Chapter 14: A Debt She Can't Pay (And a Plan to Escape)

Cady's POV

I lie there, my head throbbing like someone's taken a hammer to it. The bandage wrapped around my head feels tight, almost suffocating, and my body is stiff from lying still for too long. I blink up at Tate, trying to focus, trying to make sense of everything.

"What happened?" I ask, my voice hoarse.

He doesn't answer right away. His cold eyes sweep over me like I'm some kind of puzzle he can't quite solve. Then, instead of answering, he snaps, "Why the hell can't you follow simple instructions?"

"What?"

His voice is sharp, cutting through the dull ache in my head. "When the maid told you to stay in your room, why didn't you obey her?"

I stare at him, completely floored. Is he really scolding me right now? After I busted my head falling down those stairs in his oversized villa, after everything that's happened, this is what he's concerned about?

"You're questioning me?" I ask, my voice shaky with disbelief. "I fell down your damn stairs, and you're mad because I didn't stay in that prison room?"

I try to sit up, but the pain shoots through my skull, making me groan. My hands fly to my head, pressing against the ache. The room spins for a second, and I feel Tate's hand shoot out, grabbing mine to steady me. His touch is firm but... gentle?

I look at him, confused, and before I can process it, he lets go and folds his arms, staring down at me like he's waiting for something. "Well?" he presses.

Before I can answer, he leans in closer, his hand gripping the edge of the bed as his eyes bore into mine. "This is exactly why I can't let you out of my sight," he says, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "You keep forcing yourself into my life, trying to know more about me. What is it, Sparky? Are you that miserably lonely? Or maybe you're even a spy—"

"Stop!" I shout, clutching my head as another wave of pain hits me. "Just stop with your insane theories!"

His face darkens, and before I can react, his hand grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. "What did you just say?" His voice is soft, deadly.

The door swings open suddenly, and the doctor walks in, her cheeks turning a shade of pink as she takes in the scene. Tate lets go of my chin, his expression changing instantly. He pinches my cheeks lightly, almost playfully, like he's messing around. I glare at him, furious.

"Doctor," Tate says, his voice smooth and composed, "Can she be discharged now?"

The doctor, still flustered, clears her throat. "Well, the head injury wasn't too severe, but we'll need to keep her for observation for a few days to ensure there's no internal damage. She'll need rest and should take 600mg of ibuprofen every six hours, and I'll prescribe antibiotics to prevent any potential infections."

Tate nods, his eyes flicking back to me as he smirks. "Good," he says. "Make sure she heals quickly." Then he leans in close, his voice a low whisper in my ear. "Because every day you're here, costing me more money, adds to your debt. You're practically turning into my slave, Sparky."

I grit my teeth as he pats my cheek and walks out, leaving me gripping the sheets, my knuckles white with anger.

$$$

Tate's POV

I walk out of the room, glancing back at Cady through the crack in the door. She's watching me, her face pale and furious. Good. Let her stew in her anger. She'll have to learn the hard way that there's no escaping me.

I take a seat in the hall, my men standing beside me like statues. I don't have time for this, not with everything else going on. I glance at one of my guards. "When is the old wench scheduled to arrive?" I ask, my voice low.

He checks his watch. "Less than thirteen hours, sir."

I curse under my breath and stand up, running a hand through my hair. This whole day has been a mess. Between my brother's idiotic stunt and that damn girl falling down the stairs, everything has gone to hell. And now, on top of it all, she's coming.

I shake my head, wondering why the hell the old woman even bothers with these surprise visits. It's always the same—her trying to meddle in my affairs, overseeing the properties she thinks she has a claim to. Or worse, checking if I've found a "suitable partner" to keep up my end of the bargain. As if I'd ever entertain that idea.

"Make sure the girl doesn't leave," I order my men. "No one goes in or out without my knowledge." They all nod, understanding the weight of my words.

I reach out, and one of my men places the keys to my Koenigsegg in my hand. I head out, cursing under my breath. Once I'm inside, I punch the steering wheel, my hand still aching beneath the bandage.

Damn it.

I need to get some pills before I completely lose my mind.

$$$

Cady's POV

I lie there, staring up at the ceiling, my head still spinning despite the medication they've given me. The room is quiet, too quiet, and even though the drip they've hooked me up to is supposed to make me sleep, I can't.

All I can think about is Tate. I'm furious. I'm humiliated. I'm trapped.

He kidnapped me, dragged me to his stupid mansion, teased me with the idea of freedom only to snatch it away. He forced me to clean his house like a servant, and now he's keeping me here, like some prisoner, acting like I owe him something. If he hadn't done all of this, I wouldn't be lying in this hospital bed with a busted head.

I've been through worse than this. I remember getting my head smashed by flying balls, Frisbees—all the rough stuff from my childhood, growing up as a tomboy with two younger brothers. I've got scars all over my body from it. This bandage on my head? It's nothing compared to that.

But my real problem is figuring out how to escape this bastard's clutches once and for all.

An idea hits me. I glance around the room, spotting a nurse busy with something by the counter. "Hey," I call out, my voice low and raspy. "Where's my phone?"

The nurse glances at me, confused for a moment, then walks over to the bedside table and hands it to me. I grip it tightly, feeling a flicker of hope. My fingers fumble with the buttons, my head still a little fuzzy, but I manage to pull up the number I'm looking for.

I take a deep breath and press call, holding the phone to my ear.

It rings once. Twice. Then I hear his voice, deep and familiar.

"Hello?"

My heart skips a beat. "Hi, Ronny... yeah, it's Cady."

Silence.

"Cadence? Like... Cady Cadence?"

"Yeah..."

There's another pause, and then his voice turns cold. "Why the hell are you calling me?"

My heart drops.