Free His Absolute Proposal: An Illicit Billionaire Love Story (Elise, #3) by Cerys du Lys Page A

about writing or about books or about anything.  I couldn't talk to her at all.  I couldn't call her.  This wasn't a vacation for the fun of it, this was running away out of necessity.
    It was supposed to be scary, but I'd inadvertently become excited at the prospect.  I was scared, too, though.  Scared and hurt, my heart pounding in my chest.  I didn't know how to feel.
    Asher and Lucent and Jessika were talking, but I couldn't hear it.  I saw their lips move, and I knew they were saying something, but their words refused to take shape in my mind.  I couldn't make sense of it.  I heard the constant throbbing of my heart, my pulse, and then my breathing.  That was it.
    Asher left.  Jessika left, too.  She went into her bedroom.  What was she doing?  I stared after her, confused.
    Lucent's voice reached me, his lips pressed close to my ear, whispering.  "I'm sorry, Elise," he said.
    "No, I..."
    Jessika returned.  Her lips were moving again but I couldn't understand her.  I stared at her, unsure.
    "You know the address for both, don't you?"
    Both?  I scrunched up my brow.  Both of what?  Addresses?  Oh!  Oh, yes.  Yes.  Their mansion and Landseer Tower.  She'd said that, asked me about it.  Why?
    "I know Landseer Tower," I said.  I turned to Lucent, hoping he could help me, hoping he could save me.  "Lucent, do you know the address to Jessika and Asher's house?"
    He nodded.  His hand moved towards my side, holding my hip.  Slow and careful, almost imperceptibly, he pulled me closer to his side.  I went, gladly.
    "Yes," he said.  "That shouldn't be an issue."
    I had my purse.  When did I get it?  Jessika brought some things to me.  We put them in my purse together: some batteries, a small notepad, an envelope, a pen, and two stamps.
    Jessika went to get her shoes so we could leave.  She wasn't coming with us, but she was showing us the way out.  I stared down at my purse, looking inside it.  The black box, the hard drive with Lucent's secret information, almost seemed to stare back at me.  I scowled at it, suddenly angry, as if it had a mind of its own and it was the one thing causing us all these problems.
    What if I destroyed it?  I didn't want to destroy it, though.  I wanted to see what was on it?  Right?
    Was that safe?
    Ancient mythology spoke of Pandora, the woman who opened a box containing death and decay, disease and famine, which she accidentally unleashed onto the world.  If she'd only had the ability to contain her curiosity, she could have stopped these horrible, tragic things from ever happening.
    She hadn't, though.  She'd opened the box and now we must all suffer for eternity.  Not all of us all at once, but some of us some of the time.  A few of us more than others.
    What I wanted to know was how someone could expect to keep all of life's tragedy in a box forever?  I didn't think Pandora was wrong for opening the box.  Everything inside of it would have leaked out eventually.  It would have happened.  It would have hurt.
    She knew, though.  Maybe she didn't know at first, but once she opened the box, she knew.  She understood it, she knew what she was facing, and she knew what to expect.
    Was it better to be oblivious and innocent, or should we accept and understand our fears so we could confront them?
    ***
    I wanted to face my fears, but it wasn't always that easy.  We couldn't always have what we wanted in life, even if it sounded simple.  Nothing was simple; everything was confusing.
    As soon as we walked out of Jessika's old apartment, as soon as we stepped across the doorstep, the threshold keeping us hidden inside and now revealing us to the outside world, it all started.
    My heart shook.  That was the only way I could think to explain the feeling inside me.  My body remained steady and my mind remained muted and forcefully blank, but my heart shook.  It was like that feeling when you're scared and your hand or your whole body is trembling, except it