I don’t really remember what happened after I collapsed in Julian’s office yesterday. The rest of the day is fuzzy in my memory. It’s like my brain had switched off, unable to process the violence I had witnessed. I think I vaguely recall Julian picking me up off the floor and bringing me to the shower. He must’ve washed me and bandaged my feet because they’re wrapped in gauze this morning and hurting a lot less when I walk.

I’m not sure if he had sex with me last night. If he did, then he must’ve been unusually gentle because I don’t have any soreness this morning. I do remember sleeping with him in my bed, with his large body curved around mine.

In some ways, what happened simplifies things. When there’s no hope, when there’s no choice, everything becomes remarkably clear. The fact of the matter is that Julian holds all the cards. I’m his for as long as he wishes to keep me. There’s no escape for me, no way out.

And once I accept that fact, my life becomes easier. Before I know it, I have been on the island for nine days.

Beth tells me so over breakfast this morning.

I’ve grown to tolerate her presence. I have no choice—without Julian there, she’s my only source of human interaction. She feeds me, clothes me, and cleans after me. She’s almost like my nanny, except she’s young and sometimes bitchy. I don’t think she’s forgiven me fully for trying to bash her head in. It hurt her pride or something.

I try not to bug her too much. I leave the house during the day, spending most of my time on the beach or exploring the woods. I come back to the house for meals and to pick up a new book to read. Beth told me Julian will bring me more books when I’m done with the hundred or so that are currently in my room.

I should be depressed. I know that. I should be bitter and raging all the time, hating Julian and the island. And sometimes I do. But it takes so much energy, constantly being a victim. When I’m lying in the hot sun, absorbed in a book, I don’t hate anything. I just let myself get carried away by some author’s imagination.

I try not to think about Jake. The guilt is almost unbearable. Rationally, I know Julian is the one who did this, but I can’t help feeling responsible. If I had never gone out with Jake, this would’ve never happened to him. If I hadn’t approached him during that party, he wouldn’t have been savagely beaten.

I still don’t know what Julian is or how he’s able to have such a long reach. He’s as much of a mystery to me today as he’s ever been.

Maybe he’s in the Mafia. That would explain the thugs he has in his employ. Of course, he could simply be a wealthy eccentric with sociopathic tendencies. I truly don’t know.

Sometimes I cry myself to sleep at night. I miss my family, my friends. I miss going out and dancing at a club. I miss human contact. I’m not a loner by nature. Back home, I was always in touch with people—Facebook, Twitter, just hanging out with friends at the mall. I like to read, but it’s not enough for me. I need more.

It gets so bad that I try talking to Beth about it.

“I’m bored,” I tell her over dinner. It’s fish again. I learned that Beth catches it herself near the cove on the other side of the island. This time, it’s with mango salsa. It’s a good thing I’m a seafood fan because I get a lot of it here.

“You are?” She seems amused. “Why? Don’t you have enough books to read?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I still have seventy or so left. But there’s nothing else to do . . .”

“Want to help me fish tomorrow?” she asks, giving me a mocking look. She knows she’s not my favorite person, and she fully expects me to turn her down immediately. However, she doesn’t realize the extent to which I need human interaction.

“Okay,” I say, obviously surprising her. I’ve never been fishing, and I can’t imagine it’s a particularly fun activity, especially if Beth is going to be snarky the entire time. Still, I’d do just about anything to break the routine at this point.

“Okay, then,” she says. “The best time to catch these fuckers is right around dawn. Think you’re up for it?”

“Sure,” I say. I normally hate waking up early, but I get so much sleep here that I’m sure it won’t be too bad. I probably sleep close to ten hours at night and also catch an occasional nap in the afternoon sun. It’s kind of ridiculous, really. My body seems to think I’m on vacation at some relaxing retreat. There are apparently perks to not having internet or other distractions; I don’t think I’ve felt so well-rested in my entire life.

“Then you better go to sleep soon because I’ll come by your room early,” she warns.

I nod, finishing up my dinner. Then I head upstairs to my room and cry myself to sleep again.

* * *

“When is Julian coming back?” I ask, watching Beth as she carefully arranges the bait at the end of the hook. What she’s doing looks disgusting, and I’m glad she’s not making me help her.

