Chained: Reckless Desires (Dragon's Heart Book 1) Read Free Page B

the challenge made its way through the courts.
    What apparel she had left, that still fit, easily fit into her modest suitcase. Mostly it was Sunday afternoon clothes or yoga pants that she’d worn all of one time. Her collection of mementoes and documents that she still considered important she mailed to her aunt in upstate Wisconsin with a note asking her to hold onto them. Aunt Caroline was a very kind woman, big hearted, but also an incorrigible snoop. Bella knew she’d open every box that arrived and go through every scrap inside. But she was welcome to. Bella had no more secrets left. They’d all been burned away.
    Her whole life, reduced to one bag and a corner of her aunt’s garage, thousands of miles away.
    Bella still couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t think about Charles Edward Heath, either, without shaking. She definitely couldn’t think about what he might have done if he’d found her, or if she’d slipped out of the office a little too early and run into him outside.
    The night air was warm and still. Even with the lights of the little vacation town burning in the night, the stars were magnificently visible. It was summer, Bella realized. The summer stars shone down on her and she mentally listed all the constellations she could see. It was an old habit, borne from years of her father quizzing her during their nightly walks. He’d point to a constellation and ask her the name. “Orion,” she’d say. “Draco. Corvus. Corona Berenices.” He wouldn’t tell her she was right, or even nod in approval. He’d just keep going until she messed up and then frown at her or give his little condescending laugh and explain in a monologue why she was wrong.
    She missed seeing the stars.
    She didn’t miss her father.
    It was nearly midnight when he arrived, over three hours since Bella had been dropped off at the empty lot passing for a bus station. Franklin Hart pulled up to her curb in his employer’s town car, an ostentatious Lincoln that was a deeper black than the night. He didn’t roll down the window or open the door. Her father sat, staring straight ahead, and waited for Bella to come to him. Typical.
    She tried the door, but it was locked.
    Her father stared straight ahead.
    Bella rapped on the Lincoln’s window with a knuckle.
    But Franklin Hart, her father and only remaining parent, stared straight ahead.
    Bella pinched the bridge of her nose. Her father had a way of turning every interaction, no matter how mundane, into a battle of wills that only he could be allowed to win. He was the most stubborn, least forgiving man in the universe. Once in law school, she realized that she was always the one to call him to say hi. He never made the first move, hadn’t at least since her mother had died. So Bella decided that she wouldn’t call him at all until he called her at least once.
    He never called. She relented after eight months, just before Christmas, if only because she needed to know if she could stay with him for a few nights. But that was at his old house, near Sacramento. Her father had a new life, a new job. It was all very mysterious. He resisted giving any details at all, other than that he was a sort of groundskeeper for a wealthy recluse. When pressed for details, he had a habit of changing the topic. If Bella pressed harder, he’d inquire after her weight, her marriage prospects, or any other sore subject.
    “Dad, please open the door.”
    Her father was motionless but for a finger that opened the passenger window a sliver.
    “Isabella, before you enter this car, there are rules to be agreed to.”
    “I’ve been out here for hours, can I please just get in the car and then we can talk?”
    “There are rules,” he said stiffly.
    “Dad, leaning against the car like this, talking through a crack in the window, I look like a call girl.”
    He pursed his lips. “I see the city has improved your vocabulary.”
    Bella knew, in her heart, that if she didn’t relent he’d just