I didn't leave my room for two days. Nina brought me food and checked on me, but mostly I stayed curled up on the bed trying to make sense of my situation. Through the window I could watch the city, see people going about their normal lives while I was trapped in this strange in-between state.
On the third morning, Nina came by with purpose in her stride. "Okay, enough hiding. Tillman wants to see you."
My stomach dropped. "Why?"
"Didn't say. But when Tillman wants something, you don't keep him waiting. Come on, I'll walk with you."
She led me through the compound's hallways, and I tried to map the route in my head. Survival instinct, always know your exits. We went up two floors and through a set of heavy doors into what was clearly the business section of the building.
Tillman's office was at the end of the hall, huge double doors that Marcus opened for us. "He's expecting you."
I stepped inside and the doors closed behind me. The office was massive, floor-to-ceiling windows on two walls, expensive furniture, shelves lined with books. And behind a huge desk sat Tillman Kin, looking every inch the powerful man he was.
"Sit," he said, gesturing to a chair across from him.
I sat, my hands folded in my lap to hide their shaking.
Tillman studied me for a long moment. "I've been investigating Damien's claims about you. Digging into your history, your connections, looking for any evidence that you've been working against me."
My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
"I found nothing," Tillman continued. "No communications with my enemies, no suspicious activity, nothing that suggests you're anything other than what you appear to be. A victim of Damien Cross's abuse who got caught in the middle of a bad situation."
Relief flooded through me so strongly I felt dizzy. "So you believe me?"
"I believe the evidence," Tillman said. "Or lack thereof. Damien, on the other hand, his records tell a very different story. He's been skimming money from the territory for years, making deals with people he shouldn't, generally being exactly the kind of corrupt leader who needed to be removed."
He stood and walked around the desk, perching on the edge so he was closer to me. "The question is what to do with you now."
"You could let me go," I said, even though I knew it was pointless.
"I could," Tillman agreed. "Send you out into the city with some money and a new identity, let you disappear. That would be the smart play."
"But you're not going to do that," I said.
"No," he admitted. "I'm not. Because despite all logic and every instinct telling me otherwise, I don't want you to leave."
The raw honesty in his words caught me off guard. I looked up at him and saw something in his expression that I'd never seen before, vulnerability, uncertainty, like he was as confused by what was happening between us as I was.
"Why?" I whispered.
"If I knew that, things would be a lot simpler." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the gesture surprisingly gentle. "You affect me, Helen. In ways I don't like and can't control. And I don't know what to do about it except keep you close until I figure it out."
Before I could respond, the door burst open and Marcus rushed in looking more agitated than I'd ever seen him. "Sir, we have a situation. Damien just tried to escape, and during the attempt he attacked one of our people."
Tillman's expression went cold and hard in an instant. "Show me."
We followed Marcus down to what looked like a detention area, and I could see blood on the floor leading to a cell where Damien was being held by two of Tillman's men. He was bleeding from his nose and had his hands secured behind his back.
"He went for the exit, tried to take Jenny hostage when she got in his way," Marcus explained. "Cut her pretty bad before we could stop him."
Tillman walked up to the cell, and I watched Damien's face go pale with fear. "You just made a very stupid mistake."
"It was the girl," Damien said desperately. "She's the one you should be punishing, not me. She's dangerous, she'll betray you the first chance she gets."
Tillman didn't even look at me. "Helen's been cleared of your bullshit accusations. You, on the other hand, are guilty of just about every crime I can think of. And now you've assaulted one of my people."
"Please, I can give you information," Damien was begging now. "I know things about your competitors, about people planning moves against you. Just let me live and I'll tell you everything."
"I don't negotiate with people who hurt what's mine," Tillman said, his voice ice cold.
He turned to Marcus. "Take him to processing. And make sure everyone understands what happens to people who step out of line."
I felt sick as they dragged Damien away. I'd spent years being terrified of that man, and now he was being led to what was probably his execution, and I should have felt something about it. Relief, maybe, or satisfaction. Instead I just felt numb.
Tillman's hand on my arm made me flinch. "Come on, you shouldn't be down here."
He led me back upstairs to his office, and this time when we entered he locked the door behind us. "Sit down before you fall down."
I collapsed into the chair, my legs suddenly unable to support me. "You're going to kill him."
"Yes," Tillman said simply, pouring me a glass of water from a pitcher on his desk.
"Because he tried to escape?"
"Because he hurt you for years and I can't allow that to go unpunished." He handed me the water. "Drink."
I did, my hands shaking so badly I almost spilled it. "I don't understand you."
"That makes two of us," Tillman said with a hint of dark humor. He crouched down in front of my chair so we were eye level. "Listen to me, Helen. I'm not a good man. I've done terrible things to get where I am, and I'll do worse to stay here. But you, you're different somehow. And anyone who's hurt you has to answer to me now. Do you understand?"
I didn't, not really, but I nodded anyway.
"Good." He stood up. "You're free to move around the compound now. Nina will show you where everything is. But Helen," his eyes locked onto mine, "don't try to leave. I might not be ready to let you go, but there are people out there who would love to get their hands on someone connected to me. You're safer here."
It wasn't a request. It was a fact, and we both knew it.
