Running From You

Jane Hendricks hated her life.

All the money in the world couldn't buy her freedom, which was ironic because she had a lot of it. She wanted to scream, hoped that some deity somewhere would hear her cry for help and run to her aid. At twenty-four, she was everything she ever hoped to be: beautiful, rich, and hopelessly in love with the man of her dreams.

The only problem was he wasn't the man her parents wanted for her. From the age of five, she'd been told constantly who she was going to marry. She was betrothed to some rich kid who probably didn't know how to do his own laundry or brew a decent cup of coffee.

It was settled; there was no going back. The wedding was to take place on her twenty-fifth birthday, three days away. Jane frowned at her dressing mirror. Didn't she matter? Did her wants and desires mean so little to her parents? Preparations had been made. Her wedding dress was hanging in her closet, practically mocking her. Her mother had been over the moon with excitement. Word had been sent to newspapers regarding the blissful union of the two richest families in Los Angeles, whose beloved children would soon be bound in holy matrimony.

Jane would rather sew her head to a carpet than marry some dickhead she'd never even seen before. She'd be miserable her entire life. It was bad enough that her parents had pulled her into a career in business when she had wanted to pursue painting. Now they wanted to dictate who she'd spend the rest of her life with too?

Her twin brother, Matt, was a pussy. Desperate for their father's approval, he never did anything that might anger the old man. Running to him for help would be futile. Her younger sister, Grace, was just sixteen. Her opinion wouldn't start to matter to their parents until she was much older, so that was a dead end too.

Jane had tried talking to her parents herself, had tried to get them to see reason, but it had been a waste of time. Apparently, the family company meant more to them than she did. She was just another method to make more money.

Jane hissed. To hell with this, her mind cursed. She wasn't doing it. Nobody got to tell her how to live her life. She'd had to break up with Elijah, which was one of the hardest, most painful things she'd ever done. How could she now explain that she was marrying someone else?

She stood from the stool she'd been sitting on and walked to her window. Small arms wrapped around her middle as she looked out over her family's estate. The sun shone brightly on the rose bushes under her window, coloring their buds a sharp red. What was she going to do?

What did he even look like? She'd never bothered to find out. The only time she'd asked about him, her parents had told her he wasn't in the country, and that had been so many years ago now that the memory was fuzzy. He supposedly wasn't a fan of cameras, so he stayed out of the limelight. From what she'd heard, his parents didn't have any pictures of him as an adult either.

For a while, their engagement had been bearable. He'd stayed out of her life, and she'd stayed out of his. In fact, one could say she'd forgotten about him.

Once in a while, her mother would give her jewelry and say it was a gift from him. Jane had never believed her. He didn't know her, so why would he be sending her gifts? The jewels were always expensive too: a gold necklace, a diamond ring, bracelets made up of real gemstones. Jane had stacked them in a big shoe box, which she then stuffed deep in her closet. She didn't care for trinkets.