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He’s definitely watching me.
Corner by corner, I search the room. The window is where I start. I check each light. I search through every nook and cranny in the armoire that sits across the room. Lifting my hand, I run my fingers along the seams of the large ornate piece of furniture. There’s nothing there.
Am I making it up?
Are the goose bumps caused by my overactive imagination? Is this feeling of being watched all in my head?
My head shakes.
No.
I have always trusted my instincts in life because they’ve never led me astray. And my instincts tell me a camera is in this room…somewhere.
There has to be. I just need to figure out where it is. I’ll search this whole damn room, top to bottom, until I find it.
Next to the piece of furniture is a night-light plugged in. At first glance, it looks ordinary, except for the blinking red light at the bottom.
That’s…weird. Right?
I don’t remember a blinking light on any night-light I ever had during childhood.
That’s got to be the camera.
I move closer, my feet slapping against the hardwood floors. When I’m standing in front of it, I kneel. Staring directly into it.
It’s a backup battery.
God, I’m such an idiot.
On a huff, I lie down and look up at the ceiling, wondering if I’m losing my mind with every second I’m stuck in here.
That’s when I see a little blue light gleaming from above.
My gaze narrows in on the smoke detector.
I scour my brain and try to remember what color a smoke detector is supposed to be. I don’t have one in my apartment, but we did back when I was a kid and my parents were alive.
It was located in the hallway of my old house. When my parents would argue, they’d do it from their room. I’d sit just outside their closed door to listen in. I never understood the words they slung at each other, and I’d find myself focusing in on the detector out of boredom.
Green.
The smoke detector flashed a green light.
Not blue.
Bingo.
That’s the camera.
It’s by the door, far enough from my bed that he wouldn’t get a close-up but would be able to get a clear shot of the entire room.
My heart hammers in my chest. A hummingbird trying to take flight behind the golden bars of a cage.
I was naked inside this room earlier. Who saw me? Who watched while I stripped off my clothes before heading to the bathroom? Was it Gideon? Or maybe one of his goons? Worse yet, some faceless man who got pleasure out of watching me. Looking at my body.
I feel sick to my stomach.
The need to flee is so intense that my legs bounce in anticipation. Except that’s not possible.
