Cherry Locked Ch. 26-30

I gulp Champagne to buy some time. Stick with being famished...that's all I will give him. Why did I react that way?! I've heard the word marriage all my life, but once he says it, I turn to jelly? I can't do that again. I place down the fork and relax my body. "I forgot to eat."

"And you felt lightheaded exactly when I said the word marriage?" He interrogates.

"Yeah."

"I don't buy that. The word either upset or shocked you. Which is it?"

"I'd like to skip."

"No skipping, answer me."

Oh, he's not a fool. Jace won't let this go. My lie isn't going to hold. I might as well be truthful. "The word shocked me."

"Why?"

"That wasn't what I expected to hear."

"What did you think I would say?"

"Not that...I thought you'd say long term."

"Matrimony is long term."

"It is...but we're still strangers."

"Do you want me to stop using the M-word?"

"Yes."

Jace eyes my plate. "Eat something." I dig the fork into a potato stuffed with gravy. "And please start having breakfast."

"I don't know how to call the drone."

"I'll give you access through your phone."

"Alright."

"You can have anything you want."

"You said we're alone, but who's cooking the food?"

"My drones."

"How can they cook, though?" I wave my hand to the plate of food. "This looks top chef."

"China began the trend of eliminating living cooks. With bots, your food is never overcooked or undercooked nor at risk of making you sick. Everything is made to perfection; there's no human error."

"Of course, China started it." I giggle. "I can't wait for food delivery and driving apps to utilize them."

"All labor work will evolve to that in a decade or two." Jace studies me. "I don't think I ever said sorry about the accident."

"You don't need to say it. I know." I rush a smile.

"Have you told your therapist what happened?"

"Yes."

"Could you tell me?"

I chew, wondering if I should. It's not that sensitive of a subject anymore. I can tell him. "It still seems like it happened to someone else."

"I bet it does...the attack was random."

"Yeah." I eye the food. "Anyway, the guy was a creep. He locked the doors and went turbo on the gas. I texted Lil. I tried to get help from the app, but the guy took my phone. I couldn't move until my survival mode kicked in. It was so bizarre waking up and hearing about myself on the news. So...strange."

"It was too much for you to bear. I made sure no interviewers approached you in the hospital."

"And the cops?" I glance his way. "None came to question me...or to get a description."

"Them as well. My tech guy, Eric, delivered the photo to the authorities. I didn't want you re-living the trauma."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." His gaze bounces between my eyes. "Were you happy when Frank was reported dead?"

"No...there are prisons for a reason. I'm not dead, so why should he be?"

"You were close!"

I'm caught off guard by how on edge he is. Why? "True...but I'm here."

"You trust the justice system enough to punish a sleezbag?!" His flustered voice confuses me.

"I do."

"Two meals a day, plus dessert. Bed, pillow, and blanket. Outdoors time. That isn't punishment!"

Jace's fuming words frighten me. I stumble from my chair. No. No. No. It can't be! "YOU HAD HIM KILLED?!" My skeleton rattles; my heart throbs up a storm.

"Rightfully so." He gestures to my chair. "Please sit back down."

"That was wrong!"

"So was his list of victims...from kids to young women. The man was a living demon. Tell me you didn't want to kill him? So, I know you're lying."

"I did...but only in a dream, not in real life!"

"The world won't miss him. Frank would have been another fat cat milking the justice system. No death row. No lethal injection. Just comfort until his final days."

"That doesn't mean you were right. Two wrongs don't make a right!" I catch my breath between my words.

"Madison, you're unwell; please sit back down." Jace stands.

"YOU CAN'T MURDER PEOPLE! I hope you haven't done this before. You said it yourself. All of your tech is weaponized. Why?"

"For my safety. I'm not a killer. I only gave the order."

I recall his group of hitmen. The leader comes to mind. "Was it Alonso?" I lose my balance. Jace hurries to support me. I share a petrified look with him. "No...no, get away from me!" I push him off and wobble away.

The path we took is stretched further. Was it always this long? Or is my mind disoriented?? How could Jace do such a thing?! Call a hit on someone who was already in custody? How did he get away with it? The FBI isn't on his trail; they might be now that we've been sighted together. But who's to say the police aren't in his pocket. Paid to turn the other cheek? This is too much!

