I stared at him, a torrent of conflicting emotions raging through me. Part of me was still furious. He had every right to feel ashamed. After all, if I'd never met him, none of this would have happened. He'd pursued me, despite knowing that there may be risks, and I'd paid the price for that.

But I couldn't ignore the anguish in his voice, the guilt that was etched on his face. He meant what he said about never forgiving himself. He would carry this forever. It was a strange role reversal, but suddenly I felt the urge to comfort him. Regardless of everything that had happened, I still hated seeing him hurt. The connection between us still blazed like an inferno inside me. It was like his pain flowed out through his pores and into mine, seeping into me.

I spent the rest of the trip gazing out the window, watching the houses roll by. My fear may have eased, but my confusion was at an all-time high. I still had no idea what I was involved in, but I knew it had to be big.

Whatever came over the next few days, I suspected that my life would never be the same again.

CHAPTER TWO

Sophia

After driving for another half an hour we wound up at a giant old manor house, somewhere in the depths of eastern Sydney. It looked like the sort of place that belonged in a nineteenth century British period drama. A long driveway, manicured gardens, ivy snaking over the ageing brickwork like a network of veins. It was shielded from the outside world by a tall, concrete wall, with a Gothic looking wrought-iron gate providing the only access point.

"It's a secure location," Sebastian told me as we pulled in, although it was a somewhat redundant comment. One look at the expressionless men with automatic weapons, who were posted around the grounds, said that this wasn't somewhere you stumbled into uninvited.

A voice inside me wanted to know who the hell had multi-million dollar safe-houses just lying around for situations like this, but when stacked next to everything else that had happened, it somehow seemed to make sense. I felt a guilty little rush of excitement. Whatever world Sebastian had tried to keep from me, I was now being taken into the heart of it.

I'd decided to save the rest of my questions until we had a little more privacy. It seemed unlikely his friends would kidnap me, only to break down the door and rescue me a few hours later, but I was going to be cautious nonetheless. I was swimming in unfamiliar waters now. I couldn't afford any mistakes.

Sebastian and I hadn't said another word for the rest of the trip. There was something strangely distant about him now. It didn't make sense, but it almost felt as though he were angry at me.

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Surprisingly, there were about ten people waiting for us inside, including several faces I recognised. Thomas and Trey both approached as I entered.

"What's with the welcoming party, guys?" I joked, bemused by their presence.

Thomas flashed a quick grin. "Someone called ahead. Said they'd got you. I'm glad you're okay."

"Yeah, you gave us one hell of a scare," said Trey.

"Well, thanks," I replied.

The two men shuffled awkwardly in place, their eyes darting to the floor. There was a strange tension in the air, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why. Whatever Sebastian's secret, the whole room was clearly in on it, and at that point it had to be obvious to everyone that I knew more than I was supposed to. I'd seen too much to still be in the dark.

Thomas and Trey appeared to be taking it in their strides, but not everyone looked so happy to see us. Several more of Sebastian's colleagues, including Ewan, were standing in a nearby doorway, assessing him with dark expressions.

"What's the deal with them?" I asked.

Thomas glanced over and grimaced. "Eh, just office politics. Don't worry about it."

Before I could delve any deeper, Sebastian appeared next to me. "There's a room made up for you upstairs. There's also food, if you're hungry."

I knew I should probably eat, but my stomach was still churning from the enormity of everything that had happened. What I really needed was a chance to process everything.

I shook my head. "I think I'll just hit the hay, if that's okay."

"Whatever you want," he replied.

I nodded farewells to the guys, who flashed tight little smiles before drifting back towards their colleagues. I wondered if they were going to get chewed out for talking to me. I got the sense that I wasn't exactly a guest of honour.

Sebastian led me upstairs and round the corner to a plainly made up bedroom. "There's a bathroom if you want a shower, and something to change into."

"Thanks," I said. That strange sense of hesitation was still there in his demeanour, like he was dealing with a distant cousin he only saw at family get-togethers. The desperation, the burning need I'd felt when he first burst into my prison, was nowhere in sight.

"Is there something else going on?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

I nodded towards the foyer. "I'm not stupid enough to think they're all here for me."

He paused. "Things have been a bit crazy around here. Your disappearance... well, it wasn't an isolated event."

I wanted to ask more, but the way his brow furrowed and his voice shook when he spoke told me that perhaps the other situations hadn't turned out so well. There would be time to discuss it later.

He moved to leave, but paused in the doorway. "Like I said, this place is as secure as possible. You saw the guards as we came in, and nobody outside of us even knows it exists. You're safe here, Sophia."

I nodded, although it felt like a lie. In spite of the virtual fortress around me, I wasn't sure I'd ever really feel safe again.

* * * * *

In the past, I'd always considered sleep a sanctuary. A lot of people in high powered jobs struggle to get enough rest, but no matter how stressed or strung out I was, it had always come easily for me. I love that sense of complete escape, of just shutting down and blocking it all out for a few hours.

But tonight was different. Every time I closed my eyes, it was like being plunged into biting water. I kept remembering the way it had felt that morning, in my house, fading out as the drugs took hold. The brief explosion of dread like a hand closing around my heart as I realised, too late, what was coming. Suddenly the darkness of sleep wasn't soothing, it was terrifying.

And every time I did manage to drift a little, I always woke in a cold sweat, just minutes later, a montage of terrifying images playing through my head. I hated that sense of powerlessness. I was the one in charge of my mind, dammit. The experience had been horrifying, but now it was over. There was no reason to let it affect me anymore. But logic didn't seem to be relevant. This was beyond rationality. Something had broken inside me.




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