inserting my own rage and violation into my current female main character, which proves to be helpful since the words simply fly out of me. Slipping into the writing zone gives me a glimpse of the old Lux again—and I miss her. It feels good. Refreshing.
Around five in the morning, after writing ten thousand words, I put my laptop aside and fall asleep, waking up several hours later around dusk.
After taking a quick shower, I step onto the heated tile floor in the bathroom and stand in front of the sink. With a quick wipe of the condensation from the mirror, my reflection is revealed. Leaning over the counter, I catch the bags under my eyes. Shocked by my appearance, I draw back. I hope there’s some makeup in all those buckets the personal shopper dropped off.
Wrapped in a plush robe, I walk into the bedroom and straight for the items in the corner. It only takes me a second to find a bag filled with high-end beauty products. But then a quick buzz of my phone on the nightstand distracts me. I grab my phone and the bag, then swipe up on my phone while walking into the bathroom.
River: I’ll be in your room in an hour. Pack an overnight bag too.
My palms sweat. He’s coming to my room?
Dumping the bag onto the counter, I grab for anything I can find to make myself not look like I’ve been hit by a truck.
Me: I’ll be ready.
I finish getting myself dressed, then pack a few items off the clothing racks. Unsure of how long we’ll be gone, I throw as many things in the bag as I can. With only a few minutes to spare, I sit at the edge of the bed and wait for him—which I’m not the biggest fan of, but him sharing the plans with me last night makes me feel a little more included.
Exactly an hour later, I hear a soft knock on the bedroom door. My stomach flips with the anticipation of seeing River.
Climbing to my feet, I let out a heavy sigh from every nerve in my body.
“Hi,” River says, leaning against the door frame.
“H-hello,” I stammer, feeling all sorts of emotions.
“Ready?”
I nod, turning to grab my stuff, but he stops me, placing his hand over mine. “My assistant will grab that for you.”
“Oh, okay.”
“The jet is waiting for us outside.”
I’m not expecting that. “Like, outside of your house?”
“Yes.”
With my hand in his, he leads me down the hall and into the elevator, where we stand in silence until the metal doors slide open, exposing the damp, cool night air. We continue onto the short runway and approach the private plane.
The pilot stands at the base of the steps. “Hello, Mr. Thompson.”
“Captain Scott,” River greets him with a smile.
He leads us into the cabin. “We’ll land in Portland in under an hour,” he informs us before heading to his post.
