“No. You’ll pace, and grunt, and glare holes through me. I’ll trip over my words or say something I shouldn’t. It’ll work better if you’re outside.”
“Outside.” He spits the word out. “Pounding on the door.”
“Yes. Anton needs to hear someone trying to get in. It creates urgency, sells my story that I stole the phone I’m calling on. You know all this. It’s part of the planyouagreed to.” I risk glancing at his reflection.
His jaw’s locked, shoulders tight, hands flexing at his sides. Carter’s no longer there, but sitting on the bed now.
“Koby.” I turn, leaning against the counter. “I’m not asking you to like it. I’m asking you to trust me. It’s just two minutes, and you’ll be right outside.”
His throat works, but no words come. He just stares at me, probably talking himself out of pushing harder in case he provokes an argument.
A knock on the bedroom door snaps him back to reality, but he doesn’t move, letting Carter deal with it.
“Octavius’s plane just took off,” Blaze’s voice breaches the room. “You can begin.”
Koby stiffens, pulling the phone out of his pocket. He taps the screen, and a dial tone fills the space between us.
“Are we on?” Ryder answers.
“Yes. Get to work. Let me know when it’s done.”
“Alright, hold the line.”
Fast, rhythmical tapping pours from the speaker and my stomach hollows out as I grab the burner phone. Seconds stretch, each lasting longer than the last, my heart picking up pace.
“Done. You’re good,” Ryder confirms. “Keep us in the loop.”
Koby cuts the call without another word and grabs my hand, pulling me into his arms. “You’ve got this,” he whispers, kissing the side of my head. “I’ll be right outside.”
He muttersfuckone last time, lets me go, and rushes out of the bathroom before he changes his mind.
I close the door behind him, turning the lock.
For a moment, I stand by the tub, staring at my reflection. The girl in the mirror isn’t me. She’s Anton’s little toy, her ribbon tied just so, lips glossy, eyes wide.
I drag a shaky breath through my nose, glancing around to find the best place to call from. Closing my eyes I recall how I felt when Anton locked me in the closet. How the darkness panicked me as the walls shrank closer, and closer.
My pulse quickens. I move on autopilot, curling myself under the sink, and close my eyes, inhaling the faint scent of minty toothpaste in shallow, small breaths.
I cover my head with one arm, pressing my back further into the wall. Pulling my knees close to my chest, I fold into the same position I cried in for hours inside the dark closet.
Behind the closed door, I hear a muffled thud, then Carter telling Koby to give me space.
Their voices fade in and out, muffled by the memories I’m pulling forth. I picture Anton’s hands. The way he pinched my chin when he wanted me to look at him. The way he combed his calloused fingers through my hair. The way he fed me, bathed me, erased me little by little.
I recall the sound of my father’s screams.Myscreams. Soft lullabies and the closet door shutting with an ominous thunk. The smell of antiseptic. Oranges. Baby powder and blood.
My throat tightens. I squeeze my eyes until white spots appear. Until I summon tears.
The next flashes of my confinement come back faster, as if I broke a dam and nothing can stop the flood. My pulse skitters, my ears ring, and I’m trembling, balancing somewhere between here and there, now and then.
My throat is raw, the panic so close I can taste it.
I tap the quick dial button.
36
Koby
