The Escape Artist by Kitty Thomas

Author:Kitty Thomas [Thomas, Kitty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Burlesque Press
Published: 2020-01-13T18:30:00+00:00

13

Claire woke the next morning, surprised to find the metal chain wasn't locked around her ankle. Was it some sort of trick or test? Had he just forgotten? Should she stay and wait for him? Two weeks ago her first thought would have been to try to run.

But she didn't want to run now. It was as if the gold band around her throat tied her to him more powerfully than any actual chain could.

Claire got out of bed for the first time without an escort and walked down the stairs into the main part of the room. The fireplace crackled quietly with a small fire that was running out of fuel.

She went into Ari's walk-in closet. Would he be upset with her if she put something of his on? She couldn't bring herself to wander around his house naked. It didn't matter that he'd seen everything.

She found a crisp white button-down shirt hanging in the closet with about fifteen more exactly like it. She put it on and buttoned it up, leaving a couple of buttons at the top open. The shirt was huge on her. It felt strange now to have any fabric brush across her skin beyond that of the sheets and comforter in her bed.

She used the bathroom and brushed her teeth and stopped to admire the collar in the mirror. Then she went to see if he'd left the bedroom door unlocked. Would he be upset with her if she left his room?

The door to the bedroom easily clicked open in her hand, and she crept out into the hallway. Even though she'd seen parts of the house in disconnected puzzle pieces, she hadn't seen this. On one side was nothing but windows, letting the bright sunlight in, streaking patterns and prisms from the intricately designed glass across the floor and onto the wall.

Exquisite chandeliers hung in the massive high-ceiling hallway and cast even more tiny rainbows across the wall. She shouldn't be awed by his home. If they were to put their bank accounts side-by-side, she probably had as much money as he did.

But she'd never had the knack for this much style. You could have a lot of money and still not own the most beautiful things. Beauty wasn't always about money. It was about taste, style, talent, art. And Ari's house was a work of art.

When she reached the front door, she paused and glanced around furtively, but she was alone. There was a keypad beside the entry, much like the one she'd set up to keep Ari in the cell. There was no place to input a code, only a fingerprint.

Claire tried to turn the knob and felt the resistance. There was no visible lock or keyhole in the doorknob. Bending down to peer more closely she could see deadbolts between the small crack in the door—or they would be deadbolts if there were any locks she could physically turn.

She wondered idly if she could break the glass? But just looking at the windows along the hallway, she knew this wasn't the kind of glass she could ever shatter.

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