Unbound, Boundless Series, Book 2

Chapter Thirty

PERLA

Waiting for my discharge from the hospital was not easy. I felt protected during my stay. I was checked on often by nurses and doctors, and I hadn't feared another kidnapping attempt while an inpatient. Knowing my captor was on the loose left me anxious and scared because he knew my home address. The biggest concern was the captor's motive. The only people who have it out for me are the Pentagon men. And I couldn't believe that, no matter how angry he was at me, Matt had it out for me. If his stocks were that important, he could have fought me in court for them—not harm me for the rights to revert back to him. 

I shook those intrusive thoughts. 

Chelsea kept me company at the hospital the whole night. She made me feel like we were having a grown-up sleepover. She brought a few magazines and books from the gift shop. I tried cheering her up, making jokes, and reminiscing about our youth. She'd been in a sad mood ever since I woke up from my nap.

Before Chelsea drove me home, I asked her to take me to the mall in Saugus. I wanted to go to a big box store for some technology. I was excited to purchase a laptop, a tablet, and a current smartphone with my same telephone number. The saleswoman informed me how I could program the tablet and the smartphone to provide the laptop with internet capability. I was happy to get home with my new toys. I'd never spent so much money on technology in my life. Succumbing to trends was out of my character but if I was going to play the part of the executive at Pentagon, I needed to be prepared with all the bells and whistles.

I was too tired to go clothes shopping. Knowing I had plenty of appropriate clothes for the remainder of the week, I decided there was plenty of time to shop for dresses and ready to mix and match tops and bottoms. Chelsea took me home. I retrieved my mail and found the large manila envelope with copies of my contract, employment letter, and human resources paperwork I needed to fill out and submit on my first day of work.

Chelsea wanted to stay and help me, but I shooed her out of my apartment and sent her home to be with her husband. She wouldn't be comfortable staying in my place. It would've been nice to convalesce with someone staying with me. I missed not having Matt around. I knew he would take amazing care of me. I resigned myself to forever being alone, and the notion made me weep. 

How could I trust another man? The only man I could trust was my father, but with his advanced age, he wouldn't be able to be there for me for much longer. When it came to receiving love from a partner, I was a failure.

"Shit. I miss him," I sobbed out, dropping my head in my hands. 

My head hurt, checking the time to see if I could take a pain killer. I had an hour until I could take more meds. I could've asked Matt to assist me with pain medication dosages and timelines. I wanted to see him. Even a picture would've satisfied my need to connect. I lay in bed and turned on my new tablet, searching for his picture that was in order. 

I hadn't him up since my discovery and in-depth research of Pentagon. There were so many images of him in various settings and at different ages. At the time, I couldn't appreciate seeing him with his four friends sitting on the lawn of their school, or the picture of them graduating from boarding school. There was a picture of Matt with jet black hair and bare-faced. He looked so young and handsome, like a model for a preppy clothing company. I wondered when he'd decided to grow out his hair and beard.

An online search of Dr. Mathias Keene produced hundreds of pictures. Scrolling through the images, the first dozen pictures were professional headshots for his medical practice. Pictures of him under Pentagon headings were mixed in. The ones which stole my breath were pictures of him in social settings . . . with his ex-wife. I could barely breathe. 

She was stunning. I made the mistake of looking at each picture, reading each caption, and comparing myself to her. She may have been a lovely woman, but at the moment, I despised her.

Sonia Carrion Keene had it all; a handsome husband, who practiced medicine, rich beyond her wildest dreams, and beauty that made men melt into a puddle of mush. Her long blonde hair cascaded along her creamy, slender shoulder. She stood beside Matt, smiling wide and baring her perfect white teeth. However, he looked stern and serious, much like the man I met in the examination room. Sonia's bright blue eyes were captured flawlessly by the light. In heels, she was a few inches shorter than Matt. All I could focus on were her impeccably symmetrical facial features. She was a classic beauty, similar to the lead actresses in an Alfred Hitchcock film.

"Why me?" I whispered the question. I really hadn't asked the question before because I wasn't curious about Sonia. Wanting Matt was the only thing on my mind, but since he was out of the picture, I questioned every fragment of time we spent together. 

If he wasn't interested, a man wouldn't continue fucking a woman for months after obtaining what he'd used her for. Even weeks after my last sexual encounter with Matt, I could still feel his desire for me. His fingertips, gliding over my inner thighs to part them, still prickled my skin. "He fuckin' wanted me." I exhaled and nodded adamantly.

I lightly pressed my finger to his picture, sliding it along his jawline. My eyes welled with tears and my heart burned with ache. I loved touching his lips, running my thumb on the bottom lip as he flicked his tongue on the pad of my finger. He'd pretend to try to bite my thumb. Even through sorrow, I could still smile at the sweet memories of our time together. The nagging feeling it was all a lie invaded momentarily and passed. The image onscreen moved, awakening me from my reveries.

The nagging urge to call him infiltrated my mind. I just wanted to hear his deep voice. Instead, I searched for a video of him; any recording of his voice and image would do. I shrieked with glee when I found an interview he filmed a year ago for a sports program asking him about the recovery of a local college basketball player. My heart skipped a beat and my pussy creamed at the sight of him. My body quivered in response to the stimuli of his virtual presence.

When the video was over, I felt satisfied. The act of watching him online wouldn't be good for me to move forward, but it would give me instant gratification during these lonely periods of time. I set the tablet on my nightstand and plugged it in to charge. I heated some soup I found in my freezer.

As I ate, a thought came to mind. How would I handle meeting with him regularly?

I didn't know what I would do. Not seeing him in person for two weeks had been difficult, but freed me from the emotional rollercoaster I'd been on. I did wonder if he was in town or had gone to Europe, as was expected. I dared not ask any of his friends where he was. My mental faculties didn't allow for a subtle inquiry into Matt's whereabouts or how he was doing. It was no longer any of my business. I made sure of it when I kept his shares and revealed the sex tape Brady blackmailed me with.

I had no plan of how to get out of this crazy mess. 

The kidnapping made me hyper-aware that I'd made many people despise me enough to cause me harm. Losing everything in my divorce from Ben, left me stagnant financially and professionally, but it also left me emotionally crippled and mistrusting. I felt no other option, but to turn the tables on Brady and accept the shares and use the sex tape as leverage to keep the gift. When the opportunity to regain my financial independence and expand my career options was placed in my hands, I had to take the best option for me. My desire for an opportunity to prove myself in corporate America and make money for the present and save for the future overshadowed my love for Matt. 

A big part of me was sure that ending our relationship was a means of beating Matt to the punch of ending our relationship before he realized he truly wasn't in love with me.