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I expect him to come storming down the stairs but the next time I look up, he’s gone.
I lie awake the whole night in bed. Waiting, on edge, sure each moment I’ll hear the click of a key unlocking the door as he comes to claim his prize. Because, duh, obviously he probably has keys to all these rooms.
But he never comes.
He doesn’t come the next night either.
Or the next.
I’ve given up on hiding in my room and wander the giant house freely now. He’s gone all day. Each morning out my window I see him leave out back, looking like a cowboy, big hat and all. I didn’t go exploring until the second day of no activity. He stays out all day doing… whatever he does. Ranching? All I’ve seen are cows. He disappears around the side of the house and I have no idea how big the property might be.
Even though he was gone all day yesterday, I’m still tentative as I head downstairs. Maybe I can find a computer or a phone?
Not that I know exactly who I’d email or call or what I’d say if I could. In a way, I’m an accessory to helping Dad jump bail. It would certainly be very easy to frame it that way. And the people who were after Dad… would they still try to harm me if I suddenly popped up again? How long does Dad have to be gone before they accept he’s gone?
God, even thinking about Dad makes my chest hurt. Where is he? Is he okay? He’s got to be freaking out worrying about me. And then I start panicking all over again because what if he hurts himself? But no, he swore. And he has to know that at this point, it wouldn’t do any good. I’ve already been taken. The deal is done.
Please, Dad, just be okay.
Turns out it doesn’t matter who I’d email if I could because my captor is either allergic to all technology or he has it locked up tight. There are landline phone outlets, but no phones. No TVs either. No freaking TVs.
The first floor of the lodge is pretty stripped down. There’s a well-stocked kitchen, which I raid freely. In the main lodge area, there are just a few tables and a big leather couch left in what was obviously once meant to be a big bustling common area for a lot of guests.
Both the first and second floor have fireplaces in the central guest areas, which are sparsely decorated with random furniture. While the lodge is in good shape, some rooms on the third story are completely empty of furniture altogether. I’ve only peeked up there. There’s one locked door that I suspect is the giant’s room. I didn’t pay it much attention, frankly.
Once I find the library on the second story, I keep blissfully busy.
Books. Reading. You know—that thing we all used to do before YouTube videos and Pinterest ate up all our time?
I was frankly going a bit nuts trying to play Nancy Drew and discover clues about my captor while waiting for him to decide he’s done toying with me.
Shudder.
No thank you. Escaping into other people’s drama is far more preferable to living my own.
There’s another big couch in the library by a big window. I throw back the curtains to let in the light and then cozy up to lose myself in Jack Reacher’s latest adventure for the afternoon.
That’s where he finds me several hours later when he finally comes for me.
After all that waiting, ears perked for any noise at the door, eyes strained for any movement of shadow for hours on end, when he actually comes, I’m so engrossed in the book I don’t notice him until he’s standing over me.
I let out a small screech of shock and drop the book, my hand flying to my chest.
I look up at him in my surprise and immediately wish I hadn’t. With the curtains drawn, the room is bathed in mid-day light. I can see every monstrous melted inch of the top left half of his face.
Meanwhile, his squinting eye seems to see straight down into me, measuring my disgust for him. My whole body tenses as I sit up straight on the couch.
His hair is sweat slicked and he’s pulled off the work shirt I always see him go out in each morning. He’s just in a tank top and jeans, exposing acres of muscled, bronzed skin. He’s as big as a fucking ox.
“Oh, hello.” I sit up on the couch, backing as far away from him as I can. “I was just—”
“It’s time,” is all he says. He holds out a smart phone. I blink and it takes a second to make out what I’m seeing on the screen. But then my eyes focus.
