“You’ve been good,” he said slowly. “If you do well with exercise and leash training, I’ll take you to your upstairs kennel.”
I froze at that. The idea of going upstairs into his house was heavenly, even beyond the opportunities I’d probably have to escape. It had to be worlds more comfortable up there, and I wouldn’t always feel so fucking alone like I did down here. I was going to start talking to myself at any minute because it wasn’t like I was spoiled for choices with company.
I went — crawled — to the door of the cell, which he opened. I stayed still as he put the knee pads on and adjusted them until they fit right. Hopefully they wouldn’t chafe, because that would spoil the entire purpose for them — to make this more comfortable. I was starting to feel like I was gearing up for sports, though.
He attached the leash to the harness again, and this time I followed him out and onto the mat. He led me around, just as he had last time, and I kept up. He didn’t exhaust me this time, instead letting me stop when I started to breathe heavily from the exertion.
“Am I going to regret bringing you upstairs?” he asked me.
Probably.
“No,” I said.
He eyed me, sighing. “You won’t be able to get out. You can’t open the windows or doors. I have the place locked down. You can’t access the internet, and I don’t have a home phone. My cell phone has a passcode. Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to bring you into my house without having contingency plans?”
Well… Yes, but that was only because I hadn’t actually thought about it. I’d imagined a regular home — bigger than usual, maybe, and fancier, but just a regular home. I hadn’t imagined some smart home where he controlled everything.
Maybe he was a tiny bit of a control freak, too.
“Okay, okay,” I said. He was entirely too good at this sort of shit to be a first timer. “Do you make a lot of lists?”
He blinked at me. “Yes?” he asked rather than said.
“Explains a lot,” I said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied.
It made perfect sense to me. That was how he seemed to have everything together. If he made lists, he could constantly add to them and make sure he didn’t forget anything. Either that, or he just really had a good memory, but I was pretty sure he had a list habit to go along with his other obsessive habits.
“Come,” he told me, leading me to the stairs.
My heart fluttered in my chest, the butterflies drifting down to my stomach and leaving me feeling a little nauseated. What was going to happen when I got into his house? He was all prepared, and that meant he probably had enough shit to keep me contained.
I had expected something dark and dirty, and it took me a moment to adjust to the sheer amount of light pouringinto the windows. I saw a few things covered in black cloth, almost like we were at a funeral, but for the most part…
“Are you really going to leave me up here?” I asked skeptically. If this was a joke, I was so not going to be amused.
He nodded. “As long as you don’t try anything stupid. I have a kennel set up for you in my bedroom.”
Of course he did.
“I’ll give you a quick tour,” he said abruptly, leading me off to the right. He showed me the guest room, the kitchen, and even a bathroom before leading me down a hallway. We passed several doors he didn’t open until we finally got to the fancy one at the end.
That one, he opened, and this was more of what I’d expected from him: dark, with blackout curtains drawn and blocking out the light. There was a large bed, a dresser, a desk, a TV on a stand, a bookshelf… and a large dog kennel.
I groaned, but he ignored me as he led me over to it.
“What am I supposed to do if I have to piss now?” I demanded. The drain wasn’t ideal, but at least I got to go when I needed to. So help me if he started talking about a catheter or some shit. I would lose my fucking mind.
He pointed out a bottle. “Portable urinal. Use that when you have to go. I’ll empty it every night.”
Great. I was going to get to share my living space with my piss.
At least the bed in it looked comfortable, with plush blankets and even a pillow. I eyed him skeptically.
“Yeah, that’s yours…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “I keep trying to tell you. I don’t want you to be miserable here. I want you to be as happy as you can be.”
I was glad he didn’t sayhappybecause I’d have had toscoff at that. There was no way I could be happy in a place like this. Comfortable, maybe, but not happy.
