The feeling quickly disappears when I spot Ross running in our direction, stopping in front of us. “A vanload of kids from a special needs school has pulled into the driveway,” he says, between breaths. “Their riding therapy session was booked a month ago and I forgot all about it.” His tone is apologetic. “Mel’s with them now.”
Kane’s hand closes in a strong grip around my elbow. The affable companion of the past ten minutes is gone. In his place stands the hard-faced kidnapper I loathe.
“Stay with Mel,” he instructs Ross in a clipped tone. “Stall them as long as you can while I get Amy inside.”
Ross nods. Throwing me a sympathetic glance, he takes off to join Mel out front.
And just like that, the interlude is over.
47
AMY
––––––––
Kane doesn’t say a word as he steers me into the house through the back door, Saba following us. I don’t say anything either. What is there to say? Did I really hope my situation had changed?
Nolene, still in her running outfit but now with a Zorro mask on, is waiting inside my room. I catch sight of the syringe she’s holding and dread knots my insides at the thought of being drugged and helpless again.
After ordering Saba to sit outside, Kane closes the door.
Nolene holds out the syringe. “We better hurry.”
After the briefest hesitation, Kane takes the syringe.
I stand my ground as I watch him approach, my heart beating furiously. Kane’s hesitation before taking the syringe has given me hope. “Please don’t inject me,” I plead. “I promise I won’t make any noise.”
“Shut up,” Nolene snaps.
“All the facilities the kids need are outside,” Kane says to Nolene. “The house is a private residence. There’s no reason for them to be inside.”
“There are at least two teachers in this group,” Nolene points out. “She’ll scream and one of them will hear. It’ll be all over for us.”
Kane is quiet, his gaze on me. Finally, he says to Nolene, “You can leave.”
Her lips part in astonishment. “What?”
“I’m not sedating her. I’ll stay here to ensure she remains quiet.”
“What are you doing? She’s already tried to escape! She can’t be trusted.”
“I’m not drugging her,” he repeats, signaling the end of the discussion.
Throwing a hate-filled glare my way, Nolene storms out, a hard, hurt set to her shoulders.
My sense of relief is almost painful. “Thank you,” I say to Kane.
He brushes off my gratitude, his eyes like fragments of ice. “The next time this happens we might not get you to your room in time. I can’t risk anyone recognizing you.” He grasps my upper arm. “Come with me.” He leads me toward the bathroom where I had my shower, closing and locking the door behind him.
I stand in the middle of the bathroom, hugging my arms to my body. “Okay, I’m really scared here.”
He looks startled. His hand lifts, as though to reach for me, but he quickly drops it. “There’s no need to be scared. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m only going to cut and dye your hair.”
“What!” A wave of outrage washes over me. Never mind I was imagining all manner of awful scenarios involving cages, needles, and ropes. He’s going to cut my hair? No way. I love my hair. It holds a particular, glorious vanity for me. Shaking my head, I back up a step. “No way you’re touching my hair.”
