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“Care to share what you’re thinking about?” he asks as he uses the blanket to clean the vomit off me. His tone indicates that he knows damn well what I’m thinking about, and I hate that, too.
“No.”
He just chuckles and rolls up the blanket.
I ignore him and look at Micah, who’s watching me fiercely. “Can I please go to the bathroom? I won’t feel clean until I take a shower.”
He looks to his dad for an answer, and Judas gives it in the form of a curt nod.
When Micah unlocks the cuff, I nearly cry from the relief of not having the harsh metal rubbing on my skin anymore. There’s already a mark forming on my wrist. I glower at it.
Micah cocks his head towards the door, and I follow him out. We’re in a small room like the one I was locked in, but it’s much smaller, and there’s a square-shaped opening in the floor. The wooden stairs lead down to a dark room. Hesitantly, I follow Micah down the steps on wobbly legs. It takes a moment to let my eyes adjust to the darkness.
A hand skims my arm, making me jump.
“Easy, little doe,” Micah murmurs, close to my ear.
“Sorry,” I mumble, but I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for.
Once my eyes have adjusted, I notice that there is a small window on the far-right wall. Micah lets me walk to it and look out. It’s almost pitch black out here on the island, but I can just barely make out the forest in the distance.
“How long was I out?”
Micah’s quiet a moment. “Almost twenty-four hours.”
It’s only been a day; there hasn’t been enough time for me to be considered a “missing person” yet.
IfDad has even noticed that I’m gone.
What has he done with Mom’s body? Will he bother to give her a proper burial? I hope her death haunts him for the rest of his miserable existence.
“How many floors are in this house?” I ask curiously, peering down at the leaf-covered ground below. Much too far of a jump, unfortunately.
Micah doesn’t say anything, just grabs my arm and pulls me towards another hole in the floor that I hadn’t seen before. The stairs creak as we walk down to what appears to be an entertainment room. There’s an air hockey table in front of three floor to ceiling windows, a full-size refrigerator in the corner, and a huge flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. Six black leather recliners with built-in cup holders and padded headrests sit across from the TV.
“Why do you need this huge house if it’s just the two of you?” I ask.
Micah slides his hands in his pants pockets and looks around the spacious room. “Dad’s always wanted this house, but my mom was against it. Thought it was a waste of time and money. When she left, he immediately started the process of getting the house built. He’d always known he wanted to live out here on the lake, since we spent so many summer vacations in our old lake house. He had it torn down, built this one, and we’ve been living here ever since.”
I nod. “Was it hard to let go of that part of your childhood?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. That house wasn’t lasting much longer, anyway.”
“Do you miss her?”
“Who?” he asks distractedly.
“Your mom.”
He just shrugs and rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. “The bathroom is this way.”
Despite my feelings toward him, a part of me softens at the way his eyes turn sad at the mention of his mother.
I follow him out of the entertainment room and down a long hall to a small bedroom. There is only a full-sized bed, two nightstands, and a four-drawer dresser to furnish it. Micah walks through a door next to the bed and turns on the light.
“Shower’s in here, little doe,” he calls. “Or would you rather go back upstairs smelling like that?”
I didn’t realize I’d been standing by the bed watching him until now. Whatever warm feelings I’d started having for him instantly freeze at his words. I can’t wait to get out of this fucking house.