My vision goes blurry with hysteria. My feet double due to dizziness. This can't be true. Can't be real. I'm dreaming. No way the man I'm staying with ordered a hit! I couldn't have heard that right! Jace is too professional and rational. He's also in the spotlight. How could he be so reckless?! Is the fame and glamor a blinding shield? Does it blind the world of his dark side? Is it blinding me?? He has weapons surrounding him, ready to fire off. Why?

I make it to my room and lock the door. I rest my head on it and heave in and out. What do I do about this? Do I still stay after knowing Jace had someone killed? How do I deal with this?! I thought he was a good guy. A big-hearted man. Was I wrong to think that? My phone is in his office. I should call someone to vent, but I don't want to go out. I might vomit at the sight of him. I'm gonna have to figure this out on my own. No advice, no calling for help. What do I want to do about this?

I go to the windows, which part ways to a balcony. The waves are heavy. The wind's pressure nearly blows me back. I close my eyes and hold the railing. I don't want to leave him. We're having so much fun. I love this place. I may even fall in love with Jace. He's willing to wait for me. Marriage is his endgame. Even though he has blood on his hands, he did it for me. He protected me in his own twisted way. Jace loves me, just as my mom said. I can't pass up love. My heart has been dying for it.

I barely leave my bed the next day. I cocoon myself in the sheets and stare at the ceiling. My mind is still lost. I don't have my phone, but that's not an issue. I need to disconnect. A drone whirls outside my door. "Breakfast." It notifies. I'm not hungry....so I ignore it the next time it repeats the word.

My brain doesn't have a solution to the issue.

The next day, I accept the breakfast and have a clearer idea of the dilemma. I should leave. This will take time adjusting to. Even if he did it for me, it was horrible. My teeth bite into French toast topped with a layer of eggs. I obliterate the orange juice, then crack open the door to check if the coast is clear. I need my phone. My mom is most definitely losing it. I know I have other texts too.

When I open the door, a drone is there. "Checking vitals." It scans me head to toe with a green light. "Stable readings." I hop past it and go to the office, placing my ear to the door.

I can't tell if he's inside. There's no talking. If he is, I'll trek to my phone and dash out as fast as possible. Oh...who am I kidding? I'll just knock. I do so three times. There's no reply. My hand turns the knob. The room is vacant. I walk to my phone, which is still at the end of the bench. When I click it on, I find 22 messages. "Oh, no." I tap on the group chat.

Has anyone spoken to Maddy?

No.

She's not answering the phone!

I had a bad feeling about this guy. Where is my princess??Now that I know what Jace has done, was my dad right to be weary? I guess he has a radar just as mom does.

I text: sorry guys. I didn't have my phone.

There's a text from Jace sent an hour ago: I'll be back later; please accept the food outside your door 🤍

I'd rather not text that I want to leave. I'll tell him in person. I pick out a pink halter top and white shorts and walk the beach. I hear the wheels of a drone trailing behind me. My bare feet sink into the sand. I underestimated the vast island—the beach loops on forever. No matter how many miles I put behind me, there's an unmeasurable amount ahead. I'm now by a forest.

I halt here and wipe sweat from my forehead. I'm overheated. I watch the high sun and bashing water. I slosh my feet into the cool sea until my legs and waist are submerged. I go farther out so that I float on the pure blue sea. Something about being far out allows me to finally ponder.

Am I happy Frank is dead? Jace had a point...prisoners don't suffer as they should. There's no fear because they know the outcome will be lax. Am I happy he's gone?

I glimpse a swarm of flamboyant fish in the distance. An incoming wave builds and rocks me back. Am I overreacting? I want to stay. I need to stay. I feel safe and healthy here. Above all, I feel loved. I think that's my answer.

I make my way back to the shore. The drone is halfway in the water, high on fours like the alien from War of The Worlds. Did it get unsettled by my being out so far? Or did Jace order it to survey me? I'm sure he gets live video from the bots. I take wide leaps back to the shore.

As I pass it, I say, "I'm fine." I'm sure the billionaire can hear me. There has to be speakers on that thing. Locating a shower station is easy. My theory is there's one every few miles. I even passed one....I thought it was a sauna. It looks exactly like one, despite the shower head draping from its roof. I wash off my sandy body. My white pants are spotted brown. I tour down a bit more. I want to explore the land. The forest is piquing my interest...I've never been in one. I wonder how many animals are in there.

