Page 3 of Their Property
Igripped the edge of my skirt and pulled the fabric down toward my knees for the hundredth time. My clothes were modest enough for the territory of Sevier. I just had to not psych myself out for when the governor and his cabinet would surely inspect me through a microscope.
The landscape raced by outside my car window, all craggy rock formations that looked like giants in the setting sun. Home was far behind me now, and getting farther with each rotation of the armored SUV’s wheels.
Anxiety fluttered in my stomach, but most of it was excitement. I hadn’t left my father’s territory, Four Corners, in four long years. How poetic was that?
My feelings on that leaned more toward resentment than serendipitous, however. It tookthislong to convince my father that I wouldn’t get kidnapped again if I stepped outside of his territory. Four years to make him see that I was a grown woman, not a helpless child. Four years of fighting and insisting that I could handle myself, within reason.
My captivity in Blakeworth had changed me, though my father was hard-pressed to believe it. I wasn’t so naive, so blindly trusting anymore. In fact, I could count the number of people I trusted on one hand and still have fingers left over.
That didn’t mean I wanted to be locked up and hidden away forever.
Months ago, I’d applied to be an ambassador in Sevier and jumped for joy when I was accepted. My father said nothing. He locked himself in his study and didn’t come out for a full day. I feared the worst, like he might actually imprison me in my room as I had been in Blakeworth. But as overprotective as Governor Vance was, he loved me and wanted me to be happy.
Malcom Blake had only wanted to control me.
My father emerged from his study with tears in his eyes and held my hands. He said, “My biggest fear is losing you like I lost your mother. My second biggest fear is my child hating me because I crushed her dreams.”
I left for my ambassadorship three months later. Poor Dad fretted and fussed like a mother hen the whole time leading up to my departure.
“You need to be closely guarded at all times. Things are still tense with Blakeworth,” he’d said during a meeting. “General Bray, can we spare any of your best officers to be Kyrie’s personal guard detail while she’s in Sevier?”
“I’m afraid not, Governor,” the general said regretfully. “We can certainly escort you there, Miss Vance, but I don’t have the men to spare for a twenty-four seven job for the duration of her term.”
“Sevier has a capable military, Dad,” I said in an attempt to reassure him. “I’ve been communicating with the cabinet members. I’m sure they’ll find people to watch me eat, sleep, and shit.”
General Bray covered his mouth to hide his laugh while Dad blanched. His reactions to my profanity were always priceless.
“No, no. I need people I personally trust to guard you.” Dad waved his hand dismissively. “No strangers. If we don’t have the men here, then I need to make some calls.”
I never did find out who he selected and, frankly, I didn’t care. A fresh chapter of my life was starting in a brand new territory. I loved my father, but growing up as a politician’s daughter in a post-Collapse world was stifling.
My gilded cage started feeling too small when I was around fifteen. At eighteen, Dad finally gave me a little leeway by allowing me to accompany him on diplomatic trips to other territories.
That was how I met Malcolm Blake, on a diplomatic tour of Blakeworth. Our fathers were clearly trying to set us up, but I didn’t care then. Malcom was cute. Sweet, but devilish enough to not be bland. He charmed me and wrote me sweet letters after I returned home.
Then he kidnapped and imprisoned me at nineteen. I’d been rescued and returned home, but the damage was done. Dad locked his precious daughter in her gilded cage and threw away the key.
Until now.
I turned away from the car window to look at the man in the driver’s seat. “How much farther to the capitol, Lieutenant?”
“Under half an hour, Miss Vance.” Lieutenant Gonzalez’s tone was clipped, but it didn’t hamper my excitement in the least.
In a moment of boldness, I pressed the button on my door that lowered the window and stuck my head out into the rushing wind. A smile pulled at my lips unconsciously, my eyes falling shut at the cool blast of air. My hair whipped around me, getting tangled and out of control like a pile of straw, but did I care?
Not in the slightest. I could pretend I was on the back of a motorcycle like this. Instead of the armrest, I held the broad body of a man sitting in front of me, driving his iron steed with a mixture of brute strength and careful handling. For two days, it had been nothing but wind, the road, and us. It was pure freedom. Realfreedom—the kind without any fear. My taste of it had been the smallest crumb, but it was enough to get me hooked.
Not a day went by that I didn’t think of those men who’d saved me, with their loud guns and louder bikes. They sent the Blakeworth elites scattering like mice but never laid a hand on me. That motorcycle ride was a priceless gift and one of my most treasured memories.
But then my father never let me out of his sight. And the bikers who saved me? They left Four Corners and never came back.
“Miss Vance?”
A tap on my shoulder drew me out of my fantasy, and I pulled my head back inside the car to glare at the soldier in the backseat with me. Immediately, my window rolled up.
“Please keep the windows up and everything inside the vehicle,” he said. “That’s bulletproof glass, and we don’t want to take any chances.”
I resisted the urge to sigh and roll my eyes. “Duly noted, thank you.” I folded my hands in my lap and resumed looking straight ahead.
