He’s abducted me, and he won’t even come see me.
I’m well aware of the absurdity. My mind has recovered enough to realize that I should be dreading my captor’s presence, not hungering for it. But my body still shakes with need.
I turn my attention to Everest. He’s looking at me as though he can’t decide whether what he’s seeing is hilarious or deeply pitiful.
Then, without even addressing me, he dials a number on his cell phone and brings it to his ear.
“She literally slept on the carpet,” he says into his cell, as though I’m not right in front of him.
But that’s par for the course. Invisibility, and all that.
When he next speaks, his voice has grown harsher, and I shrink back.
“Guess you didn’t bother telling her about the rest of the apartment, Damien? Just left her here, after locking her in the cell for days? Didn’t you see her lying on the ground? What the fuck?”
A voice sounds angrily in his ear, though I can’t make out the words.
“Okay, okay. Sorry. You know I don’t like this. Okay, sorry, boss.”
Everest hangs up, and when he faces me again, I don’t see any trace of humor in his light blue eyes.
He draws near, and I cringe back, even though he doesn’t look like he could hurt a fly. I really hate what the cell has done to me. Turned me into some pathetic, quaking creature. I never thought I would fall apart so easily.
“Come on,” he says, touching my shoulder.
Swallowing my nerves, I follow him to the opposite side of the room, toward a door. I hope he’s not planning to take me back to the cell, but I don’t think this door is the one I came through yesterday.
I scan the room and notice there are several other doors. I never even saw them last night. If I had, I probably wouldn’t have attempted to open them, anyway. I would have assumed they were locked. Or maybe a trick, to see if I could be trusted out of the cell. I don’t want to go back there.
As we near the door, Damien’s words come back to me painfully.You’re going to stay here for a little while.
Why is Everest bringing me to this door? Doesn’t he know I’m not supposed to go out? Is he trying to get me in trouble? Give the others a reason to kill me?
I guess I’ve recovered my voice this morning, because I manage to stammer, “I’m not allowed.”
“Sure, you are,” smiles Everest.
“I mean… Damien… Mr. Wells…” I blush. “He said I had to stay here for a while.”
“You can call us by our first names,” says Everest quietly. “Most people do. And he meant in this apartment. Not this room.”
With that, he opens the door, and guides me into a large room with a queen-sized bed and windows looking out on Astley. There are two chairs separated by a small table on which an old-fashioned telephone with a cord is set.
Whoever’s apartment this is must spend a lot of time sitting down, I think to myself.
“That’s your bedroom,” he says. “I think it will be more comfortable than a rug.”
My bedroom?
He must notice the absolute disbelief on my face because he turns away, a slightly pained look in his eyes, before guiding me to the next room.
It’s a large space lined with metal rods.
“The closet,” he says. “It’s pretty empty though.”
He looks me up and down. The dress I’m wearing probably doesn’t bear much resemblance to the garment I received in the cell. Now it’s wrinkled, stained, and smells of humidity.
“We’ll get you a few things just to tide you over. Maybe I canconvince the boys to let me take you shopping.”