"Hey, drone. Is it safe to go in the forest?"

Its top blinks. "No, it is not safe. It will be dark soon; time to head back home. Mr. Harrison is returning."

"Home..." I speak the word to myself. Yes, this feels like home. It could be just that. Should I stay, or should I go?

I juggle my decisions on the way back. The sunset is like a fire in the sky. The moon, on the opposite side, is pure white. The split sky is so magical. It'll be nice to see this every night. When I make it back, I change my shorts to a flowy skirt. There are new texts on my phone screen:

We were close to renting a boat 😅😅😅

Fr 😂

My mom and dad hearts my text.

I rinse the sand out of my hair. When it's all out, I have a wet and wavy style going on. I go to the usual dinner spot. Jace isn't there. I search his office and bedroom, nothing.

I text: Where are you?

An incoming message buffers: Kitchen.

I go downstairs to an oak kitchen with white appliances. A cyclone window wraps its circumference. Jace is stirring red wine beef stew in a pot on the stove. His sleeves are rolled up, and his blazer is across his shoulder. "You're cooking? You can cook?!"

"Why the tone of surprise?"

"I thought your bots do everything for you."

"I lived a normal life before." He switches the knob to lower the stove's eye, then maneuvers to me. "I want your last dinner to be perfect."

"Last dinner?"

His nails graze down my wet hair. "Yeah... you hate me, right? You want to leave?"

"I don't hate you."

"Perhaps my standards are too low for you now?"

"No...I think you're just a guy. You all get violent."

"One of my kinds flaws." He replies lightly. "That was wrong of me to do. You're right. The man was locked up. But him being in chains wasn't enough for me." His caressing fingers stop at the ends of my hair. "I sense you want to leave. If you do, I understand." He stares at me in peril...as if he's at risk of shattering to pieces. "Just know that I care deeply for you. I had to eliminate your burden."

"I get that..." I admit. "My dad would have done the same if given the chance. My ex was close to murdering the guy too."

"So...you're staying?"

I shrug. "I don't know what to do. This is crazy. How do I act as if you didn't end someone's life?"

"I'm sorry, forgive me." The vulnerability in both his voice and eyes cripple me. "Don't leave me."

I share the same frail gaze. "I don't want to."

"Then don't."

"Jace...this changes things. Have you done this before? Why do you have machinery with guns ready to blast??"

"That was the first time I've done anything like that. My armed tech is for my safety."

"Your safety? Explain what you mean. And don't make me wait until dinner this time." I demand.

"Alright." He returns to the pot to stir it. "Clean energy isn't profitable for leading corporations. Gas surpasses solar power any day. When I announced that my brand would be available to all. Stocks for gas dwindled. The Stryger F15 buyership increased by 79%. Gas industries took a hard hit." He glances at me. "I made enemies. I'm constantly followed and threatened because of this breakthrough."

"Threatened?!"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Competition and greed. Gas corporations fear losing millions of customers. It means less money and power. The kings deal with this by attacking me."

My nerves skyrocket. My sight shoots to the wrap around window as if a boogeyman is waiting beyond it. I hurry to him. "Get away from the window!!" I drag him only by a few inches; he's heavy.

"I'm safe here." He chortles. "It's alright."

"What if you're not?"

"I am."

"What if you're not?!" I stress dreadfully.

"This NASA deal has been in the works for years. I gave an ultimatum in our initial conference. To launch a guardian satellite in exchange for advancing their tech by 10 years. That satellite is live and tracks my every movement. If the drones don't ease your mind, that will. No threats will slip by."

"How fast is the satellite?"

"Faster than the speed of sound."

"And the weapons on it?"

"Supersonic with accurate aim."

"How do you activate it? What if you're too slow doing it and get-" My lungs lock.

"Breathe." He kisses me. "Everything within 200 miles is detected and analyzed."

"And if someone has better tech than you one day, what then?"

"That won't happen. Trust me. I'm the tech king for a reason. Relax." He sounds so sure. Too sure to be wrong. I take a deep breath and calm down. He scoops some of the stew with a wooden spoon. "Taste. I need your opinion."

I sample it. The tangy sweetness sparks my tastebuds. "Oh, it's good! You need to cook this every night. Mr. Top Chef."