Over the next week, I started to find a rhythm in my new life. Nina showed me around the compound, introducing me to people who mostly seemed curious rather than hostile. I had access to a gym, a library, communal dining areas where Tillman's people ate together. It was strange, like being part of a community but also being held apart from it.
I saw Tillman every day, sometimes just passing in hallways, sometimes he'd show up at my room with some excuse to check on me. Each interaction was charged with that same electric tension, neither of us knowing what to do with it but unable to stay away from each other.
On the eighth day, I was in the library when Sophia found me. She'd been avoiding me since that first confrontation, but now she approached with a smile that set my nerves on edge.
"Helen, right? I wanted to apologize for how I acted when you first got here. I was upset about my father and I took it out on you."
I didn't believe her for a second. "It's fine."
"No, it's not." She sat down across from me, her expression earnest. "I know I was terrible to you back in the Westside. And I want to make it right. Can we start over?"
Every instinct I had was screaming that this was a trap, but I didn't know how to refuse without making things worse. "Sure."
Sophia's smile widened. "Great. Listen, I know you're probably feeling lost here. If you ever want to talk or need help with anything, let me know, okay?"
She left before I could respond, and I sat there feeling uneasy. Whatever Sophia was planning, it wasn't going to be good for me.
That night I couldn't sleep, anxiety keeping me awake and staring at the ceiling. Around two AM I finally gave up and decided to walk around, maybe find the kitchen and make some tea.
The compound was quiet at night, most people asleep. I made my way through the darkened hallways, following the route Nina had shown me. But I must have taken a wrong turn because I ended up in a section I didn't recognize, more industrial looking, with heavy doors and security keypads.
I was trying to figure out how to get back when I heard voices. Male voices, angry and getting closer. I pressed myself into a shadowy alcove, holding my breath as two men walked past.
"...don't care what Tillman says, keeping her here is a mistake. She's a liability," one of them was saying.
"You want to tell him that?" the other responded. "Because I like my head attached to my body."
"I'm just saying, the moment she becomes more trouble than she's worth, someone needs to handle it."
They moved out of earshot, and I stayed frozen in my hiding spot, my heart pounding. Not everyone in Tillman's organization was happy about my presence, and some of them were apparently willing to talk about doing something about it.
I needed to get back to my room, but I was completely turned around. I tried one hallway, then another, getting more lost and more panicked until I finally pushed through a door and found myself in what looked like a training facility.
And there was Tillman, alone, beating the hell out of a punching bag with a focused intensity that was almost scary to watch. He was shirtless, his body covered in scars that told stories of violence survived, and his muscles moved under his skin with each powerful hit.
He must have sensed me because he stopped mid-punch and turned around. His expression was unreadable as he grabbed a towel and walked toward me.
"Lost?" he asked.
"I couldn't sleep," I said. "I was trying to find the kitchen but I got turned around."
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Come on, I'll show you."
We walked through the hallways in silence, Tillman pulling on a t-shirt as we went. When we reached the kitchen he turned on the lights and gestured for me to sit at the counter while he started making tea.
It was such a normal, domestic thing to do that it threw me completely off balance. This was the same man who'd ordered Damien's execution without blinking, and now he was carefully measuring out tea leaves like it was the most important thing in the world.
"Can't sleep either?" I asked.
"I don't sleep much," Tillman said. "Never have."
"Nightmares?"
His hands paused for just a second. "Something like that."
He poured the tea and sat down across from me. We drank in silence for a while, the quiet surprisingly comfortable.
"I heard some of your people talking," I finally said. "They don't think I should be here."
"They're not wrong," Tillman admitted. "You complicate things."
"Then why keep me?"
He looked at me over the rim of his cup, those blue eyes burning with something intense. "Because complicated is better than the alternative."
"Which is?"
"Not having you here at all." He set down his cup. "I told you, Helen, I don't understand what you do to me. I should have sent you away a week ago. It's the smart play, the safe play. But every time I think about you leaving, something in me refuses to allow it."
My heart was racing. "That doesn't make any sense."
"No," he agreed. "It doesn't. But here we are anyway."
He reached across the counter and took my hand, and that electric feeling was back, stronger than ever. I should pull away. I should put distance between us. Instead I let him thread his fingers through mine, and we sat there in the darkened kitchen holding hands like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"I'm scared of you," I whispered.
"You should be," Tillman said. "I'm a dangerous man, Helen. I've hurt people, killed people, done things that would give you nightmares for the rest of your life. But," his grip on my hand tightened, "I would never hurt you. That's the one thing I can promise."
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to believe him so badly. But trust wasn't something that came easily to me anymore.
"Tillman," I started, not even sure what I was going to say.
He stood up, still holding my hand, and pulled me to my feet. For a long moment we just stood there, close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his body, staring at each other like we were trying to solve an impossible equation.
Then he let go of my hand and stepped back. "You should get some sleep. I'll walk you back to your room."
The spell broke, and I nodded, following him through the quiet hallways. When we reached my door he paused, looking like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
"Good night, Helen," he finally settled on.
"Good night," I whispered back.
I went inside and locked the door, then leaned against it trying to calm my racing heart. Whatever was happening between Tillman and me, it was getting more intense, more complicated, and I had no idea how to handle it.
But one thing was becoming clear. For better or worse, I wasn't leaving this place anytime soon.