“Have you talked to your dad since we arrived?”
“How could I?” Came Tav’s answer.
“You’re logged into the work server.”
Tav’s head whipped to the side, eyes narrowing. “Only enough to load the old messages, I can’t send.”
“Hm.” I moved around the island, putting distance between him and I.
“Hm,what? You don’t believe me?” He stood.
He put more pressure on his foot than when we’d hobbled up the stairs. I registered the butcher’s block on the counter, a high-end stainless knife set only inches away.
“What do you think I’m hiding?” He was limping around the island now, following the path I’d taken as he tracked my steps. “Maybe you’re the one with secrets. No cell messages driving you insane? Is there someone you’d rather be talking to?”
Maybe.
The words stung in my mind. We’d been locked up for less than a week and already I was growing cagey.
Or was he the cagey one?
I sucked in a breath of air and shook my head. “No.You?”
Who is V?
He arched one perfect eyebrow and then spun, limping across the kitchen and into the dining room. “I’m going crazy here.”
“It’s hard not to, maybe that’s the point of this place. I’ve never felt so watched and so alone at the same time.”
Tav replied with another caveman grunt.
He dug through one of the duffle bags in the corner, pulling out a small bottle of pills and shaking one into his palm before shoving the bottle into his pocket. He tossed the tiny pill into his mouth, then poured a crystal glass of vodka and took a shot to swallow it down. He filled his glass with another three fingers of the liquor and drank again.
“We have to get out of here.”
“Even if it kills us?” The words were out before I could stop them.
Tav’s eyes slashed across the room to meet mine. A chill rattled through me as his gaze lingered. “What am I supposed to say?”
I didn’t answer him.
“You all but accused me of bringing a gun up here.”
“I didn’t accuse you!”Had I?The memory of the words I’d used was murky.
“Bullshit,” he hissed, eyes cutting back to the vodka. He poured three more fingers of the clear liquid and then slumped into the kitchen chair. He pulled his bad leg up on the chair next to him.
Attempting to diffuse the situation, I grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and passed it to him. He took it, laying it across his ankle.
“Don’t ask me to ever go to the mountains again.” His words hung thick in the air, swirling around us and bubbling with tension.
“I didn’t ask.”
“Sure you did. Your birthday last year, you said you’d always wanted to see the mountains.”
“That’s why you did this?”
He huffed. Took another shot. Eyes glaring out the window.
