‘I know. A week’s holiday used up for a bloody wedding. It’s ridiculous, right? But it’s not your usualceremony and dinner affair at a local hotel… It’s society. There are days of cocktails and games and dreary fucking conversations. And I need you to act like you don’t hate me. Like we are a couple.’
Another twitch.
‘Yes. Well. I’ll fill you in on the drive. It’s eleven hours, and that’s without any stops. Plenty of time to explain.’
Standing, I brush my hands over my thighs and look down at Roman, who lies there immobile. His seething rage is written on his face, even though he’s unable to move. ‘You just chill out, and I’ll be back in a few.
TEN
ROMAN
What the hellis she doing?
This whole time, I’ve believed Maggie is just my slightly awkward, nerdy neighbour, but it turns out she is a full-blown maniac.
I try once more to move, sweat forming on the back of my neck with the effort. Nothing happens. At a push, I can move my eyes, but that’s it. My limbs lay useless against the floor, like lumps of meat. I can’t defend myself, and the vulnerability of that has my stomach knotting.
Maggie blabbered about a wedding, but this is extreme for going to a fucking wedding. No, this is Misery level wild, and images of her tying me up somewhere remote, and keeping me, run through my head. Is this the end? Is she a serial killer preying on next-door neighbours?
The ability to turn my head is gone, and I can’tdefend myself, but I can occasionally see her from the edge of my vision. Despite never having been in my home, she knows where everything is with a comfort level that increases my panic.
‘Almost done,’ she says, her voice sounding far calmer than it had before. Chilling. How could she be so cool when she’s attacked me? ‘I wish you could talk to me. You’ll be able to when I get you in the car and switch to the other sedative. That one at least gives you use of your head.’
You crazy bitch.
Yelling at her inside my own head is, of course, fruitless.
She breezes through to my room and back, adding my toothbrush and toothpaste to the bag, before holding two aftershaves, going from one to the other.
‘Which do you prefer?’ she asks, before giggling. ‘You can’t say, can you?’
Crossing the room, she kneels beside me, all wild frizzing hair and freckles. Using all my might, I try to lash out at her. To convince my body to cooperate. It doesn’t.
Leaning down, she places her face close to my throat and… sniffs. Rage fills me with a hot flush. I hate being immobile. Useless.
She then smells both of the aftershaves before grinning. ‘The blue one. Perfect.’
I narrow my eyes as best I can, trying my hardest to be the most intimidating I can. Maggie watches me before lifting a hand and resting it against my jaw. Myskin burns beneath her touch, and I want to rip her hand away, but can’t.
‘I promise I’ll bring you back in one piece, Roman. You only need to behave. It’ll be ten days, and then you’ll be home, and I can disappear from your life. You can go back to fucking strangers and lying about it online, and I’ll go back to doing anything other than becoming the person my family demands. It’s not much to ask. Not really. Ineedthis.’
My mouth dries out as I realise she knows exactly who I am. Exactly which lies my life is built on. Despite my anger, a wave of shame washes over me.
‘Sorry, Roman. It has to be this way. The less you fight it, the easier it’ll be on both of us.’
Removing her hand, she stands and picks up my bag.
‘I’ll be back in a minute, need to go put this in my car.’
The moment the door closes behind her, I try once more to move. If only I can get something to defend myself… or roll in front of the door to block her access. But my body declines to cooperate. It’s like someone has severed the connections from my brain to my limbs. Like I’m a marionette with cut strings. Limp. Useless.
Then she’s back.
Leaning over me, she pats down my pockets, finding my phone and turning it to my face to activate the Face ID. She spends a few minutes typing before placing the phone on the counter, plugging it into the charging cable.
‘We don’t want anyone tracing your whereabouts tomy family home. That wouldn’t end well for anyone. I’ve cleared your schedule and told everyone you are taking a few days off. I’ll still have access to your emails—so don’t fret, I can sort out anything that comes up until we get you home.’
Crossing the room, she closes the window, goes around the room and switches off the sockets here and there. Leaving the trusty fridge and the phone on. She leaves my keys on the counter, flashing me one on her keychain. ‘I’ll leave those here in case we lose them. I’ll let you back in with mine when we get back.’
