I didn’t want words I couldn’t read. I didn’t want his company or his questions. I wanted apples, water, and to get the fuck out of here.
I raised my eyes to his and said, “Apples.”
The slow smile that stretched across his face made my heart pound. Little crinkly lines appeared at the corners of his eyes, and he had two deep grooves on either side of his mouth that only appeared when he smiled. They were…nice.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Apples.”
He picked up the empty plate and left the room.
I’d leave after I got some more apples.
Chapter 6
Three
Ihadn’t left yet.
It had been days, I was sure. Days and days and days had passed. Maybe weeks. Even months.
I wasn’t sure how many days or weeks, and I didn’t want to ask the giant. I was waiting for an opportunity to leave, to go hunting for the exit, but he was always around. He never fucking left.
He kept asking questions, too. Questions about my life, about the hounds, about why why why whywhywas I like this, why was I wearing this, why did I have a number for a name?
I hated his questions. Hated that he wanted to know these things, that he expected me to speak, to tell him, to engage with him.
But I had questions, too. Where were we? What was that creature that I hadn’t seen again since that first day? I heard it sometimes. It had a loud call, but it never came into this room.
Where had he gotten all these things? I’d never seen such a nice place or so much stuff. What else did he have in here? How big was this place?
When I needed to relieve myself, he took me to the bathroom. He tried to help me walk there, and I’d growled athim and tried to scratch him. He’d jumped away from me with a laugh and said, “Okay, got it. No touching.”
He hadn’t tried to touch me again and brought me a long, sturdy stick to help me walk.
The bathroom was right across from this room, so I didn’t get a chance to see the rest of the place. I didn’t understand the “toilet” or how to use it, and he explained to me that it was a composting toilet, whatever that meant. I wanted to ask him, but I didn’t.
I didn’t ask him any of the questions swirling in my mind, and I didn’t answer his.
I sighed and stared up at the ceiling. I was sick of looking at books I couldn’t read. It was frustrating to have all these words in front of me and not be able to understand a single one of them.
And he just kept pulling more off the shelves and setting them on the table by the bed because he thought I was actually reading them.
I couldn’t take another second in this bed. Where was he? He’d come in this morning to give me some food, but left quickly and hadn’t been back since. That was a while ago, and I was hungry and bored and agitated.
I was tired of lying here, unable to walk. My body was achy and stiff, and I wanted to get up and move, to see something other than the bed, the table, the bookshelf.
Had he left? Had he gone out somewhere? Was this my chance to escape?
I grabbed the stick he’d given me and hobbled to the door.
It was unlocked.
My heart began to race as I quietly made my way down the hall.
It wasn’t really a hall, or at least a very short one. It came out to the large room where I’d been chained to the pillar.
Cain was there—and so was the beast that had jumped on me that first day.
They were sitting on the couch, and the creature had its gigantic head in his lap as he idly pet it. His fingers rubbed at its ear, then moved slowly over its head to the other ear, then back again. His attention was focused on a book he held, and his lips moved, like he was mouthing the words he was reading.
