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I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Morgan," I murmur. "But I can't let you leave."
12
MORGAN
Ican't believe this is my life right now.
Anger swirls deep in my gut and blooms out with a fire that makes my face feel hot. It's a complete punch in the gut to know that Trent is not only a murderer but a liar, too. I'd thought hearing the truth would make me feel better about what was happening, but it's only made things worse. And the longer I stand in his living room, the more I curse the day that I ever crossed paths with him.
I can't even bring myself to look at him now. Every time I get the courage to meet his gaze, I'm met with an emptiness, as if dealing with me is just business as usual. It makes me sick to my stomach to know that I gave myself to him because I truly liked him. Meanwhile, he's probably only with me because he was doing his job. That seems to be what all of this is about—him doing his job. No matter how much fire I try to throw on my anger, it doesn't burn brighter than the hurt that lingers when I realize he's only with me for his job, not because he likes me.
Don't you dare give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry,I mentally scold myself when tears blur my vision. He doesn't deserve my tears. He doesn't even deserve me. How could I have been so stupid and given him the most sacred part of me?With everything I now know, I actually feel used now. Before, I thought we liked each other and that we really had a connection. But now I know that he'll do anything he has to in order to get what he wants.
"Trent, let go of me," I state again as I try to pull my arm out of his grasp.
"I know you're angry, but I need you to be logical right now," he states, his voice more firm than it usually is. "No matter how you feel about me, someone is still after you. I can't protect you if you go running off."
"Fine," I snap, snatching away from him. "Well, I'm not sleeping in a bed with you."
"There's a guest room down the hall from my bedroom that you can have," he says and slips his hands in his pockets.
We engage in a silent stare off before I sigh deeply. "Whatever," I mutter. He gestures toward the hall for me to walk ahead of him. It's probably a good thing, as I'm completely prepared to make a mad dash out of his front door the minute he turns his back. I walk down the dark hallway until he grabs my hand once we get to a closed door.
"It's here," he says and pushes the door open. The room is plain and sparse, only filled with the basic necessities a guest needs. I step inside and look around before settling my gaze on Trent.
"How long do I have to stay here?" I ask.
"In this room?"
"With you."
He shrugs. "Until we get to the bottom of this," he answers. I shuffle from foot to foot as I ponder how to ask my next question.
"And then what?"
"Then you can go back to your life."
I'm not sure what I expect, but a part of me did hope that he mentioned something about us at the end of this. It'll at least help me not feel so cheap and used to know that I'll still have value even when I'm no longer in danger.
"Hungry? he asks, breaking into my thoughts. My stomach growls in response before I can say no, causing him to chuckle. "I'll reheat some leftovers and get you something clean to put on so you're more comfortable.”
I nod to acknowledge I heard him and watch as he slowly closes the bedroom, leaving me alone to my thoughts. I flop down on the side of the bed and put my head in my hands. My life has been flipped upside down, and I can’t do anything to stop it. I'm not sure about outside these walls, but I don't feel safe within them either. Everything is so confusing, with more questions arising every time another one is answered.
Maybe my dad has the answers,I muse. I mean, he has to know, right? Even before the men showed up, my dad had seemed hyperaware and paranoid while he rushed around downstairs double-checking the windows to make sure they were locked. Something is going on, something that is a major threat to me, no matter if I was with my dad, with Trent, or by myself. But I do know that I need to get out of here.
Trent returns with a stack of clothes and a bowl of food, putting them on the bed near me. "I'll give you some time alone to process things," he says quietly. "I'll be back to check on you soon enough."
He leaves just as quickly as he returns, but this time, a lock engages in the door. "What the...?" My sentence trails off as I get off the bed and walk over to the door. I try to open it, but it doesn't budge. "Trent! Why did you lock me in here?! Unlock the door!"
Panic quickly sets in, and I frantically yank at the doorknob. If he thinks he can make me a prisoner in his house and against my will, he has another thing coming.
"Morgan, you should calm down?—"
"Unlock this door now!" I screamed, beating the door with my fists.
"You can either sleep in the bed with me or be locked in this room. Because I can't trust you not to leave, I have to lock you in this room until I can trust you."
I scoffed. "You have some nerve to talk about trust after what you did," I mutter.
