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I was broke anyway.
I usually made things for my family, and hopefully, I had enough time to pull something together. The painting I’d been working on for class was never finished, so I wrapped it up and carried it home through the snow.
I returned to the warmth of my apartment and set it on the easel. I bought some other supplies, so I could do some artwork during my break. I considered making a painting for my whole family, an image of us gathered together for the holidays. But if I were to finish it, I would have to start now.
I set my things down and then heard my phone ring.
It was my mom.
I hadn’t spoken to her since Bones captured me. She had no idea what I’d been through. I had to hide it from her, but she could usually tell when I was trying to hide something. And now that I knew what had happened to her, I’d have to keep that bottled up too.
Every time I thought about what happened to her, I wanted to cry.
My mama.
I cleared my throat then answered the phone. “Hey, Mama.”
“Hey, Vanessa. How are things? I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner. We’ve just been busy with the house.”
“No big deal. I know you guys are busy. Getting ready for Christmas?”
“Yep. Your father hung up the lights and everything is looking nice. Lars can’t get around as easily as he used to, so we’re working together to get the house in shape. Aunt Adelina’s parents are coming too, so we want them to feel welcome.”
“Oh great. I love seeing them.” I sat on the couch, thinking about the small tracker planted inside my ankle.
“So when are you coming home?”
“Probably in a few days. I need to finish up some stuff around here.”
“How did the end of your semester go?”
“Great.” I missed the last few days and took my finals without studying…so I hoped I passed. It didn’t really matter if I didn’t. “Just glad it’s over.”
“Your father and I figured you were busy. I remember how that used to be.”
“Yeah, a million years ago,” I teased.
“Oh, shut up,” she said with a laugh. “I’m not that old.”
“You certainly don’t look it.”
“That’s much better. Well, I’ll let you go. Love you, sweetheart.”
It killed me that I couldn’t tell her what was really going on in my life, that I had been trapped with the biggest enemy to our family. But if I said anything and he found out about it, he would strike them first before they had a chance to do anything in retaliation. And I wanted to tell her that I knew what happened to her…and that I was there if she ever wanted to talk about it. But I kept my mouth shut. “Love you too, Mama.”
I painted all day by the light of the window, and when it turned dark, I went out with a few friends to the bars. I saw a lot of good-looking guys, and a few even made passes at me, but knowing I was in a twisted situation made me blow them off.
They shouldn’t get involved with me.
I went home before midnight, slipped off my heels by the door, and then headed to my bedroom in my cocktail dress. Bones had been gone for three days. I didn’t hear anything from him, and I wasn’t sure when he would stop by.
I didn’t want to see his face, not ever again, but I did notice the changes in my body.
The changes in my hormones.
I was wet every night and every morning, and my mind drifted back to the memories I had of him. I might despise him for the monster he was, but there was no denying my body craved his.
I missed that good sex every morning and every night.
I’d never been in a long-term relationship before, so having sex with the same person at regular intervals was new to me. I hooked up with my other boyfriends whenever the time arose, but we didn’t shack up together for days on end.
The shame killed me.
How could I want a man who held a knife to my throat? Who kidnapped me for days? Who wanted to kill my family?
I knew it was just physical, and if I could kill him I would, but that didn’t make me feel better about it.
Only worse.
I was just about to peel off my dress and get ready for bed when I heard the front door. It opened and shut casually, like someone had every right to walk into my apartment like they owned it.
I knew it was him.
The door was locked, but he obviously had a key. A key I never gave to him.
I stilled in my bedroom, holding my breath as I listened to his footsteps on the hardwood floor. The steps became louder as he migrated to the bedroom. The sound indicated his heavy mass, his thick presence as he filled the apartment.