"Share some." Jace French kisses me. Our tongues twist and battle. We rotate in a rough tango, left, right, up and down our mouths go. He tastes like spicy cinnamon.

I love it!

I don't even need to eat if this is an option. I scoop up a glob from the pot and feed him. My fingers scrub the juices over his mouth before I lick it off. My tongue dives into his. That's how we eat for the rest of the night. There's no break to the pattern...and no want to stop.

The next day, at sunset, Jace takes me to a ballroom. Its walls are white and gold, its floors are oak. The ceiling is made entirely of stained glass. I wear a short, yellow dress with a long cleavage line. It hugs my curves like shapewear.

"Last night has me thinking." He begins.

"Me too." My fingers play with the band of his pants, slipping in and out.

"You followed my lead well. I wonder how good your feet can follow."

I run my hands up his unbuttoned shirt. "I should be just as good."

"Hmmm." He bites my lip. "Let's see." He places a hand on my back and the other in mine. We're 6 inches apart. Jace holds hand in the air, then slowly prances around the room with me. Rotating in a counterclockwise circle. "Follow my feet. Keep close."

I look down to adjust my footing. "Is that too far?"

Jace glances down to judge. "A little closer."

I correct myself. "Like that?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"Hold your head high with your spine. Chin forward. Slightly Bend your knees." I follow his instructions. His lips peck at my nose. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

Jace sways slower this time, slow enough so I can observe his feet. I mimic his stepping. Left foot forward, right foot next. Left, right. Feet together, moving left to right. Backwards. Right foot, left, right, left. Feet together, moving right to left. Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow.

"Ha, I think I got it!"

"One more time." I imitate the footwork again. Jace is fascinated by how quickly I catch on. "Do you have a photographic memory?"

"I honestly don't know."

"Let's try it with music. Alodia?"

"Yes, Mr. Harrison?" The room responds. I peep around to find where the AI's voice is coming from. Maybe the floor, it sounds as if it's below us.

"Play tango music." We dance to a rolling saxophone, piano, and bass. I replicate his perfect posture and footwork. We swivel the dance floor, spinning and treading as one. Time disappears as we tango on a loop.

When I'm confident enough, I pop my hips and dip low so he can bring me back up. I even raise my heel above his head to show off. "Ta-da."

He kisses my ankle, then bends my leg to his side. "That's only a leg. How flexible is the rest of your body?" Jace intertwines our legs like separating scissors. We slope low to the floor as if limboing. "Nice."

"Once a cheerleader, always a cheerleader."

We whirl and frolic to the beat. Our feet swipe the ballroom floor. The excitement of a new hobby has my adrenaline pumping. Jace's energy matches my exhilaration. He still teaches me how to work my arms despite me being a fast learner. Another a couple of tries I somewhat get it down. We master the flow of the song with our bodies. I could go all night, but my feet start aching. I unstrap my sandals and massage them.

"How about no shoes next time?"

"Way ahead of you."

Jace carries me to my room like a damsel in distress. I guess he doesn't want me feeling pain. Even if it's just my feet. Did he wish to take away my pain when I was hospitalized?? I'm guessing so. He's pretty protective. I know I'll feel so safe cuddled in his arms. He'd be my guardian angel while I'm sleeping. I wish he'd spend a night in bed with me. I wish he wasn't so tamed.

"Goodnight, ma'am." He kisses my forehead.

"Goodnight, sir."

We practice tango for a week. As soon as Jace gets home, we go to the ballroom. Our footwork is solid. I'm just a few seconds slow following his swirls. I don't go easy on myself, even when Jace tells me to give it time.

I stay up till the wee hours of the morning, whipping myself into shape. I have to be on the same page as him. I dance barefoot in my bedroom until I'm sleepy. I only get about 4 hours of sleep before I'm back training my feet and body into positions. I think I love dancing. The craft occupies my entire day. I don't find it to be a burden. This is a new passion of mine now because of Jace.

The lessons don't reside in the same place. We dance on the beach, casting fluid shadows upon the sand. In the kitchen, as he's cooking. In his office. And even on the rooftop. Which holds a gazebo tower. Its view is so unbelievable. I discover that most of the island is wildlife. A tropical jungle. This is probably my favorite spot.

Jace takes me shopping at an underground mall. It's a copy of the other shopping center back in Cali, only it has drone workers. "I'll find you something special. You need dancewear for next month's ball."