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Why would he want that? How would that be useful to him at all?
And why would I ever agree?
I wouldn’t.
I would never.
I don’t even know him. I don’t even know his last name.
I glance around the massive bedroom. And standing here, finally alone, it all hits me.
I’ve been kidnapped.
No one knows where I am. No one knows that I’m in danger.
And I saw a man kill someone tonight.
Well, technically, I didn’tseeanything. I heard two male voices. I heard something pop. And then…
Images of Lee’s dead body fill my vision.
The blood.
The hole in the head.
The vacant eyes.
Nausea washes through me.
I didn’t even like him, not at all after today, but still…I’d seen those eyes up close and alive only hours before.
My stomach lurches and I dart toward a darkened doorway, thankful it’s the bathroom.
Don’t puke. Don’t puke. Don’t puke.
Some motion sensor turns on soft lighting nearby and it’s enough to guide me toward the little separate room in the far corner that houses the toilet.
Stumbling, I catch my palms on the toilet seat, and squeeze my eyes shut as my body heaves.
I hate puking.
Tears stream from my closed eyes, as I cough and spit. My insides and emotions roiling in turn.
Blindly, I reach for the lever and flush away the evidence of my weakness.
My body sinks to the floor and I’m finally able to push my hair away from my face as I dry heave one more time.
I don’t know if it’s the fear, the sickness, or the cold tile beneath me, but I’m suddenly freezing. Colder than I’ve ever been before.
This isn’t happening.
I hold my hair with one hand and spit once more, before flushing for a final time.
This can’t be happening.
I sit on the floor, forcing in a few deep breaths.
I need to stay in control.