“I don’t know,” Beth says. “He’ll come back when he’s done taking care of business.”

“What kind of business?” I’ve asked this before, but I’m hoping one of these days Beth will answer me.

She sighs. “Nora, stop prying.”

“What’s the big deal if I know?” I give her a frustrated look. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon. I just want to know what he is, that’s all. Don’t you think it’s normal to be curious in my situation?”

She sighs again and casts the lure into the ocean with a smooth, practiced motion. “Of course it is. But Julian will tell you everything himself if he wants you to know.”

I take a deep breath. I’m obviously not going to get anywhere with that line of questioning. “You’re really loyal to him, huh?”

“Yes,” Beth says simply, sitting down beside me. “I am.”

Because he saved her life. I’m curious about that too, but I know she’s touchy on that subject. So instead I ask, “How long have you known him?”

“About ten years,” she says.

“Since he was nineteen?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“How did you two meet?”

Her jaw hardens. “That’s none of your business.”

Uh-huh. I sense I’m again approaching the difficult subject. I decide to proceed anyway. “Was that when he saved your life? Is that how you met him?”

She gives me a narrow-eyed look. “Nora, what did I tell you about prying?”

“Okay, fine . . .” Her non-answer is answer enough for me. I move on to another topic of interest. “So why did Julian bring me here? To this island, I mean? He’s not even here himself.”

“He’ll come back soon enough.” She gives me an ironic look. “Why, do you miss him?”

“No, of course not!” I give her an offended glare.

She raises her eyebrows. “Really? Not even a little bit?”

“Why would I miss that monster?” I hiss at her, uncontrollable anger suddenly boiling up from the pit of my stomach. “After what he did to me? To Jake?”

She laughs softly. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much . . .”

I jump to my feet, unable to bear the mockery in her voice any longer. In this moment, I hate her so much I would’ve gladly stabbed her with a knife if I had it handy. I’ve never had much of a temper, but something about Beth brings out the worst in me.

Thankfully, I regain control over myself before I storm off and make a complete fool of myself. Taking a deep breath, I pretend that I intended to get up all along. Walking to the water, I test the temperature with my toe and then walk back toward Beth, sitting down again.

“Really warm water on this side of the island,” I say calmly, as though I’m not still burning with anger inside.

“Yeah, the fish seem to like it here,” she replies in the same even tone. “I always catch some nice ones in this area.”

I nod and look out over the water. The sound of the waves is soothing, helping me control whatever it was that came over me. I don’t fully understand why I reacted so strongly to her teasing. Surely I should’ve just given her a contemptuous look and coldly dismissed her ridiculous suggestion. Instead I’d risen to her bait.

Could there be some truth to her words? Is that why they irritated me so much? Am I actually missing Julian?

The idea is so sickening that I want to throw up.

I try to think about it rationally for a bit, to sort through the confusing jumble of feelings in my chest.

Okay, yes, a small part of me does resent the fact that he left me here on this island, with only Beth for company. For someone who supposedly wanted me enough to steal me, Julian is certainly not being very attentive.

Not that I want his attentions. I want him to stay as far away from me as possible. But at the same time, I am oddly insulted that he’s staying away. It’s like I’m not desirable enough for him to want to be here.

As soon as I analyze it all logically, I see the absurdity of my contradictory emotions. The whole thing is so silly, I have to mentally kick myself.

I’m not going to be one of those girls who falls in love with their kidnapper. I refuse to be. I know being here on this island is screwing with my head, and I’m determined not to let it.

Perhaps I can’t escape from Julian, but I can keep him from getting under my skin.

* * *

Two days later, Julian returns.

I learn about it when he wakes me up from my nap on the beach.

At first, I think I’m having a dream. In my dream, I’m warm and safe in my bed. Gentle hands start stroking my body, soothing me, caressing me. I arch toward them, loving their touch on my skin, reveling in the pleasure they’re giving me.

And then I feel hot lips on my face, my neck, my collarbone. I moan softly, and the hands become more demanding, pulling at the straps of my bikini top, tugging the bikini bottoms off my legs . . .