Chapter 164

Fiona

My stomach lurches, and I collapse over the toilet, emptying the contents of my stomach. I heave and cough to expel the burning feeling from my throat, and when there’s nothing left, I slide back to the floor and lean against the wall.

My entire body aches and feels hot as I close my eyes, but nothing I’ve done helps. Cool showers, hot showers, wet compress on my forehead and neck… none of it works.

“Ms. Fiona!” Someone outside the bathroom calls frantically.

Knocking.

Knocking.

Knocking.

“Ms. Fiona! Are you alright in there?” She calls again.

They just won’t stop. They won’t leave me alone and continually knock on the door to try to get me to unlock it, but I don’t want to see anyone. I’m not sure if Ethan is out there, but at this point, I wouldn’t put it past him to be out there with the staff.

I’ve been ignoring him since yesterday, so I can imagine he isn’t happy, but I don’t really care right now.

Knocking.

Knocking.

Knocking.

“I’m fine,” I call, but the crack in my voice betrays me. Closing my eyes, I take deep breaths. I didn’t sleep well last night, tossing and turning all night after the nightmare that literally scared me awake. I haven’t been able to keep my food down because I’ve been stressing and thinking of ways to run away. Then, I also have to deal with the thought of Ethan being torn apart by other Lycan wolves, which is only making me worried.

Everything mixing together only causes more stress, which is probably why I’m sick. It’s ridiculous, too. If Ethan would just let me go, I’d be able to calm down, rest, and get better, but no. He doesn’t want me to leave and even though I’ve tried to think of ways to leave, the only thing I can come up with is to sneak out when he leaves.

Luckily, Ethan left my phone outside my room, so when I told Isla, she said she would come pick me up. I just have to let her know when.

“Ms. Fiona, I have some medicine and food for you,” the bothersome woman in the hall calls. Sighing, I push myself up and trudge out of the bathroom.

Hopefully, the medicine will help.

I lean against the cool tile of the bathroom wall and groan as my stomach churns again. My breakfast from this morning didn’t last long in my stomach.

This sickness, whatever it is, needs to go away. Two days of this, and I’m ready to give up. My throat burns from throwing up too many times, and I just want to sleep. The nausea kept me holed up in my room, only allowing me to move back and forth from my bed to the bathroom floor. I haven’t been able to leave for food, not that I could keep it down if I did.

Three sharp knocks sound from the door before Ethan’s voice reaches my ears, “Lunch.”

I ignore the word and close my eyes. I don’t want to see him, and he knows that. If he thinks I’ll open the door just because he has food, he’s got a surprise coming for him.

After the maid barged in yesterday, I’ve been keeping the door locked so no one could come in, so unless he has a key and wants to anger me even more, he’ll stay in the hallway.

“Could I at least give you the medicine?” He asks.

Again, I continue ignoring him. The medicine hasn’t helped make me feel better for the last two days, what’s to say it’ll do anything different now? Nothing, that’s what.

“I just need to see you.”

Sighing, I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my chin on them. That annoying little sliver of guilt gnaws at my heart again, screaming that I’m being hypocritical by ignoring him. It’s the very thing I was angry at him for, and now I’ve turned around and ignored him. However, I don’t feel like I’m fully in the wrong. I’m the one being held captive. He’s my captor, not my boyfriend.

“I care about you, and I want to make sure you’re okay, Fiona,” he says, his voice soft with concern.

Tears prick at my eyes, and I try to blink the burning sensation away. He has no right to make me feel guilty when he’s the one in the wrong. I swipe at the tears on my cheeks, pulling my phone out and clicking Isla’s number.

It rings twice before the call connects.

“I need you to come get me now,” I whimper. “I can’t wait until he leaves. I need to get out of here.”

“I’m on my way. Are you okay?” Isla asks, and I can hear the jingling of her keys through the phone. Knowing she’s ready to jump at a moment’s notice has my tears falling faster.

“No,” I cry, burying my face in my knees.

“I’m coming, Fiona. I’m in the car now,” she growls. I let my phone fall from my hand and clatter to the floor as the call disconnects.

“Fiona—”

“Go away!” I scream at Ethan. The knocking stops, his words stop, and silence falls. The only sounds are the sniffling sobs that leave me as I cry. I try to keep the cries in, thinking about how Isla will be here soon to save me, to free me, and take me home.

I’m grateful that Ethan let me have my phone back, even if he was probably just hoping it would endear me to him. Instead, it did the opposite of what he probably wanted. It gave me a way out.

Sucking up my tears and exhaustion, I push myself off the wall and make my way into the bedroom. I dig through the closet and pull on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, finding a pair of sneakers and slipping them on so I’m ready whenever she gets here. I don’t want to spend another second in this house, and I hope I won’t have to see it again after today.

As I finish tying the shoes, my phone rings, and I snatch it up.

“Are you here?”

“They won’t let me past the gate,” Isla says on a huff. “The stupid guard says Ethan told him not to let anyone but him and his friend in, so he won’t—”

“I’ll come to you. Just wait there.”

Hanging up the phone, I spin, grab the door, and pull it open. He won’t keep me here any longer. I’ll make it to Isla even if I have to climb over the gate.

I run down the hall, dodging the woman who has been bringing me food, and run down the stairs. I turn to the right and find Ethan working on his laptop as if nothing wrong is going on here.

Rage blinds me, heating my already sick body up, and before I know it, I’m in front of him and my hand is flying forward. The crack of my palm hitting Ethan’s cheek echoes through the room, and everyone, including myself, freezes.

“Y-You have n-o right,” I stutter, holding back the tears as they blur my vision.