Page 11 of Consume Me

“I’m not one to judge.” She stepped to the side and smiled wider. The shadows of the corridor washed away everything but the whites of her eyes and her teeth.

I held my stomach tighter. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where I am.”

“The doctor insists on checking on the baby. You had a traumatic event and with the baby’s heart condition, a test would be prudent.”

My own heart shuttered to a stop. Whatever their warped files said, that was correct. They knew about the baby, so why lie about who I was? I couldn’t trust her. I couldn’t trust this doctor. But I was out of options. I’d tried the other doors. I’d combed every inch of space available to me. What other choice did I have if I wanted to see where one of those other doors led?

“And if I don’t cooperate?” I asked, already expecting her answer.

“I’ll have to sedate you.” The smile slipped replaced by a disapproving scowl. “The doctor is quite insistent these tests be performed.”

Sedation meant I wouldn’t see where they took me or who performed the tests. It meant losing out on valuable information. It meant I had to play along, even if I wanted to fight. But it also meant I’d be awake and if this doctor or anyone else tried to hurt me or the baby, they wouldn’t know what hit them. No one was going to hurt me or my child.

“Fine,” I agreed.

She moved into the doorway, her unsettling grin returning, and waited for me. The corridor looked the same. There was no open door. No sign of where she’d come from. I followed her a few paces before she paused at a door. Across the hall from my room and two down. I made a mental note. The nurse paused a second before a loud whir and click echoed through the empty space. It had been unlocked automatically by someone else. Someone who was watching us —that was going to make things more difficult.

“Why am I here?” I asked her again, hesitating at the threshold. Fear tugged at me from both sides. Whatever was on the other side of this door could be my salvation or my destruction. But staying put wasn’t an option. It was nothing more than the illusion of safety. No matter that I found on the other side, I could turn it to my advantage. I had to.

She patted my arm sympathetically, shaking her head. “That’s above my clearance.”

Clearance? That was an odd choice of words. I tucked the thought away. I needed to stay alert. I needed to figure out where I was and how to escape. Maybe that started with finding an ally.

“What’s your name?” I switched tactics. Norris told me once that people loved to talk about themselves. He’d said that friendly conversation spilled more secrets than interrogation. I hoped he was right—I hoped he was okay.

“June.” She hustled me through the door, still acting like this was a normal day at the office. But this wasn’t normal. None of it was, so how could she act like this?

As I walked through the unlocked door, things got stranger.

Chapter 5

ALEXANDER

I didn’t ask where we were going. I suspected I didn’t want to know. I’d meant it when I said I would do anything and partner with anyone to see Clara safely home. My body felt hollow as though some vital life force had been torn from me. In its place a flame flickered to life. I didn’t know where the spark had come from but it fueled me now. It drove me forward when most of me wanted to crumble from the loss. Perhaps, it was denial. Maybe it was love. I didn’t care as long as nothing extinguished it.

“Let’s take mine. The press will follow your cars,” Smith advised as we neared the private car park where a half dozen Range Rovers and a few other employee vehicles waited.

“You’re probably right,” I agreed. They would be camped out and more vicious than usual after news of my grandmother’s death leaked. “The last thing I need is an over-eager paparazzi to catch a photo of me meeting with a criminal.”

“How do you know I’m taking you to see a criminal?” Smith asked pulling keys from his pocket.

“I assume the devil isn’t a saint,” I said flatly.

I didn’t have to ask him which one was his. Another day I might have been impressed by the black Bugatti. Today, the ostentatious display of wealth didn’t register.

I was fire and ice—burning and numb at once.

“This won’t get noticed?” I asked, suddenly uncertain of his plan’s wisdom.

“It will get noticed,” Smith said with a hollow laugh. “But people will be staring at the car. Not you.”

It helped that the windows were tinted far beyond any legal limit. The engine roared to life as I slid into my seat. We left out a back gate, Smith pulling into the morning traffic smoothly. I averted my eyes, but I felt them there: the reporters, the gawkers, the tourists. They all wanted a glimpse of me—of my life.

A gate. A fence. Castle walls. They weren’t enough. I hated the lack of boundaries. I hated that every move I made had to be choreographed to avoid speculation. I hated that I’d assumed the throne to protect my family.

I hated the glass crown I wore—invisible but heavy, powerful but impotent. It meant nothing. None of this did. I’d chosen a life of duty and fate had rewarded me with pain.

Smith didn’t attempt conversation. We’d bandied theories and strategies with the others for hours. I needed time to be with my own thoughts. I suspected he did, too. But as we drove further, leaving the city behind, I was no closer to understanding what had happened.