Page 23 of Entrapped
I shook my head, pulling away from Vaughn. “It’s too late,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. “It’s too late for me.”
“Joey, are you going to tell me the truth? What does he have on you? Why can’t you leave?”
I moved my gaze from his. “I just can’t.”
How could I tell him that I sold my soul to the devil to protect my family, to give them a future that was torn from them by his family? Who does that and how would it sound?
Vaughn didn’t move, his hand still outstretched, his eyes pleading with me to take it. But I couldn’t. I turned away, walking back the way I had come. As I left the park, I felt Vaughn’s eyes on me, a silent reminder of what could have been, of the life I could have had if things were different.
But they weren’t. And as much as I wanted to believe otherwise, I knew there was no escape.
Chapter 10
Today was take two for my party skills, and the weather seemed to reflect the mood inside. Vaughn had asked Serena for her hand in marriage, and tonight was the engagement party that Colson and I were hosting in their honor. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, yet the relentless fall rain outside mirrored the gloom in Vaughn's eyes. He looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole rather than celebrate his impending nuptials.
I made my way through the party, offering smiles to the guests, exchanging pleasantries, and keeping my hands busy with a champagne flute that I had no intention of drinking from. The house was warm and filled with soft candlelight, but no amount of décor could lift the heavy atmosphere. The tension was palpable, and it wasn’t just the weather.
Colson was his usual charming self, effortlessly moving through the room, shaking hands, and engaging in small talk as if everything was perfect. I envied his ability to put on a façade, to hide the truth behind that polished exterior. I caught his eye from across the room, and he gave me a brief nod—his silent command to keep the evening on track.
As I approached Vaughn, I noticed how he was standing apart from the crowd, leaning against the mantel with a glass of scotch in his hand. His fiancée, Serena, was across the room, laughing with a group of women, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing inside her soon-to-be husband.
"Congratulations," I said softly, coming to stand beside Vaughn.
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a long sip of his drink, staring into the amber liquid as if it held the answers to all his problems. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and strained. "Does it feel like a congratulations to you, Josephine?"
I glanced over at Serena, who was now flashing her engagement ring to an admiring crowd. "I suppose that depends on what you’re congratulating yourself for," I replied, keeping my tone light.
Vaughn let out a bitter laugh. "For being the perfect son, the perfect fiancé...the perfect puppet." He looked at me, his eyes dark and brooding. "What about you, Josephine? How does it feel to be married to the man who pulls all the strings?"
I stiffened at his words, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "Vaughn, this isn’t the time."
"Isn't it?" He tilted his head, his gaze boring into mine. "When is the right time, then? When we're all too deep in the lies to ever find our way out?"
I felt a chill run down my spine, and it wasn’t from the drafty old house. "You made your choice," I said, my voice firmer than I felt. "And now you have to live with it."
He shook his head, a mirthless smile tugging at his lips. "You’re right. I did make my choice. But it’s not just me who has to livewith it, is it? We’re all trapped in the Ashworth mess. And you’re becoming just like him," he said, gesturing to Colson.
The same argument. I didn’t have a response to that. I couldn’t argue with him, not when he was right. But I also couldn’t let him drag me down into his despair, not here, not now.
"Vaughn," I said, lowering my voice so only he could hear, "you need to get it together. For tonight, at least.”
He studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. "You’re right. I’ll play the part, just like you do."
Before I could respond, Serena approached us, her smile bright but her eyes wary. "What are you two whispering about?" she asked, sliding her arm around Vaughn's.
"Just giving my best wishes to the happy couple," I replied smoothly, returning her smile.
Serena seemed satisfied with that and turned her attention back to Vaughn, who immediately plastered on a smile for her benefit. But as they walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this engagement was a ticking time bomb. Vaughn didn’t want to be unhappy but the only thing that would make him happy was me.
I made my way back to Colson, who was now engaged in a conversation with Bart Henderson. He glanced at me as I approached, his expression unreadable. I took my place by his side, slipping my arm through his as if everything was perfectly fine. But inside, I was just as miserable as Vaughn, trapped in a cage of my own making.
I stood silently by Colson's side, listening to the conversation between him and Bart Henderson, my thoughts only half on their discussion. My mind was still on Vaughn and the uneasethat settled over the evening like a dark cloud. I barely noticed when a server approached, leaning in to speak quietly in my ear.
"Mrs. Ashworth, could you come to the kitchen for a moment?" the server asked, her voice laced with urgency.
My stomach sank. I knew what this was about before I even stepped away from Colson's side. It was happening again.
As I walked to the kitchen, the murmur of conversation faded, replaced by the low hum of anxiety. The moment I entered the room, I saw Simone. She was slumped against the counter, eyes glassy and unfocused, and the chef was eyeing her warily, clearly hoping she wouldn’t vomit on his carefully prepared dishes.
