Chapter 7 Hiding
Adeline drove away from the house with a tight grip on the steering wheel. Her chest felt heavy, not from the drive, but from the memory of Patrick’s hands around her neck. She could still feel the pressure, the panic, and the sudden sting that had burned across her skin. She hated that she had let him get that close and hated that he had caught her unprepared, even if only for a second.
She had planned on going to Julian’s. She always did. That had been the safest plan in her mind, the one that felt natural after all that had happened, but now, with the bruising on her neck, she couldn’t risk letting him see her like that.
She would never let him know just how close she had come to being helpless. Julian didn’t need to see that weakness, not ever.
Her father had taught her well, yes, but life with her brothers had been her real school. A school of survival, of cunning, of never letting someone get the upper hand. She had learned to hide her injuries, to mask her failures, and to present only strength. Even in her private moments, even when she thought no one was watching, she couldn’t let her guard drop completely.
Julian Hale was not a man she could fully trust. He had always been her enemy, in more ways than one, and she had to remind herself of that.
The city lights blurred past her as she navigated the streets. Adeline knew exactly where she was going, which was a small, discreet hotel on the edge of downtown. The kind of place that didn’t attract attention, didn’t have doormen lingering on the sidewalk, and didn’t host extravagant events that reporters could crash. It was perfect, safe, and anonymous.
She parked the car under the low light of a street lamp, then waited, letting the engine cool and her pulse slow. Her hands were still trembling slightly, but she forced herself to breathe evenly, counting silently to ten, then twenty. She couldn’t let the fear linger, couldn’t let Patrick’s hands or words shake her. She had to remain composed. That was her armor and her shield.
Inside the lobby, the clerk barely looked up when she checked in. She handed over her card, signed the receipt, and received a key in return. Room 307. On the third floor, away from the street. Private, and perfect.
The hallway smelled faintly of bleach and cleaning products, a sterile smell that somehow felt safe. Adeline unlocked the door and stepped inside. The room was small but tidy with a king-sized bed with white sheets, a desk pushed against the far wall, and a lamp glowing softly beside it. She set her bag down on the chair and finally allowed herself to relax, if only slightly.
Her fingers brushed against her neck. The bruise was already visible under the thin fabric of her blouse. She pulled her hair forward, hoping it would hide the mark from any casual glance. She doubted anyone would see her here, but the sight of it still made her stomach twist.
Patrick had always been controlling, always subtle about his anger, but today he had crossed a line she could not ignore.
She stood in the middle of the hotel room for a moment, then slowly exhaled. Thinking about Patrick and what he did would not help her now. She needed a clear head, and more importantly, she needed to reset.
Without another thought, she walked toward the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She turned on the shower and let the water heat up, and when the water was warm enough, she stepped inside. The heat ran down her shoulders and over her neck, and she flinched slightly when it touched the sore skin where his fingers had pressed.
She tilted her head back and let the water fall over her face, washing away the last traces of stress. For the first few minutes, her mind refused to quiet down. Images of the house, Patrick’s expression, and the way his hand had tightened all tried to return, but she quickly forced them away.
She focused on simple things instead, like the sound of water and the steady rhythm of her breathing. Slowly, her muscles began to relax, and she stayed there for almost half an hour, longer than she planned. By the time she stepped out, her skin was warm and slightly pink from the heat.
She wrapped herself in a thick white towel and walked back into the room. Her hair was damp and hanging loosely down her back. Her phone sat on the nightstand where she had left it, and for a second, she hesitated before picking it up.
She unlocked the screen only to see that new headlines of her had already appeared. She read a few lines from each article, and most of them repeated the same story. Her speech, the kiss, and the announcement. As expected, very few praised her boldness, many called her reckless, and a few suggested the entire thing had been planned.
The media was not moving on, and she hated it. She was just about to turn off her phone when she noticed the missed calls she had from Julian, and her jaw tightened slightly.
She stared at his name for a few seconds before pressing the call button, and the phone only rang once before he picked up.
“Where are you?” he asked.
Adeline leaned back against the headboard, adjusting the towel around her chest. “Hello to you too, Julian,” she replied calmly.
“Adeline,” he said again, firmer this time. “I’ve been waiting for you to call me. Aren't you on your way?”
She could hear in his voice that he had expected her, and it made her feel strange, but she quickly pushed away the emotion.
“I changed my mind,” she replied.
There was a short silence on the other end. “You changed your mind,” he repeated slowly.
“Yes.”
There was another pause before he spoke again. “I thought you were coming here,” he said. “You said you didn’t want to be alone.”
“I know what I said,” she answered evenly. “But it’s too soon for us to stay together.”
“Too soon,” he said again, like he was testing the words.
Adeline looked down at her free hand, tracing a faint line across the towel. “Everything just happened, Julian,” she continued. “I just need time on my own to figure out how to handle it.”
“I thought we already established that you won't be handling anything alone,” he said.
“I know,” she replied. “But I still need space to think.”
On the other end of the line, she heard him let out a low grunt. Then his voice shifted slightly. “Did you change your mind about my proposal too?”
Her fingers froze, and he continued before she answered. “Because if you have, I’d rather know now. I don’t like being blindsided.”
She almost laughed at that, especially because the word sounded strange coming from him. She opened her mouth to say no and to tell him she had not changed her mind. That marrying him still made sense and that it was the smartest move, but then she stopped.
Julian Hale liked control, he liked certainty, and he liked knowing exactly where he stood, but right now, she was not ready to give him that comfort.
“Nothing is set in stone yet, Julian,” she said instead.
There was silence again, and this time it lasted longer. “What does that mean?” he asked quietly.
“It means,” she replied, keeping her voice calm, “that we rushed into this conversation, and we made decisions in the middle of chaos. It’s not ideal.”
“You agreed,” he reminded her.
“Yes,” she answered. “And I still might, but I need time.”
“Time for what?” he pressed.
“To think clearly,” she said, and she could almost picture him running a hand through his hair and his jaw tight.
“Adeline,” he said slowly, “don’t start playing games with me, Carter.”
A small smile touched her lips. “I’m not playing any sort of games, Hale,” she said softly. “I’m exhausted.”
That part was true. “The last twenty-four hours have been a lot,” she added. “And I need to sleep.”
He did not respond immediately, and when he spoke again, his voice was more controlled. “Where are you?”
She ignored the question. “We’ll talk later,” she said.
“Adeline…”
“I’m tired, Julian. We’ll talk tomorrow,” she cut him off, and before he could continue, she ended the call, and the room fell silent again.
If Julian wanted to stand beside her publicly, he would need to understand that she was not someone he could predict easily, and she wasn't going to make things easy for him.
A moment later, her phone buzzed, and when she checked, it was a message from him.
She looked down at it, and it simply said, “I’ll find you, and we’ll talk better in person.”