Uncovering You 3: Resistance (Uncovering You, #3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Book Description:

  About the Series

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  The End.

  Uncovering You 4 comes out May 30th, 2014.

  Want more Uncovering You?

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  UNCOVERING YOU #3: RESISTANCE

  Copyright © 2014 Edwards Publishing, Ltd.

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Gail Lennon.

  Cover design by Scarlett Edwards.

  Interior design by Scarlett Edwards.

  Published by Edwards Publishing, Ltd.

  Edwards Publishing

  477 Peace Portal Drive

  Suite 107-154

  Blaine, WA 98230

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means---including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise---without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s work is appreciated.

  ISBN: 978-0-9937370-3-9

  Uncovering You 3:

  Resistance

  by Scarlett Edwards

  May 10, 2014

  EDWARDS PUBLISHING

  Book Description:

  Jeremy Stonehart is a cruel, vindictive man. He wants me to submit. He wants me to give in.

  I will never give in. I will never yield. No matter what he subjects me to, I will always fight. I will not forget my resolve.

  Let Stonehart think me broken. I am not so easily deterred as that. No matter what he puts me through, I will always remember my own strength. I will always remember that in the end, I have control of the one thing he really wants:

  My mind.

  I will never give him that.

  I will resist.

  –

  Uncovering You 3: Resistance contains scenes of intense emotional and physical abuse. Readers with sensitivity to such subjects are advised to proceed with caution.

  About the Series

  The story of Uncovering You unfolds over multiple volumes of approximately 125 pages each. Each volume is a fully-contained book with a climax and conclusion.

  Books in the Uncovering You series will be released every 20 days. Here is the anticipated schedule:

  Currently Available:

  Uncovering You 1: The Contract

  Uncovering You 2: Submission

  Uncovering You 3: Resistance

  Future Releases:

  Uncovering You #4 - May 30, 2014

  Uncovering You #5 - June 20, 2014

  Uncovering You #6 - TBA

  Note from Scarlett:

  I want it known in writing that I have the best readers in the world.

  Thank you, for all your support. This story would not and could not continue without you.

  Scarlett Edwards

  May 10, 2014.

  Chapter One

  Three days.

  That is how long I’ve been trapped on this bed.

  Three days.

  Three days of being a prisoner on a mattress.

  I can almost say that I preferred the floor. At least that way, I had the ability to move. I could stand, walk, stretch my legs.

  Now, all that is gone.

  I’m frightened of going over the edge. I remember the red, pulsing ring that Stonehart showed me when I awoke here. It cut over the four corners of the bed.

  When I sleep, I curl up in a tight ball in the middle. I try not to move.

  It’s hard.

  I’ve started having nightmares. All of them revolve around him. But in my dreams, I cannot see his face. It is cloaked in deep shadows.

  All I see is the shining light reflecting off his dark, cruel eyes. Watching me. Always, watching me.

  I dream of snakes, too. I do not know why. I dream of snakes wrapping themselves around my body and constricting my movements. I dream of serpents slithering around on the floor. I dream of fangs sinking into my flesh, and—

  Those are the dreams I wake from screaming. More often than not, I’m tangled in my bed sheets and drenched in sweat. My heart is always pounding when I awake. My first terrifying thought is that I’ve thrashed over the boundary.

  That hasn’t happened yet. Thank God. But I’ve come close.

  On the second night, I awoke with my face inches away from the edge. I froze as soon as I saw how close I’d come to activating the collar.

  I remember the adrenaline that shot through my body when I realized that I had almost triggered it.

  I haven’t seen Stonehart since he brought me here. I haven’t had any communications from him, either. No notes. No messages.

  Rose has been absent as well.

  I don’t know how long Stonehart intends to keep me on the bed. My only solace is that the blinds are not closed. I haven’t been left in the dark. During the day, sunshine floods my room. At night, stars twinkle against the dark sea outside.

  But not today. A storm is raging out there. Heavy clouds hide the sun. Rain pounds against the enormous windows.

  I’ve never seen the ocean this angry. Massive waves crash into the cliffs below me. Though I can’t see the shoreline, sometimes I imagine I can feel the vibrations they send through the house.

  Each day, I’ve woken to a small, wheeled tray of food by my bed. It’s always accompanied by a clean chamber pot. Provisions are not as bad as they were before I signed the contract.

  But, that’s not to say they don’t leave me wanting.

  It might be just my imagination, but every day, the food cart seems to appear just a little farther from me. Today, I had to hook it with my foot to roll it closer. I almost knocked it farther away by accident.

  I know now there are cameras all around the sunroom. I can’t see them. But I know they’re there all the same, hidden in the crevices of the ceiling.

