He brought it over to me and set it on the cushion beside me. Then he picked his book up off the floor and sat at the opposite end of the couch.
I kept my eyes fixed on him the entire time I ate.
We sat like that for a long time, him reading and me watching him. My eyes drifted shut, and I rested my head against the back of the couch, facing him and sinking even deeper.
“We should get you to bed.”
I jolted awake when his deep voice broke through the hazy tendrils of sleep that had begun winding around me. He was still sitting at the other end of the couch, those dark eyes regarding me with something…
I didn’t know, but it was uncomfortable.
“Come on.” He stood up and moved toward the hall.
I got up and followed him. He walked to my room but didn’t go inside, just stood by the door. “Do you need anything?”
For the first time, I wondered where he was sleeping. I’d only seen one bedroom down here. There was a storage room, a bathroom, the main room with the couch, and then the rest of the place which I hadn’t seen yet.
I was sure the exit was past the room with the couch.
So where did he sleep? And had I been sleeping inhisbed this whole time? Why would he let me do that?
I didn’t respond to him, just hobbled into the room as quickly as I could and shut the door in his face.
His low, quiet chuckle carried down the hall as he walked away.
The next day,Cain told me I could come out to the living area if I wanted to.
I did, not knowing it was a trap.
“I need to change your bandage,” he said as soon as I sat down on the couch.
“No.” I was about to get up when something wet touched my hand.
The beast waslickingme.
Luna, he’d called it.
I jerked my hand away, wiping it down my shirt. Luna whined and sat down, staring up at me with big, sad eyes.
“And you’ve been wearing the same clothes for a week now. I have other ones. Clean ones. You can come look, pick something new out?”
I looked down at the shirt with the pineapple on it, pinching the material between my fingers. I’d gotten used to wearing it, to the softness of the cloth, the brightness of the colors. He’d explained what a pineapple was the other day, and I liked looking at it.
I didn’t want to change. I didn’t want him to take it away from me.
I raised my eyes to his. “No.”
He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. It looked so soft. I thought it might feel like the velvety couch if I touched it.
I slid my fingers into my own hair and they got caught in the coarse, tangled mess.
“Fine, but I really need to change your bandage. Okay?”
Cain held something white in his left hand, a small box of some kind.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” His deep voice was soft and low, sweet and soothing, and I found myself staring into his eyes as he spoke, unable to look away. “We can’t leave the same bandage on for too long, and I need to make sure the wound isn’t infected. That it’s healing properly. Okay? I won’t touch you any more than I have to. And I’ll give you tons of apples after we’re done. As many as you want. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
I didn’t know what a promise was, but I did know enough about infected wounds that I didn’t want that to happen to me. That would be a horrible way to die.
