Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) (84 page)

“That’s correct,” Rose confirms.

“You do realize that your home sits on Jeremy’s property?”

Her eyes narrow at me when I call Jeremy by his first name. “Yes,” she says. “
Mr. Stonehart
is allowed to come inside whenever he wishes. Of course, he has had the benefit of a proper upbringing, and is able to respect a person’s privacy—”

“Hah!” I bark a laugh. “Don’t feed me that shit, Rose. Jeremy, respecting privacy? What about the cameras? What about the sunroom? What about—” I lean forward, and lower my voice, making is accusatory at the same time, “—all that he’s done to me?”

Rose feigns ignorance. “What has he done to you, I wonder?” she asks. “He’s given you everything he has. You live in an enormous estate. Your meals are cooked for you. You have an unlimited wardrobe of clothes. You have no duties, no responsibilities. You live a life of leisure and comfort and—”

“No duties aside from being his sex slave,” I counter.

Rose stops. She goes white. For a moment, her mouth opens and closes like a gaping blowfish.

“That’s right,” I continue. “I
know
you know, Rose. I know that you were in on it with him the entire time. Otherwise, why would you react the way you did when you saw my collar off? It’s because Jeremy didn’t tell you that it’d be coming off. It’s because it wasn’t part of the plan, was it? It’s because it frightened you,” I accuse.

“Well, it’s off now, and I’m free. Oh, don’t look so surprised. I know that you know way more than you let on. I just can’t believe I was stupid enough—naïve enough—to actually consider you my friend.

“Of course, you hold Jeremy’s confidence. He wouldn’t have ever trusted you with me otherwise. Anybody else would have gone to the cops when they found me in the state that you first did. I chose to ignore that. Maybe because I was desperate. Even though I knew better, I chose to ignore it, because at the moment, I needed a friend.”

Rose looks embarrassed.

“I made myself believe that that friend could be you. I had no other choice. I needed a reprieve from the cruelty and abuse I was suffering.” I pause and then push on.

“But now it’s over. Now, everything is out in the open. Jeremy and I have moved on past that, Rose. You and I? We haven’t.

“So, start at the beginning. Tell me who you really are. Tell me how you’ve known Jeremy for twenty years—if that wasn’t another lie you told me. And tell me how you could stand and watch, doing nothing, while I suffered all the abuse at Jeremy’s hands.”

There. That was a much longer speech than I intended to make. At least, it’s all out in the open. I glare at Rose, challenging her to deny anything I’ve said.

She looks at me, and then—shock beyond all shock—she starts to cry.

“I…I couldn’t,” she blubbers. “I couldn’t do anything, Miss Ryder. Yes, I knew what was happening to you. Yes, I knew what Jeremy was doing. I know the things he’s capable of. I know the lengths to which he’s willing to go. But I…I couldn’t do anything to stop him. I swear!”

With that, she throws her head in her arms and starts absolutely bawling.

I hesitate, off-balance. She called him ‘Jeremy’. That must have been a slip. Now what do I do with this hysterical woman in front of me?

Her crying just keeps escalating. I bite my lip, searching for an escape. The instinctive, maternalistic part of me wants to comfort her. But I know that she does not deserve comforting. Not now. Not with what she’s guilty of.

“Rose,” I say slowly. Calmly. “Control yourself. You don’t need to cry. Just…” I look around the room, a bit helplessly, “…just talk to me, will you?”

“I couldn’t stop him,” she sobs. “I couldn’t stop all of the horrible things he was doing to you. I’m sorry, Miss Ryder. I’m so, so sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” I say. “I know how meaningless those words are. But you do need to explain. From the start. Who
are
you, Rose? What is your relationship to Jeremy?”

She lifts her head and looks at me through red-rimmed eyes. “I’m his—” She hiccups. “—I’m his housekeeper. That’s all.”

My lips form a thin line. Probably a habit I’ve picked up from Jeremy. “Come now,” I say. “I’m not an idiot. Don’t perpetuate that lie. I know you’re more than that.”

“Miss Ryder, I swear,” she says. “On my own life. On Charles’ life! I am Mr. Stonehart’s housekeeper, and nothing more.”