  It’s not the cameras that are the worst. It’s not being confined to this bed that is the worst. It’s the not knowing.

  I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here.

  That frightens me. Three days isn’t that bad, but what happens when three become seven? What happens when a week turns into a month? What happens when a month turns into… more?

  There’s also the sense of injustice. It’s a ridiculous sentiment to hold. I would be an idiot to expect justice from Stonehart. But the feeling of injustice is there, nonetheless.

  I didn’t break his rules. I shouldn’t be trapped here.

  The promise of continuous freedoms granted by the Tokens of Good Behavior is the only thing sustaining me right now. Stonehart said that TGBs cannot be taken away. I’ve saved up enough to be allowed into the rest of the house.

  Of course, I had to go and screw things up my first day.

  I still don’t know what possessed me to think it was a good idea to go sneaking around his bedroom. Worse than that, I hated the guilt that I felt when Stonehart discovered me there. I felt like I had done something wrong. My guilt made it impossible to think clearly. Couple that with the surprise I felt when I found him sta
nding there—he was supposed to be away! Add to that the fear clenching my insides, and you have the makings of a disastrous situation.

  The worst was my reaction. I acted guilty because I thought he’d caught me in his office. He said something along the same lines: that since I thought I had broken his rules, I should be punished as if I actually had.

  I must have replayed my last interaction with him a hundred times in my mind. I’d let my fear of punishment overwhelm me when I was with him. I acted like a frightened, little girl.

  It made things worse.

  What I should have done, what it would have been smart to do, is to stand up to him. I remember the moment we shared in the elevator before this whole nightmare began. Or at least, before I knew it had begun.

  I’m sure I was already his target.

  He told me to impress him. He wanted me for… what did he say it was? For my mind. He asked me what I thought of his decision to take Stonehart Industries public.

  At that point, I’d bungled my disastrous first impression so badly that I thought I had nothing to lose. I stood straight, looked him in the eyes, and told him boldly—exactly—what I thought.

  I remember his reaction. He appreciated my honesty. Moreover, I think, he liked the fact that I’d stood up for myself. I wasn’t simpering before him like his company’s board of directors.

  Holy shit.

  I sit straight up in bed, gripped by the revelation. Could that be it? Could he want me to act bold and defiant? He told me to kick, to fight, to struggle… He said that it turns him on.

  Is that who he wants me to be? The woman who can challenge him without breaking down?

  A light goes off in my head. I’ve been going about this whole captive thing the wrong way this entire time! I’m almost positive that’s it. Stonehart does not want to see me cower. He does not want to see me meek.

  He wants me defiant, confident, and strong.

  No wonder he told me the story about him growing up. He warned me of the danger of what I was doing. I thought I could trick him by acting broken. I thought that’s what I would need to do to get him to underestimate me and lower his guard.

  But that behavior had the exact opposite effect. It made him suspicious. It did not jive with what he knew about me.

  Stonehart told me how he developed a taste for vengeance. He said he could see that trait in others.

  In short, he was warning me that he could see through my act.

  I have to remember that he is a ruthless businessman. He could not have risen to the top if he was not cold and calculating. Stonehart Industries would not be one of the most powerful private corporations in America if it were run by a man who could not read, understand, and manipulate people.

  That must be the real reason he’s punishing me now. Hell, he might even be a man of his word. He told me his rules:

  “Rule One.” Stonehart’s voice is sharp and clipped. “If you resist, or don’t comply with a clause set out in the contract, you will suffer the consequence of misbehavior.” His intonation makes the labeling sound extremely ominous.

  “Rule Two. You are explicitly prohibited from any form of self-harm. I will not have you—” he sneers at me, “—spoiling yourself.”

  “Three. You are not allowed to question my desires. Questions pertaining to your situation are prohibited.” He kneels in front of me and I catch a whiff of his cologne. To think that it once functioned as an aphrodisiac is insane.

  “Rule Four,” Stonehart continues, pacing the room with his hands behind his back. “I am a busy man. I will not always have time for you. However, you have no responsibilities other than pleasing me. I expect you to always be ready for me.”

  He stops and looks into my eyes. “Do you understand? The time I make for you is a privilege. Treat it as such. Dress and act accordingly.”

  Those were his rules. He said if I broke them, he would leave me in the dark.

  Well, I didn’t break any of his rules. And he didn’t leave me in the dark. I may be trapped on the small island of this bed, but I am definitely not in the dark.

  He’s not punishing me because he found me in the surveillance room… but because he knows that I was trying to deceive him. He knows I was trying to act like somebody that I’m not.

  I have to stand up to him. Given my current situation, that is a terrifying proposition. But I have to choose the lesser of two evils. Either I keep trying to be meek, as per my original plan, and hope he underestimates me… or, I can find my old backbone and act like the woman I truly am.

