TICK TOCK
MOLLY
The hours blur together.
Somewhere in the back of the house, Scout yowls. Carlin locked her in the bathroom when she wouldn't stop hissing at him. At least she's safe there.
I have asked him every question I can think of to keep him talking. Pretended I was hungry so he'd feed me. He cleaned the kitchen, and I asked him to do a few things around the house, like feed Scout. Tidy up. Brought me the books, showed them to me, so happy to connect with me that for a while, he didn't even check his phone. Through it all, he relayed his entire version of what happened, every little moment he "knew", every little signal I gave him that I never made, interpreting every interaction as proof. And I have nodded. Listened. Never contradicted, but never agreeing either
But as time has worn on, with every check on Grey's location, he's grown more and more agitated. And I don't know what else to do.
My voice is hoarse and dry, hands sticky with blood from my restraints.
I'm out of time.
Carlin checks his phone again as he paces across my kitchen, raking a hand through his hair.
"Carlin, my wrists hurt," I croak. "Could you loosen these?" I shift to show him.
He pauses, his eyes flickering with concern when he sees them. But then he begins to pace again. "Not yet." I track him across the kitchen, back again. "I don't understand," he says half to himself. "You should know now. I've explained everything."
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be difficult. I'm just scared. Confused."
His face is tight with worry when he meets my gaze, breaks his pacing to stride to me, dropping to his knees.
"Molly, tell me you love me so we can go. That's all I need to know--that you love me. Say the words, and this can all be over."
The temptation is so strong, I almost do it in the hopes I can escape him somehow between giving him what he wants and whatever method of transport he has planned. But I have to try and keep him here. Grey has to be close. He has to be.
I can't even think about what will happen when he gets here. I just hope he makes it in time.
I've waited too long to answer Carlin.
Instantly he's furious. "I have doneeverythingright. Why don't youseeit? We're out of time." He shows me his phone, and my heart skips when I see Grey's truck so close, only a couple miles outside of Roseville. But Carlin is going to take me before then, I know it. Or worse. "See?" he says again, his eyes wild. "I always know where you are. I've done all this to keep you safe, but you haven't even thanked me. I come here and take care of things, make your life easier. I've been here dozens of times,while you were sleeping, while you at work. Not once have you noticed. Not once have you even cared."
While I sleep.My skin crawls, every hair standing on end. I think of all the nights I felt watched, the doors I swore I locked, the things moved and tidied. It was him. The words leave me feeling violated, terrified.
"I have to take care of you." He reaches for my face, and I pray to god he's not going to kiss me.
"Carlin, I can take care of myself," I say gently.
"But you can't!" he spits, standing to loom over me. "What about coach? He almost killed Wade, and he'd do worse. But so can I. I'd do anything for you. Why don't you understand?" He studies my face, and something in him shifts. "You're never going to see it, are you?" The words are quiet, sad. "I thought…I really thought…"
"Carlin--"
The rise of his anger leaves me whiplashed. "Fine.Fine!Plan B it is."
He pulls a knife from his pocket.
"Please, think about this--"
"I have. I've thought about it a long time. It's time to go."
"Go where? You have a life here--"
A bitter laugh. "A life? Living with my fucking mom? No job, no prospects--youwere supposed to be my life."
Through the back door window, I catch movement. My heart leaps.
