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Even though it’s a complaint, his eyes brighten with excitement at my words.
After setting my breakfast in front of me on the floor, he hurriedly goes through the tunnel. When he comes back, he’s holding out a flannel button-up to me. “Put this on.”
Staying still, I study the familiar pattern. “Is that my dad’s shirt?”
I recognize the red-and-black plaid. I remember my dad wearing it while I sat on his lap and watched cartoons. He used to keep Cheerios in the breast pocket for me snack on.
Taking it, I run my thumb over the softness. It’s pilled from years of wear, and I bring it to my nose.
There’s a hint of the laundry detergent my mom uses, but there’s something else.
The scent of someone. It doesn’t smell bad. Actually, there’s an alluring quality to the unidentifiable crispness.
Without glancing at my captor, I ask, “Did you wear this?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hurt my dad?”
“What? No.” He sounds appalled at the accusation butcome on. Seriously?If he’s willing to abduct me, then he’s capable of anything.
“Then how did you get his shirt?”
“That’s not important right now.”
“Then what is important?”
“Me,” the tiny woman interjects. “More specifically, my time. I’d like to hurry this along.”
“Hurry what along?” I look up at her as I unfold the shirt, swing it around my body, and slip my arms into the sleeves.
With a disgruntled noise, she hefts a burlap bag off her shoulder and rummages around inside it while talking to the man. “Do you realize how much trouble you’re going to be in for snatching me away like this? I’m the king’s favorite, you know.”
The king? For a second, I start to think I’m in some big prank. They’re talking about royalty. This isn’t real life.
The guy scoffs, his upper lip lifting with a sneer to show one of his fangs. “You underestimate me. I’ll only be in trouble if they can find me. Good luck with that.”
“You’re underestimatingme,” she counters angrily. “I could blow the roof off this place before you do your little disappearing act. Then we’ll all be nothing but flesh rotting underneath the rubble.”
I wince at her morbid description, and I actually sense a shift in my kidnapper. It feels like static electricity, the way my skin prickles, and the hairs on my arms stand.
“Try it, and I’ll snap your neck,” he threatens, glaring down at the woman with a menacing expression that chills me to the bone.
“No, you won’t. Look at you.” Unafraid, she chortles. “You don’t even sound like you mean it. You’re like a yipping little puppy now that you’re lovesick.”
A puppy? Lovesick?
If I were her, I wouldn’t be goading a psycho over his obsession with me, no matter how ridiculous it may be.
The woman puts her focus on me. “Hello, dear. I’m Astrid.”
“H-hi.” I deliberately don’t tell her my name in return because I’m not sure what she’s planning for me yet.
“Are you all right?” That’s the first time I’ve been asked that question in days, and it makes tears spring to my eyes.
“No,” I answer. “I’m being held here against my will. I want to go home.”
“But you’re unharmed, yes?” Astrid scans me with her honey-hued eyes. The color isn’t too far from mine. I’ve always liked my eye color because they’re such a light brown, they remind me of the maple syrup my family sells.
