When Lock came back, he had a tray with a bowl of soup and a piece of bread.
He set it on the desk and stepped back giving me space, like he was handling something fragile.
“Eat,” he said. “Slow.”
I did.
The soup was hot and salty and exactly what I needed. I didn’t realize how empty I was until my hands stopped shaking around the spoon.
Lock stayed quiet while I ate. He didn’t hover but he didn’t leave either.
When I finished, I set the bowl down and wiped my mouth with the napkin.
“I didn’t run,” I said softly.
“I know.”
“I could’ve.”
“Yes.”
“But I didn’t.”
He met my eyes. Something unreadable flickered there…relief, maybe. Or something more dangerous.
“Yes,” he said. “Good.”
I swallowed.
Why did that make me feel good? I didn’t want to please him…. At least I shouldn’t… it scared me more than the kidnapping had.
“Get some rest,” he added. “Tomorrow’s going to be interesting.”
I lay back down, exhaustion settling into my bones now that my body had stopped fighting.
As my eyes drifted shut, one thought circled slow and steady in my head:
I was more confused than when I woke up with a hand over my mouth.
But for the first time since this started, my body wasn’t screaming to run.
And that felt like the beginning of something I wasn’t ready to name yet.
6
LOCK
I waiteduntil I heard his breathing even out again before I moved.
I could tell he was fighting sleep, until his shoulders loosened and that told me more than anything he’d said all morning.
I stood by the door for a second, listening to see if he would get up but there was nothing except the soft, steady sound of him breathing.
Fuck.
I closed the door behind me and leaned my forehead against it.
This was a mistake.
