The queen-size bed had a purple and beige comforter and more pillows than she had in her whole apartment. Maybe the best feature was the lounge chair and small table in the corner. If she’d had books, she could picture herself reading for hours.
Stop it. They’re letting you go. After they question you.
“We hung up the clothes. The tags are still on them, so if they don’t fit, we can return them.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Go shower and relax. We’ll talk when you get out.”
Her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t eaten all day. “Sorry.”
“Dinner will be ready when you’re finished.”
Clay turned and left. She glanced to the ceiling and placed her palms together. In a very soft voice, she thanked God for picking these two to save her. She dashed to the closet, hoping they didn’t buy her tacky tops and too-tight skirts like Hood had.
She pulled out the clothes one after another. Happiness streaked through her. They’d purchased a few pairs of yoga pants, something she loved to wear, athletic shirts, and several ankle-length stretchy skirts. These men were amazing.
She grabbed a pair of pants and a modest top then stepped to the chest of drawers, hoping to find underwear. Yes! Her cheeks heated as she pictured them buying the lingerie. Maybe a female operative had handled that chore. She pulled out hip-hugging panties and a bra her exact size. Wow.
Shower time!
She rushed into the bathroom and once more stopped. A large walk-in shower took up the back wall, and the jetted tub in the middle of the room was something she dreamed of owning one day. On the countertop sat some grocery store brand blush and lipstick, along with a toothbrush, toothpaste and a new razor. Who were these guys and what did they really want?
Enjoy it.
God sure did work in mysterious ways. She turned on the shower and locked the door before she undressed. Although she’d never wear this tawdry outfit again, perhaps someone more needy could use it. Her thoughts raced to Barbie. Poor girl. Elena had no idea if either of her cage-mates was sold, and if they had been, she hoped they were as lucky as her.
The shampoo and conditioner on the shower shelf were a brand she’d only seen in upscale department stores, and the bar soap smelled of mint and lemons. Yum.
As soon as she stepped into the shower and the warm water blasted her face, her body relaxed. Don’t get used to this. Why not? The men seemed to want her to feel at home. After two weeks of imprisonment, right now that was exactly what she was going to do.
She scrubbed her face, and as she rubbed the bar of soap over her body, lurid thoughts skated through her mind. Were the men in the living room talking about how they’d like to touch her or were they making plans to send her on her way?
Dirk, while quiet, had brushed against her a few times, almost as if he wanted to test whether she’d be receptive to him. She was attracted to both men, and that wouldn’t do. It didn’t matter. In a few days, she wouldn’t see them again.
Her body sagged. What’s wrong with you? Those days of confinement must have messed with her morals. Or maybe being in a cage and threatened made her realize that life could be cut short at any time. Enjoying the moment needed to be her new philosophy.
After washing her hair and body, she turned off the water and towel dried. She drew on her new outfit and checked herself out in the mirror. Except for hair that curled every which way, she looked like herself and not some floozy. She opened the door to the bedroom, and the rich aroma of tomato sauce permeated her room. Her mouth watered.
Shoes? She checked the closet but found none. Well, they couldn’t think of everything. She didn’t relish walking around in four-inch heels. What the heck. Going barefoot never hurt anyone.
Elena headed down the hall. She heard her name and slowed. When she couldn’t make out what they said, she entered the living room. Dirk was stirring something on the stove, and Clay was emptying vegetables into a bowl on the center island.
“Good timing.” Clay’s eyes widened. “I see the clothes fit you. You look good.”
She wasn’t used to getting compliments, but maybe it was because she’d lost some weight while imprisoned. “Thank you. They’re perfect.” She smoothed her hands down her shirt and over her hips.
“Have a seat while we serve dinner.”
“Can I help?” When she’d visited her big family in Costa Rica last year, there were at least four people running around trying to get the food out for the hoard of relatives.
“We’re good.”
She couldn’t exactly insist. Two beers and one glass of water were already at the table so it was easy to tell where they wanted her to sit. A ton of questions raced through her mind about her situation, but she figured they would let her know when they saw fit.