  I thought he wanted to see me broken. But if Stonehart is as shrewd as I think he is—no, as shrewd as I know he is—then he’s already seen through the act. The right thing for me to do—the only chance I really have—is to be myself.

  The only way I’m going to get anywhere is if I start acting like the person I am, instead of the person I think he wants me to be.

  ***

  I hear a door open behind me. I whip around. This is the first time anyone has come in while I was awake.

  I hear footsteps against the marble floor before I see their owner. Even so, I know right away that it’s him. There’s a confidence to the tap of those shoes that belongs to someone completely at ease and in control of his surroundings.

  I see Stonehart emerge from the entrance to the rest of the mansion. My stomach does a flip at the sight of him, but not out of fear.

  He looks… good. There’s more stubble on his jawline than I’ve ever seen. The shadow suits his face. His jet black hair is styled back as usual, with a small, stray lick dropping over his forehead.

  His shoulders are thrown back, filling out the width of his jacket. His clothes are crisp and fresh, even though I know from the time of day that he’s just returning from work. There’s a particular strut in his step that I haven’t encountered before. I guess he’s had a successful day.

  My eyes follow him as he walks toward me. His lips twitch up in a semblance of a smile.

  “Hello, Lilly,” he croons. He walks a circle around the bed. “You’re looking quite lovely tonight.”

  I glance down at my soiled clothing and stare back at him. “You’re kidding. I haven’t showered for three days.”

  He tilts his head to the side and purses his lips. “Now, whose fault is that?”

  “Mine,” I say without hesitation. I make sure to meet his eyes as I do.

  He nods. “Correct. I don’t appreciate sloppiness. You are entirely to blame for your current condition. But, still…” His eyes sweep over me. “There is something very evocative about seeing you like this.”

  I sit up straighter. “Are you here only to compliment me?” I ask, “Or do you have a real purpose?”

  This time, Stonehart does smile. “Spunk,” he observes. “You were missing it before. It seems this period of isolation has done you good.”

  “It depends on your perspective,” I say sweetly.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is your perspective on this matter, pray tell?”

  “Isolation has given me time to think.”

  “Hmm,” Stonehart intones. “Well, Lilly, I hope it was the type of thinking that will allow you to avoid situations like this in the future.” He sits at the foot of the bed and looks up at me. “Because, to be honest…” his hand slides up my bare leg, “…I’ve missed having you… on call.”

  My eyes tighten in indignation. I jerk my leg away. He frowns at me.

  “Now, now,” he soothes, “just because we’ve been apart doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten the rules of our engagement, does it?”

  “No,” I say. “I remember.”

  His voice deepens a tiny bit. “Then why,” he asks, “did you just pull away?”

  I answer him without a trace of fear or hesitation. “You told me to always be ready for you.” I give him a sweet smile. “Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond my control, I’ve been rendered incapable of fulfilling that obligation.”

  He chuckles. “Learning
,” he says. “You’re learning, Lilly.”

  Without warning, he stands up. He glances at his watch. “It’s six-fifteen. Dinner is at seven. I trust you’ll have enough time to get prepared?”

  I allow myself to look past the edge of my bed for the first time in days. I can barely contain the excitement in my voice. “You mean, you’ve lifted the boundary?”

  Stonehart’s eyes gleam at me. “Sweetheart, the boundary around your bed was removed the moment I left your room last time.” He taps the side of his head. “The restrictions have all been in here, for you.”

  Chapter Two

  I slam the shower door angrily and jab my hand out for the soap. The spray of hot water is doing a fantastic job washing off the filth that’s built up on my skin over the last few days, but I’m barely aware of it.

  I’m furious. Livid. Stonehart just told me that the only reason I’ve let myself get to this condition is because of a boundary I imagined. The collar’s range was extended from around my bed the moment he left the sunroom three days ago.

  I don’t know if I’m angrier with myself or with him. I don’t even know if he was telling the truth. That’s what makes it so bad! I have no way of knowing whether the boundary was ever actually there or not.

  This is all a mind game. I know that’s what it is. Everything about this situation is a mind game. A sick and twisted game dreamt up by a perverted man.

  I don’t know the purpose of it. I don’t pretend to know what Stonehart’s aims are.

  I try to calm myself by reiterating that this type of reaction is exactly what Stonehart wants. It’s no use. I can’t contain my anger.

  It’s a ridiculous reaction. It’s not like I would have willingly tested the boundary of this damned collar. The shock the collar gave me that one time was one of the worst experiences of my life.

  Still, the injustice of it gnaws at me. I spent three full days confined to that bed, afraid to move, because of something that might not have even existed.