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“How about a drink?”
“I think,” I say to him, noting the measured way he talks. Like he thinks he’s playing me. Or he’s got some kind of card up hissleeve. “I think you’ll forgive me if I don’t take any salt, bread, or wine from you.”
“So cynical.”
“I’m a fast learner. You and your cronies kidnapped me, locked me up, and drugged me, including the last bottle of water I had. Since I spent the last night chained up and not in that weird ass cell I vaguely remember, I’d like the bathroom. And for fuck’s sake, a shower.”
With a long sigh, he nods the beaked mask toward the bathroom. From here I can see the gleaming soft creams of the tiles, and something inside snaps. I hold out my hands.
“I’m not removing the cuffs.”
“Of course you are,” I say. “I can’t escape or else you’d have me chained up. So, remove the cuffs.”
He’s thinking. It’s in the stillness of him that gives it away, and then he reaches into his pocket and tosses me the small key.
I catch it and deliberately fumble as I unlock the cuffs. I’m not about to confirm the level of my skill to him by doing it in the moments it’d normally take me.
When they fall, I get up and stalk to the bathroom.
At the door, I pause, looking back. “If I find out there’s a camera in here, I’ll get Jac and Hendrick to hunt down every member of your family and kill them.”
“What makes you think they’re not behind this?” he asks.
“This isn’t their style.”
I step into the bathroom and lock the door behind me, sagging against it in relief at this small respite.
I spend time combing my hair with the complimentary comb. I smell of expensive hotel, ylang-ylang and bergamot. Theshampoo, conditioner, soaps, and lotions all have the same perfume.
As someone who keeps scents very low key, it’s strong. I’ve taken care of business, allowed myself one glass of tap water, and had a fifteen minute shower. I’ve even brushed my teeth.
I’m avoiding the mirror because I’m sure I’m a palette of bruises.
With a sigh, I pour a second glass and drink it slowly, pulling on the cream linen day pajamas that were artfully set out on the vanity.
I trash my underwear.
Then, I look in the mirror.
It’s both not as bad as I thought and horrific.
The right side of my face is swollen. Black, blue, and purple bruising give way to greens and yellows.
It doesn’t hurt as much as yesterday. I look thinner than usual. I don’t remember eating but they must have fed me and given me water—possibly drugged—in that messy nightmare memory of the cell with the mattress and the toilet.
I refill the glass and take another sip. The water in my belly will keep me feeling full, at least for a while. I’ve learned early on that hunger can also sharpen my brain, now that the drugs seem to be out.
Closing my eyes, I set the glass down and lean on the vanity. I’m aware the day pajamas are shackles of a sort. As are the lack of shoes.
They’re not going to kill me so it’s in my best interest to get as much information as I can. People tend to spill more than they intend to. I’m not sure about the masked menace out there, but relax a person enough and listen both to what they say and what they don’t, and there’s a wealth of knowledge to be had.
They’re not going to kill me. Not yet. Not until they get something from me. No, I’m thinking not until I get somethingfor them.
“I want it and the rest of them,”he had said.
Them? Does he mean jewels? He must. Why else steal a jewel thief if it wasn’t about jewels. Again, they could have hired me, but they didn’t.
Which means…