“Okay,” I say, moving my tongue across my teeth. “Let’s try a different approach. You’re Jeremy’s housekeeper now. But were you that, always? Or did your relationship with him begin somewhere else?”

She looks at me, frozen for a moment in absolute terror. Then, she lowers her eyes.

“I…I can’t say,” she mutters.

“Why?” I challenge. “Why can’t you say, Rose? What is it that you don’t want to tell me?”

“You’re wrong,” she says. “I
do
want to tell you, Miss Ryder. Truly, I do. But I can’t. I made a promise. A vow. If I break it now, after all these years…” she shudders. “Horrible things will happen. Bad things.”

“Bad things?” I say. “Bad things to whom? To you? By whose hand? Jeremy’s?”

She starts shaking her head.

“Who is it, Rose? Who threatened you? Tell me if it’s Jeremy!”

“I can’t say,” she repeats, over and over again. “I can’t say. I can’t tell you. I cannot. I can’t.”

I hesitate, trying to make up my mind. There are two ways I can go. Two ways I can take things.

I can either be brattish and stubborn, or…I can be kind. I truly believe that the woman before me needs kindness ahead of anything else.

So I reach across the table and place a hand on her arm. She looks up at me, and then at my hand, almost as if in shock.

“Rose?” I say gently. “I don’t blame you. If Jeremy has something on you that keeps you here, I understand. He can be a frightening man. I know that. He’s very powerful. You don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

She starts crying again. “Th-thank you. Thank you, Miss Ryder. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve your understanding or your…your sympathy.”

“But you have it,” I assure her. “Only if you promise me one thing. Can you do that, Rose?”

“I-I can try.”

“Promise you won’t feel scared of me again. I might not know what keeps you here. But I’d much rather have you as a friend than as an enemy.”

“I think—” She wipes her eyes, and smiles. “—I think that I can do that, for you.”

Chapter Nine

Even if I didn’t ever get a satisfactory answer from Rose, at least I now know where we stand.

She and Jeremy have history. I wonder if it’s anything like mine. Twenty years is a long time to have known someone. Though I have no way of telling, I suspect that Rose did not spend two decades as a mere housekeeper.

Also. While her breakdown today was certainly genuine, I do not think she is as fragile as she wants me to believe. Despite everything, there is a certain intelligence that she tries to mask. Maybe it’s her speech, or maybe it’s her general mannerisms, but I truly believe she was the benefactor of a good education. A ‘proper upbringing’, as she’d put it.

That’s what makes the mystery of her presence so intimidating. She is not just a housekeeper, no. Jeremy turned her into one. He must have.

How long has she been playing the role? The age difference between her and Jeremy is intriguing, too.

The only person I’ll ever get answers from, however, is currently absent.
Working
, as I should be. He did not let me make the decision to stay home. He took it out of my hands.

But I’m not being cooped up here like a teenager. Nothing says I have to stay on the property. In fact, today is the perfect day to get out of the house, and take advantage of the chauffeur Jeremy offered.

I ring Simon. He tells me he’ll bring the limousine to the doors in two minutes. I’m dressed and ready to go by the time he arrives.

“Where to, Miss Ryder?” he asks me.

“Let’s go downtown,” I answer. “I might want to get a bite to eat. I missed lunch.”

He nods and we roll forward. “Any preference?” he asks.

“Let’s just drive around and see if anything catches my eye.”

A few minutes later, I ask, “Hey Simon, did you…find me in the office building yesterday?”

“Oh yeah,” he says quickly, almost too casually. “Definitely. Mr. Stonehart sent me to give you a message.”

“Why didn’t he just…oh, I don’t know, call me himself?” I wonder aloud.

“Beats me,” Simon shrugs. “He wanted me to give you that stack of photos, as well. There were some nice shots in there, weren’t there?”

“You looked at them?” I ask, surprised.

“Sure. Dunno if I was supposed to, though, but the envelope wasn’t sealed, and I’ve always been more curious than most.”

“Hmm,” I intone. Something about that doesn’t jive. I know how much Jeremy values his privacy. Would he really permit his
driver
to go through photographs of us?

We get to a part of downtown full of pretty little shops and quaint boutiques. I ask Simon to stop and let me off. “I’ll call you when I need to be picked up,” I say.

