Ducking back into the bathroom, I grab a towel, winding it around my hair until it’s hidden, then sprinting back to the front door, arriving just as he knocks. My neck prickles and I turn to see Malakai peeking warily from the kitchen. I wave him back, then turn to the door.
My heart dances in my chest, going off beat then catching up with an audible thump. When I reach for the doorhandle, my palm is slick, slipping on the shiny brass before I get a firm grip and throw it open.
“Hello! Are you the owners?”
The man takes a step back, surprise on his face. Did he not expect to see someone here? I wish I’d grilled Malakai about what this place was, who it belonged to, what it was for.
Like he would have answered.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the man says, regrouping quickly and returning to the top step, peering over my shoulder. “This place should be empty, but a neighbour said he saw people pass by.”
“Where else am I meant to be?” I ask, layering confusion into my voice. “You don’t expect me to sleep in the barn, do you?” I chuckle, leaning against the doorframe like he’s the one in the wrong for turning up unannounced. “Not for two hundred a night.”
“Two hun—” He breaks off, twisting to look at his companion in the car. “Who’s charging you two hundred?”
“You, presumably. I booked this place two days ago through Airbnb.” I alter my expression to faux concern. “You haven’t been double-booked, have you? I swear. Every time I tell myself next time, I’ll just go to a hotel and then I see some out of way little cottage or farmhouse and I just can’t help myself.”
I stand back from the door a little. “Look, I don’t have my phone with me. It’s a digital detox weekend but you do, I presume. We can make a call and sort this out. I’d be happy to co-share for the next week if they knock the price down by half.”
“We’re not—” He runs a hand through his hair, glancing over his shoulder again but the woman in the car is staring in the other direction, no help at all. “There’s a police alert out for the area. A woman’s been…”
He trails off, his face reflecting renewed concern. “Are you being held hostage?” he whispers. “Do you need help?”
“You’re talking about the escaped prisoner thingy, are you?” When he nods, I narrow my eyes. “That’s a woman in her mid-forties, buddy. I’m thirty-two.” I sling a hand on my hip, raising my voice in pure outrage. “Do you really think I lookforty-five?”
“Oh.” His eyes widen as much as mine narrowed. “No! I mean…” Still no help from the car and I can see the regret for his life choices flashing across his face. “Obviously, not.” He walks down a step. “You…” He shrugs. “This place shouldn’t be listed on any websites, it’s not for rent.”
“A bit late for that. I’ve already paid in advance for the week. If you want to chuck me out, then my lawyer will be very interested in the reasons why.”
“Oh,” he says again, moving down another step. The worse this conversation becomes for him, the more I enjoy myself. “There’s no need for that. No need at all. I’ll just…” He turns and rushes back to the car, fast as a jackrabbit.
I keep the door open, staring accusingly at him until he performs a three-point turn and heads away. The car approached from the opposite direction to the one we arrived from, and I stare after it for a while, tracing the journey we’re about to make.
Malakai walks from the kitchen to stand beside me, his face twisting with a myriad of expressions, each so fleeting they’re hard to read. He reaches out his hand, touching his fingers gently to the side of my face, his eyes searching mine before dropping to the floor.
“Thank you,” he whispers, then shakes his head, moving back a step, looking lost. “I…” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing outside again. “I guess that’s the signal to get going.”
We transport everything to the vehicle in two trips. Malakai restores the key to its hiding place while I think about the couple who are now long gone.
I’m meant to be a hostage, taking every opportunity to get free. That was the perfect escape but instead of throwing myself at the visitors in relief, I covered for my abductor.
If asked, I could always mention the gun or Joshua’s life, but the reality is far more troubling. It hadn’t occurred to me I could be rescued. All I’d thought was they meant trouble for Malakai, so I had to drive them away.
The same way I’d do for a friend or a loved one.
I’ve chewed my cheek to shreds by the time the farmhouse is out of sight.
* * *
Despite having livedin Canterbury my entire life, I haven’t seen any of the roads Malakai drives us along for the next few hours. There’s two-lane blacktop, two-lane clay, faint tyre tracks that are more wishful thinking than an actual path, and so off-road there’s no track at all.
The Jeep is a sturdy vehicle with a lot of grunt under the hood, but it still struggles on some of the not-really-roads he steers us along.
“Where are we going?” I finally ask, my hand aching from holding onto the roof strap. “And, more to the point, can we not drive there on asphalt?”
“Don’t you have a sense of adventure?”
“Damn. Must’ve left it back at the farmhouse. Now all I want is a cup of tea and a lie down.”
