That night, she made dinner and I poured us both glasses of wine. She smiled brightly and drank, and we talked the way I imagine normal people talk. She asked to go upstairs and read, and I let her go without following her. The kitchen seemed so empty without her there.
Afterward, I went for a walk. Outside, the stars shone. I liked it out here, far away from the city. The bright pinpricks of light were brighter, here. They drove away the shadow.
She had driven away the shadow, too, though. On our walk, I’d seen the world through her eyes, and the shadow hadn’t come back, not even afterward, not until later when I’d left her alone.
No. I couldn’t become dependent on her for that. I had never been dependent on anyone.
But she is yours, my mind said. To do with as you want.
The reminder only made the hurt worse. I did not want to force her to love me. Even this deception… it made my stomach twist in a strange way. Whenever people talked about feeling guilty, this was what I imagined they felt. The twisting inside, the tightness in the chest. I had never felt it before, and I did not want to feel it now.
The shadow fluttered at the edges of my mind, but she was more of a distraction to me now.
I went back inside. She was asleep, a book fallen half-finished by her side. I replaced the bookmark and lay down next to her sleeping body. I would not wake her up to tie her wrists to the bedposts. Not tonight. She looked so peaceful.
Maybe in the morning, before I left to go make my visit.
I put an arm around her protectively. To protect her, or to protect me? I did not know the answer to that question anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Kat
Gav was right about one thing - his wine selection was incredible. The Syrah he’d picked out for dinner had paired perfectly with the steak, and I’d drunk two full glasses before I realized it. He only smiled and flooded my glass again, and the smile made my heart skip a beat.
I was sure that he wanted to get me drunk to do… whatever it was he wanted to do to me. But when I’d asked, he let me go back upstairs to read and left me alone for hours. Strange. He was so strange. And the wine had made me so sleepy. I passed out before he came upstairs.
When I woke up the next morning, he was nowhere to be seen. The room was dim; facing west, the sun’s light wouldn’t come in until the afternoon. Only a thin gray light illuminated the walls. And my hands were tied up to the bedposts with the same red rope as before. My ankles were free, though.
My pulse pounded. What had he done to me?
Looking down frantically, I saw that I was dressed the same way I had been last night. My underwear was still on, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t touched me at all.
Why?
Although it should have made me feel better, this realization actually shot panic through my system. It was strange that he had gotten me drunk and then tied me up and then done… nothing. I didn’t know if I’d wanted him to or not. But that he hadn’t bothered to wake me up disturbed me for a reason I couldn’t put my finger on.
“Gav?”
I waited to make sure he wasn’t just in the bathroom, but there was no response.
The bathroom. I had to go to the bathroom. As soon as I realized it, the urge to pee hit me even harder. I’d drunk way too much wine last night, and if he wasn’t around to let me out, I was going to pee the bed.
I yelled a bit louder, to carry my voice downstairs. Surely he wouldn’t have left me tied up without letting me go to the bathroom.
“Gav!”
Nothing.
I twisted my body, curling my body close together. My feet could reach the knots if I stretched, I bet. I could even escape, if he was gone. Maybe he was gone. But where would he—
Oh, shit.
My mind focused in an instant. Yesterday, the only thing stopping him from killing that man had been the trade. But today—
No, he wouldn’t.
Of course he would. He was a killer.
“GAV!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, and my dry throat ached with the strain of the shouting. I didn’t care. “GAV!”
I had to get out. Sure, I had to get to the bathroom, but more than that, I had to stop him from killing another person. If he was gone, he would be driving over to wherever he’d said he’d found the next victim. As I thought about it, I realized that I wasn’t scared for his next victim. I was scared for him.
Where had he gone? I racked my brain even as I twisted my body up, trying to get my feet to reach the knot. He’d said a hundred miles away. That means I had time, if he had left not too long ago. But how could I know?
My toes touched the rope, and I curled them around the top of the knot, trying to get a grip. My neck was bent at a weird angle, and I had to pee, oh god, I had to pee so bad.