I stroll through the streets. The overcast sky isn’t exactly uplifting, but there’s a crispness to the air that is refreshing. Winter in California is nothing like winter on the East Coast.

I find a small Greek place that looks interesting. It’s styled in white and blue plaster so reminiscent of the Mediterranean. I walk inside, order a table, and sit down.

Not two minutes later, Jeremy Stonehart walks through the door.

I see him before he sees me. His eyes scan the tables, find mine, and the next think I know, he’s striding over. He looks furious.

“Lilly,” he says, as he comes up to me. There is no room in his voice for ‘hellos’. “Tell me, right now, just what the hell you’re doing here.”

I bristle. “Me? I’m getting lunch. I would be at work, but
somebody
took the courtesy of making that decision out of my hands.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you stalking me?”

He ignores the question, rips the second chair out from under the table, and sits. Everything about him—from his posture, to the almost imperceptible tick in his neck—tells me he’s on edge.

“I left you at home so that you could
recover
from your episode yesterday. That is where I expect you to be.”

“Well, I’m not,” I challenge. “In case you happened to forget, I don’t have a collar binding me to your property any longer. You said so yourself: I’m free to go wherever I want.” I stare at him, defiant. “Or have you changed your mind about that already?”

He slams one hand on the table. I jump. “Don’t test me,” he growls. “I have enough concerns on my mind already. I don’t want worries about you added to the mix.”

“Then don’t worry,” I state. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about all your other ‘concerns’.”

“You,” he says, his voice grinding, “are making this damn near impossible for me to tolerate, Lilly,”

“What? That I’m not on your leash any longer?”

“No,” he says. “That you’re giving such poor regard to your health.”

“By leaving your property?” I challenge.

“By leaving my property
today
,” he growls. “Listen,” he leans closer. “You’re not just in a relationship with me, Lilly. You’re also an employee of Stonehart Industries. An employee who’s found herself in a very elevated position, for someone her age. A company’s employees are its biggest asset and its biggest
liability
.” He emphasizes the last word, filling it with meaning.

“So that’s how you think of me?” I spit. “As a liability to your precious empire?”

“That’s not what I said. But don’t you think, after your histrionics yesterday, that it would be better—for you, for me, for the public image of Stonehart Industries—if you just laid low for a day or two, and took advantage of the free time I’ve given you?”

“I’ve had nothing
but
free time, Jeremy, for weeks on end, in case you haven’t noticed. And you still haven’t answered my question: How did you know I was here? Actually, that’s not hard to guess. Simon told you. The better question is: How did you get here so fast?”

“I take care of things that are important to me, Lilly,” he hisses. “
That
is how I’m here so fast. I’ve come to take you home.”

My back stiffens. “No.”

Jeremy’s eyes darken. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘no’,” I repeat. “I’m a free woman. I can go wherever I want.”

“That may be,” Jeremy says. I can see him trying to control himself. “But there are still certain
expectations
of you that come from being linked to me.”

He reaches into his pocket and takes out a stack of photographs, and practically flings them across the table.

“More pictures you had taken?” I almost sigh.

“Not I,” Jeremy says. “Look.”

I go through them. They start with me in the limo, leaving Jeremy’s estate. You can’t see through the tinted glass, but I recognize the car. The shots continue, from the back, from the side, of the vehicle in traffic. And then—there are ones of us pulling to a stop. Of me getting out. Of me stepping into this very restaurant.

“These were taken minutes ago,” I whisper.

“Yes,” Jeremy confirms. “You’re lucky Simon knows what to watch for. Otherwise, these would be all over the papers tomorrow, and online tonight.”

“So I’m being followed?” I say, not immediately understanding. “Stalked?”

“By paparazzi, Lilly. They’re relentless. Like hounds. Now that you’ve been linked to me, everything you do in public will come under the highest scrutiny.”

I feel sick. I feel
duped.
It was only a few hours ago that I was reveling in not having everything I do be recorded. Now, I find that every time I’m outside, I’m under much the same surveillance—if not
worse
?

At least before, I knew that only one person had access to the tapes. Jeremy. Now, my entire life feels like it’s been exposed.