CHAPTER 13
"Why should I leave my own house? Care to explain?" Fear hides behind the bold voice I make as I talk to Patrick on the phone.
"Because you're one hell of a hard-headed woman I've ever met! Fuck you, Mia! What were you thinking going to that fucking cabin in the woods with your bodyguard? Just the two of you, Mia! Are you fucking kidding me?" Patrick goes ballistic, anger reverberating through the speakers of my phone.
I swallow hard. How the fuck does he find out about everything I do? Well, maybe not everything, but most of them. Who did he talk to this time? Red? No, I doubt. Maybe he spoke to Bill.
"And so what?" I retort. "What different does it make whether I'm with my bodyguard or any other person in this place?" I open the balcony doors with too much pressure than actually needed.
"Oh, it surely does, Mia! I cannot let my wife stay under the same roof with some fucker, you hear?" Patrick lashes. "You sent Bill away just to be with him, didn't you?"
What the fuck! I feel angered even more at the way he speaks.
"And what are you insinuating, you asshole?" I snap, even though I've got no right to feel transgressed by his allegation.
I'm not innocent.
"I don't want to say it out loud because I do trust you, Mia." His voice turns low and less judicial. "I know you're not some sleazy woman like Elena who—"
"Stop, Patrick, I don't want to hear anything about your ex-wife!" I bark, for it's the last thing I need right now. "If you trust me as you say then stop this nonsense! You know I need this moment, don't you? I need to feel peaceful and this is the only place I get to think things through." The rainy breeze hits my skin as I reach outside the balcony.
"But under those circumstances, Mia? Dammit! How should I explain myself to you that I can't stand the idea of you being alone with any other man except me!" Patrick's words makes me huff with amusement despite feeling vexed.
He's so shameless!
"Oh, you don't say," I remark, folding my one arm on the chest. "So the Baron can fool around with his mistresses, his ex-wife, and God knows who else, but I can't even sleep under the same roof with another man, right?"
"Mia—"
"Have you considered that I could've had a threesome with Bill and Red together if your problem is the fact that I'm with one of them alone?" I mutter, highly annoyed by his patronizing and overbearing persona.
"Mia, don't you dare speak to me like that!" Patrick roars. "Just because I give in to whatever you want doesn't mean you can talk to me whoever you please! Don't test my patience." The menace in his voice sends me chills as I heave a soft breath.
No, I can't let him control my life more than he already does.
"I'm the one who gives in to everything you want, Patrick! I'm the one who's got no say as long as the Baron decides what's good for everyone around him! If you think I'm not what you want me to be, then divorce me!" I say, my heart beating fast against my chest.
Silence fills the line . . . A deep deafening silence that makes me shiver with fright and curiosity. I can't even hear his breath.
Please say something, Patrick. I beg inwardly, my patience so little as I want to get this done so badly that it hurts.
I finally hear a deep sigh before Patrick says, "Go home, Mia. Take your things and go home. I'm not having this discussion with you. Not now. Not ever!" He's done.
"And what if I don't?" I croak, letting the tears linger in my eyes at this feel of being trapped without a cage. I'm like a bird that’s lost her wings— I want to fly away, but I know I can’t.
"If you don't, someone else will pay for it, Mia. I won't hesitate firing him for not letting me know that he is with my wife, all alone with her. I'll get rid of him and I won't think twice," Patrick says articulately, every letter of his words loud and satirically clear.
"You wouldn't dare, Patrick!" My lips tremble as my blood boils inside from fear and rage. I hold onto the handrails for support. "We have an agreement that you'll never touch my employees!" My voice is heavy.
"Oh?" Patrick utters sardonically.
"Butler Lucas, Mrs. Einstein, Bill, and Red . . ." I shiver at the mention of my bodyguard's name from my own lips. "They're mine and you're never going to touch them; you promised me this, Patrick."
"Maybe I did, Mia. But that depends on you and how you behave. The choice is yours, sweetheart; you either leave that place, or he loses his job. Both he and Bill," Patrick tells me and I don't doubt his honesty.
I press my lips together, maintaining my inner equilibrium, and then I take a deep breath.
"Just one day," I say, my voice low and defeated. "I just need today to rest."
"Tomorrow. First thing tomorrow morning you're living that place," he deadpans.
I shut my eyes for a moment, taking in his order with clear mind. He's holding my life. This bastard is the boss of me. I try not to cry; I shouldn't cry.
“Are we clear, Mia?” he snaps.
"I hate you," I mutter and hang up right away. "I really hate you, Patrick Kingston. Damn you!" My whole body shakes enraged, I hold the wooden handrails tightly, gritting my teeth.
