Page 29

I needed off this island.

Stat.

Stomping up the stairs, remembering that Jacob had mentioned keeping a radio in his office, I darted along the hallway until I reached his office. But my plan to radio for help was scuppered at the first hurdle.

The door was locked.

I rattled the handle, shoving my shoulder against the door in case it was stuck, but it didn’t budge. My shoulders slumped in defeat.

So much for being able to call for help in an emergency.

Attempting to focus on the book I was halfway through, I tried to ignore the nausea churning in my stomach after I forced myself to eat lunch. Pea soup. I was slowly beginning to believe that Wallace hated me and took secret pleasure in serving me food that he knew I despised.

To make matters worse, this time, Wallace had served it without any bread. I either put up with the worsening pains from lack of food or grit my teeth and attempt the disgusting soup.

I’d managed half the bowl before I gave up, not wanting to risk vomiting. The pain had eased a little, but I made a mental note to never skip future dinners in case Wallace decided to serve up his vile menu again.

Finally engrossed in the book—Wuthering Heights—I didn’t hear anyone enter the drawing room until a shadow fell over me. I glanced up, expecting to see Wallace, but finding Jacob hovering over me, a small, uncertain smile playing on his lips.

“Hi,” he said sheepishly. I closed the book, sighing, but before I could say anything, Jacob continued. “I know you’re angry at me, angel, but before we talk, I wondered if I could show you something.” He held his hand out to me, and when I only stared at it, his shoulders slumped, sadness glinting in his eyes. “Please, Charlotte. I want to make it up to you.”

Perhaps it was the lack of food that had quietened my anger, or maybe it was just having time away from Jacob; either way, I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Placing my hand in his, he pulled me to my feet and into his embrace, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Thank you.” He didn’t move for several seconds, his gaze roaming over my face as if he’d forgotten what I looked like.

And therein lay the problem.

When Jacob looked at me like that, like I was his everything, I forgot why I was mad at him. I forgot that he wanted to control me and dictate my future. For several short seconds, the only thing I wanted was Jacob.

Breaking the spell, he tugged my hand, leading me from the drawing room and up the stairs. When we neared his office, my heart began racing in trepidation. Did he know that I’d tried to get into his office? Had Wallace seen me?

To my relief, when he pulled me to a stop, it was outside the closed door opposite his office. I hadn’t been in this room before; when Jacob gave me the tour of the house on my first day here, he’d led me straight past it without any explanation. I’d just figured it was the room he used when he wasn’t sleeping in the main bedroom, or perhaps it was Wallace’s room.

Jacob turned me to face him, a crease marring his brow as he released a heavy sigh. “Angel, about yesterday. I should have explained myself, but you have to understand, this is hard for me to talk about.”

The pain lacing his voice was deafening, and I couldn’t help but release a little more of the anger I was holding on to. “What is?”

He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, heartbreak reflected in his eyes. “When I went to college, I had a friend, Amy. Well, she was more than a friend. We weren’t together or anything like that,” he rushed to add, releasing my hand. “It was purely platonic. But I loved her. She was like a best friend and sister rolled into one.”

He fell quiet, his gaze lowering as if he’d just been sucked into a different time in his life. “What happened?” I asked, unable to stop the question falling from my mouth.

He inhaled a sharp breath, and when he met my gaze again, they sparked with his unshed tears. “She went to a party one night on her own. I had the flu, and I begged her not to go, but...she went anyway. While she was there,” he swallowed as a grimace crossed his face.

I took his hand and squeezed it, hoping to offer a silent show of support, my gut telling me something bad had happened. Jacob’s fingers squeezed mine in return as he continued. “She was raped. Multiple times.”

My heart clenched, sorrow instantly building for a girl I’d never met, and for the pain Jacob was clearly still holding on to. “That’s awful. Did she go to the police?”

He released my hand to press his palms to his eyes. “She reported it the next day to staff on campus, but they talked her out of going to the police. The guys responsible were the stars of the football team. They were untouchable, and girls threw themselves at them. Amy knew she wouldn’t be believed, so she never told anyone else, except me. She made me swear to keep her secret.”

A blush coated his cheeks, almost as if he’d been hit by a wave of shame for betraying Amy by sharing her story with me.

“Where is she now? Do you still see her?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“No, angel.” He blew out a heavy breath. “She killed herself. She couldn’t live with what happened, so one night, she took a bunch of pills with a bottle of neat vodka and drove her car straight into a tree.”

The anguish in his tone was my undoing, and I closed the gap between us, pressing myself against him and wrapping my arms around his waist. “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m so sorry that happened to her and that you lost your friend.”

His lips pressed against the top of my head before he inhaled deeply, as if he was smelling my hair. “Thank you, angel.” Gently, he pulled back to look down at me. “That’s why I reacted the way I did yesterday. In a short space of time, you’ve become so much to me. More than what I felt for Amy. Like I said, she was a friend, but you…”