Then I slowly stood, brushing pine needles from her shoulder, and scooped her into my arms. She didn’t fight me this time, but she protested: “I can walk. I’m fine.”
“I’m not putting your feet on the ground again. Got my steps in for the day. You’re a serious pain in the ass, you know that?” I huffed, carrying her up the embankment slowly as I struggled for footing on the steep and rough terrain.
Her arms slid around my neck tentatively, full of uncertainty. She was still trembling.
I carried her back to the car in silence.
Chapter eleven
Eden
“Haven or Hostage”
Whenwereachedtown,he made me put a bag over my head.Who has a bag hanging out in their car?Serial killers. Kidnappers. I could tell we were in a parking garage from the way the exhaust echoed around us, and the rhythmic thumping of speed bumps under us, before the car came to a stop. He got me out of the car and guided me by hand into an elevator, and we went up… and up… and up…
I didn’t know where we were until he unlocked a door down a short hall. He pulled the bag off as we went inside, and I realized this must be his apartment. The place was nothing like I expected – not that I had reason to expect anything at all… but still.
It was clean, almosttooclean. Sparsely decorated. Cold, both in temperature and aesthetic.
A long wooden table against the kitchen wall was more of a workspace than a place to eat. No pictures. No personality. Just a gun safe and a stack of papers.
He kicked the door shut behind us and locked it with three separate latches. Deadbolt. Chain. Sliding bar. My body jolted aseach sound echoed behind me. He didn’t speak, just guided me into the kitchen.
“We need to clean that.” He nodded toward my scraped leg and turned away to the cabinets. Now I was certain I recognized his voice. It was more than I’d ever heard him say, but it was definitely the weird guy from the cafe.
“Where are we?” My voice felt small in the room, but I was satisfied that I didn’t sound scared anymore.
“My place.”
He came over, lifting me up without asking permission. He set me on the edge of the table, and I squeaked in surprise. He scooted a chair in front of me and moved a lamp to the edge next to me.
“Yeah, well that tells me nothing.”
“That’s the idea.”
Up town. He said he lived up town. He left me for a moment, disappearing down the hallway. I could hear him moving things around, and when he returned, he held a first aid kit containing clean towels, antiseptic, and gauze. He sat down in front of me and pulled the lamp closer.
I put my hands out, pulling my knees together as he settled between them in his chair. “Don’t touch me.”
He looked up at me with the same cold and calculating look he'd been giving me the entire time I’d known him.
“I’m trying to help,”
“Yeah? You’re doing a shitty job convincing me.”
He sighed, the kind of sound that came from a deep, tired place. “You jumped out of a moving car, Eden. You could’ve broken your neck.”
My jaw dropped at the audacity of him blaming me for this. “Youkidnappedme.”
“I was trying to keep you safe.”
His voice soothed something in me, something small and scared that had been clawing at my throat since the alleyway.
This time, I didn’t stop him when he reached for my leg. His touch was surprisingly gentle: hands steady, movements practiced like muscle memory. He acted like he’d done this before, maybe hundreds of times.
“Take off the mask.”
“No.”
