Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
No matter what, I can’t let this man consume me. He doesn’t care about me or my heart even when he says he does. It’s all lies to make me submit. Because that’s what it’s all about to him … my submission … my defeat.
He wants to see me on my knees as a testament to his win.
I won’t let it happen.
By the time I’ve gone through all my stuff, leaving the room littered with clothes, brushes, makeup, and shoes, the only thing I’ve managed to find are a few bobby pins I cast aside the moment I came home from the wedding and took down my hair. But maybe they can be useful to pry open doors … or windows.
I slide across the room and immediately start working on the lock around the window, pushing the bobby pin into the hole. It keeps bending out of shape, but I won’t give up. I’ll keep at it the entire night if it means freedom is on the other end.
After prying for about ten minutes, something clicks, and the lock pops open. My eyes widen, and a smile brighter than the goddamn sun spreads on my face. “Yes!” I murmur to myself.
With two hands, I push open the window and stick my head out, checking to see if anyone’s there. I close my eyes for a second, breathing in the fresh air that’s enticing me to jump.
Maybe I should. Is there a ledge?
I check and find nothing but a few branches entwined in a wooden trellis placed up against the wall. It could function as a ladder, but I won’t know until I try. What do I have to lose? My life’s already been given away. Time to take a leap of faith.
I position one leg over the windowsill and place my foot on the wooden structure and push down firmly to see if it’ll budge. When it remains solid enough, I add another leg while still holding the window frame. Even though it creaks like crazy, it doesn’t break apart. Maybe I can climb down safely and then see how I can escape the property.
As my fingers release the window so I can concentrate on my footing, the door to my room opens, and someone bursts inside. “Hey, I just wanted to see if you were okay. Easton said you two had—”
It’s Jill. And she’s caught me right as I’m trying to escape.
Chapter 17
Charlotte
In a split second, our eyes meet, and hers fill with a kind of despair I’ve never seen before. Jill screams out loud. I almost let go of the wooden structure in shock but manage to recapture myself and clench my fingers around it. That’s when I move. As fast as a rat trying to escape its cage, I shimmy down the trellis along the prickly vines that grow up against the walls of the mansion. The thorns scratch me everywhere, and my bathrobe rips after it catches on one of the thorns. But the fabric of my robe is the least of my worries with Jill’s head hanging out the window.
“Charlotte! No! Come back here!” she screeches. “You’ll fall!”
But I’m completely transfixed by the freedom within my reach. Consequences be damned, even the repercussions of what I’m doing are real. Escaping endangers both my father’s and my life, but when I find him, I’m going to keep him safe. That’s a promise I’ll make to myself right here, right now as I’m fleeing for my life.
The moment my feet touch the ground, they take me away from the castle as if they have their own mind. In mere slippers, I manage to cross the garden and run through the grass and beautiful flowers along the thick trees and bushes scattered across the property until I come to an overwhelming fence that’ll be impossible to climb. What now?
I spin around to try to find a way out. Another gate is not far from here, but my surroundings are suspiciously quiet and devoid of guards. They must be somewhere watching, right? Or are they taking a break now, and it’s this the only time I could ever possibly escape?
With Jill probably rushing down to alert them, there’s no time to think about it, so I run toward the gates with the speed of a gazelle. My bathrobe barely stays together, but that’s the last thing I care about right now as I sprint toward the gates. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
The moment I reach it, I grab it with both hands and start climbing. It takes me a few tries to get my feet on spots that allow me to push forward, but I refuse to give up. I’m not ready to give up hope or the freedom that lies beyond these gates. If only I could push just a little farther. I’m so close I can almost taste it.