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“I don’t!” she said. “That’s the whole point. I had a whole life back home.”
“Did you?” Nicholas pressed. “And what kind of life was it? You were all alone, with only a cat for company.”
“Ramona!” How had she only remembered her beloved now?
“She’s here, I brought her.”
“Where?”
Nicholas stretched over the bed and lifted a cat carrier. As he did, Sloane heard Ramona yowl.
“Careful,” Sloane said, jumping up and hurrying over to take the carrier from him. She grabbed it from his hands—it was old and heavy, but she didn’t care. She set it on her bed and immediately opened it.
Ramona sprang out into her arms. Sloane immediately brought her to her face and hugged her close. And they were both so traumatized by the days events, Ramona allowed it without running away. Ramona always hated being put in the carrier to go to the vet and the poor baby had been shut up in the horrid thing all day.
“Shhh, shh, I know, baby,” Sloane whispered, running her hand down Ramona’s fur, head to tail. She backed away from Nicholas, to the corner of her bed.
“And when we get where we’re going, what then?” Sloane asked, Ramona all but cemented to her chest. The cat wasn’t much of a shield but she still made Sloane feel better.
Nicholas shrugged, but the move felt calculated. “Then you start a new life. But you do it somewhere I can watch over you and make sure you’re safe from anyone who might come hunting for that asshole.” He gestured toward the bathroom with his head.
Sloane’s mouth dropped open in shock. It was a long moment before she could find her voice. “You’ve got it all worked out huh? My whole future. Without ever checking with me for any of it.”
His jaw went tense in that way that was becoming familiar. “It’s the way it has to be. We don’t always get everything we want. Would you rather I hadn’t shown up and that bastard was able to do whatever he’d planned?”
“No! But that doesn’t mean I wanted—”
“Grow up!” he snapped. “Enough. You’re a spoiled little American princess. I grew up not knowing where my next meal would come from. I’ve had to fight for every single scrap I ever had. I just saved your life but do you thank me? No. I’m continuing to save your life and I’m offering you future protection. Maybe you should eat the food I also provided for you and let me sleep so I can continue keeping both of us safe.”
Sloane glared at him. He wanted her to thank him? She wanted to order Ramona to go scratch his eyes out, the arrogant bastard.
She turned her back on him, fuming.
He and the man in the bathroom were proof that she’d been right—the world was a dangerous, terrifying place. The only thing she’d done wrong was put herself on display and invite the outside world into her life. And that wasn’t even wrong. She’d done honest work and should have been able to make her paycheck and keep to herself. None of this was fair!
But when had fairness ever mattered? She supposed that was his point. Spoiled. He’d called her spoiled! If wanting her freedom was being spoiled, well then yes, she guessed she was.
She felt furious and powerless to do anything to change the situation she suddenly found herself in and—
Her breaths started coming shorter and shorter. Shit. She closed her eyes. Not again.
“My medicine,” she said. “Did you bring it? I need the Xanax?”
When his voice next came, he was far too close. “I did, but it’s not safe to take along with the sedative I gave you.”
Her eyes flew open and her breaths grew even tighter in her chest at his words.
“Shh, it’s okay, just breathe,” he said. He was right in front of her, on his knees. “I read about this. Let’s do some box breathing. Close your eyes, breathe in for four seconds—”
“I know how to do box breathing,” she snapped.
But he just counted, “In one, two, three, four,” and, too panicked to do anything else, she breathed in. And when he said, “Hold, two, three, four,” she held, then exhaled the four beats along with him.
He repeated the process several more times and she could only be annoyed that she was feeling calmer by the end of it. Not that she’d admit it to him.
She just grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, ignoring him.
He backed off. “I’m gonna get some shut-eye.”
She continued ignoring him and didn’t turn down the volume on the TV at all. It didn’t seem to bother him. He climbed in the bed beside her, pulled the covers up, and was snoring in minutes.
She stared at him, appalled. Ramona had curled into a ball on the bed beside her. There’d been cat food in the carrier at least, but who knew when she’d last had any water. Sloane got up and filled up one of the little glass water cups to bring back for her—it was shallow enough she should be able to stick her head in to get at the water.
