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Kamden is still asleep.

Curled tightly on his side now, as far as the cuff allows. One cheek is pressed deep into the pillow, and his stuffed rabbit is still in his arms.

He’s safe.

I stare at the grainy image until my eyes sting.

Mathias knows.

There is no fucking question about it.

He knows I lied.

Knows the witness he ordered dead is breathing somewhere under my protection.

And instead of confronting me, he let me walk out the door.

14

Kamden

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is that Adrien isn’t there, followed quickly by the urge to pee.

My brain comes back slowly, thick and cottony from sleep, and for several minutes I lie beneath the comforter without doing much of anything except blinking at the ceiling and trying to remember what day it is, where I am, and why Rabbit is tucked so tightly beneath my chin that one of her ears is pressed against my nose.

It doesn’t take long at all for everything to come back to me, and I bury my head back under the covers as the memories of what happened in the bath earlier wash over me in a rush of heat.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to rationalize getting aroused from my captor’s gentle touch, or how I really want him to… to touch me again. Not even in a sexual way! Just… if he could kiss my forehead again, that would be… nice.

The pressure in my bladder gives a more insistent throb, rescuing me from myself.

I sigh, the sound too loud in the quiet room, and roll onto my back. The mattress dips beneath me.

Adrien said I’m supposed to ask for things.

He said being good means telling him what I need instead of letting myself get uncomfortable because I’m too nervous to say something.

So this should be easy. Embarrassing, maybe, but straightforward. My throat feels dry as I turn my head toward the door.

“Adrien?” My voice is a sleep-roughened croak.

Silence answers, thick and complete.

I swallow, trying again. “Adrien?”

Nothing. He’s probably in the kitchen making coffee, the scent of which hasn’t reached me yet. Or in the shower, because people shower, even kidnappers. Especially this one, with his military-grade obsession with cleanliness. A faint, unwilling smile touches my lips as I press my face into Rabbit’s soft ear, but it vanishes as another urgent pang twists through me.

It’s fine.

He’ll hear me eventually.

I lie there for another little while, or, at least, I think it’s a little while. There’s no clock in the room and no window to gauge the approximate time from the color of the sky.

I noticed that yesterday but hadn’t cared much, because Adrien kept coming in often enough that time broke itself into meals and conversations and naps, and, well, I was also more concerned with the being-kidnapped part than with really caring what time it was.

I try counting.

One Mississippi… Two Mississippi…