I'm paying for my choices.
Red is in the kitchen as I make some hopeless, distraught steps through the utterly silent living room. The beaming daylight is the sign of no more rain for at least a good while. I'm feeling horrible inside.
Shirtless, the back of his a beautiful work of art— perfect craftsmanship of his intense workouts— Red takes my morbid breath away as I still in the kitchen entrance, leaning onto the wall with my eyes on him.
I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the possibility of losing him in anyway. If he gets fired I'll never see him again. Oh and what if Patrick does worse than firing him? For all I know I've married a ruthless man capable of more.
Perhaps it's time I stop this affair while I still can. I had a great time with Red but I'm aware it's something worthwhile, not a lifetime. I've got no talisman to protect him, and I'm so afraid of him getting hurt in any way.
"Hey, you must be pretty hungry, huh?" Red's voice manages to prop my drowning attention. I smile weakly and stride in. "What's wrong?" He frowns at my sullen expression.
I fail to say anything, for everything feels wrong right now. I falling for him this hard is wrong. He looking at me as if I'm the last woman standing is so wrong. And this perfect feeling of ethereal connection between us is wrong, too.
"Mia—" Red starts but I don't let him finish as I'm soon hurling into his arms. "What—" He pauses when I hug him tight.
His arms enwrap me without another word, bemusement evident through his silence. I bury my face onto his chest, shutting my weeping eyes as though I won't survive a second without feeling him this closer to me.
"What happened, Mia?" Red asks gently after a full minute or so of embracing me with so much attention. I don’t answer; I just want to last in his arms forever. "Did you talk to him?" he asks again.
I pull out if his arms upon the question, sniffling. "How do you know that?" I wipe my unshed tears with the back of my hands, trying hard to look composed.
I hate crying!
"It's this look," Red says, staring at me with narrowed eyes, his jaw tight. "It's the same look you have every time you talk to him."
Oh, how observant! I sigh.
"It's nothing," I mutter, watching the bowl of eggs he was beating a moment ago.
"Do you love him, Mia?" Red asks and I'm quite startled by the question. What the heck! He looks compulsively serious nonetheless.
I flame under his intense, demanding gaze, my throat suddenly dry. I swallow my saliva, thinking of his unexpected question.
Do I still love my husband? I firm my eyes on Red. Whatever my answer is, I don't have the guts to tell him.
"I'm a married woman who's cheating on her husband. I'm sleeping with my bodyguard. Can you trust the words of this type of a woman, Red?" I ask. Red scowls with narrowed eyes, looking confused. "Or could it be that you're finding her cheap and easy already?" I should go back to my room.
Red holds my hand before I turn back toward the exit. As always I feel electrified by his touch.
"I don't know what's happening but there's no way I'll ever feel those things about you, Mia," he says calmly, our eyes locked. "You're an amazing woman that he doesn't deserve. Damn, even I don't deserve you, Mia." He's exasperated and I'm stunned.
Why is he saying this? My heartbeat accelerates as I find my breath that I've been holding captive without knowing. I want to know him. All of him— it's the only thing that comes to mind as I look at him.
"What's your real name, Red?" I purr, catching him off guard. He lets my hand free, unfolding his face. I’m pained by his reaction. “Do you think you can tell me someday?" I think I'm crying.
Silence stretches between us for almost a minute as we are staring at each other deeply in the eyes. Can’t he answer me? I beseech inside.
"I will," Red whispers and takes my hand once again in his. Sighing softly, he pulls me with him as he sits on the chair at the breakfast table. "I promise I'll tell you someday." He sits me on his lap.
Our eyes are fixed together, gently, filled with so many untold words. I see mystery in his eyes— the mystery that pulls me deeply into the ocean of unknown he resides in— but I’m not afraid to drown.
"I have so many things to ask you," I breathe, placing my arms around his neck.
But I have a feeling he won't answer any of them.
"Ask me," he returns, but all I see is the blank space I can write anything on . . . and not a written page where I can read one or two things about him.
He's purely cryptic.
"What's the color of my underwear?" I blurt, and Red's eyes widen.
Gotcha! I giggle at his priceless reaction, his eyes gleaming.
"Mia," he utters and laughs at the same time, completely taken by surprise.
"What? You said I can ask you anything, right?" I shrug.
He takes a deep sigh, wiping his laughter, and then he leans toward me while holding the back of my neck so I follow his lead. Oh boy! I'm allured by his breath that tickles my earlobe.
Softly into my ear he whispers, "You're not wearing any underwear, Mia."