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I might as well sit down and write a farewell letter while wearing all black and staring morosely out the window.
Sighing, I shook my head as I pictured my favorite angsty teenager, Lydia Deetz fromBeetlejuice. That girl was my emo soul sister when I was twelve.
“Yet another pop culture reference that would leave you scratching your head, Noah,” I grumbled.
Fuck. Now I was talking to them even when they weren’t here. I had to get out of this place. It was making me a victim. And Sunday Fallon wasn’t anyone’s goddamned victim.
If Kingston were here, I knew what he’d say. “All right, Sunshine. So do something about it. If you don’t want to catch a case of Stockholm’s, you need to get your pretty ass off this island.”
My imitation paled compared to his sexy voice, but it was the best I could do.
“I’ve done all I can. There’s no way off until the boat comes, and Caleb won’t let me go.”
“Have you really, dove? Have you planned out your escape? How will you get away from him once the boat comes? Do you have a bag packed to take with you? Supplies to last until you reach your new sanctuary? Escape is only the first part of a plan.”
Wow, my British accent wasn’t so bad. If I changed my name and identity when I got free of Caleb, maybe I’d do the same for my accent.
“Bag. Right. Pack a bag. Fuck. I need money. And maybe a phone. Does Caleb even have a phone?”
“He must have something on hand. He’s sneaky, not stupid. Find it. Tear up the floorboards if you have to, Sunny. He’s hidden it away, and you need everything you can find to get you away from him.”
I didn’t quite match Alek’s Novasgardian accent, but there was no one here to judge me, so we were going with it.
There was something about pretending they were here, that we were doing this together, that soothed the jagged pieces of my broken heart.
“You won’t be getting away from me, my darling. I’ll find you. I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth and make you mine. You’ll beg for my palm on your arse after I get you back.”
“Shut up, Caleb. You’re not invited to this party.”
“You’ll have to kill me if you want to truly escape.”
Fuck.
I’d wandered into the living room while participating in this little tea party with my imaginary friends. They’d had some good ideas.
Searching the house.
Checking for anything Caleb might be keeping from me.
Killing him.
Thanks for the suggestion, Father Gallagher.
The thought of killing Caleb didn’t sit quite as easily as it had the first time it came to me. Probably because I knew now that we were talking about the permanent kind of death. I couldn’t just break his neck and risk him coming back before I made it off the island. I needed to end him. Forever.
Sooner rather than later. Because if last night proved anything, it was just how weak I was against him. Caleb was temptation itself.
The baby rolled in my belly, giving me a sharp jab in the ribs with her elbow—or was that a foot? But that was all it took to remind me of the stakes. This wasn’t just my freedom. It was my future.
I glanced at the clock, noting two hours had passed since Caleb left. I didn’t know how long it would take him to hunt, but if I was going to get ready to escape him, I had to take the advice of my imaginary boyfriends. Pack a bag. Prepare myself to run. Kill Caleb.
A sick twist of guilt gripped my stomach, but I pushed it aside. Painful? Yes. But it was my only way to break free. If the choice was between my daughter and the men I loved, it would be her every time. There was no choice. I could live with a broken heart. I couldn’t live without her.
Over the next two and a half hours, I’d managed to pry up some floorboards and hide a packed bag, easily covering my work with the rug in the living room. Unless Caleb inspected underneath the carpet, he’d have no idea. If he was still alive to take a good look. Now I was outside, roaming the grounds in search of anything I could use to help me take the last step toward escape.
I knelt by the wood and wire fence around the garden, wondering if the post might make a good stake, when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. Boards, mostly covered by rogue weeds, leaning against the back of the house.
It only took a second for my brain to register their use. They were to cover the windows during a storm.
