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“Damn it.” Comprehension dawns on his face. “She’s been using tons of breath freshener to cover the smell. I thought it was just because you made her feel like she smells bad, but she didn’t want me to know that she’d been puking. All right. You’re good at all that compassion crap. How do I fix this?”
I shake my head. “Not every problem has a solution, Joshua. Honestly, and I’m not just saying this to get my way, but the only thing you could do that would come close to helping her would be letting me go or killing me, which you won’t do because you’re a useless asshole.” My voice rises with anger as I speak. These bursts of rage come out of nowhere these days.
Wearily, he waves away my insults with his hand. “Can we not waste time stating the obvious? I need to find a way to make her stop feeling whatever it is she’s feeling.”
Jesus. How can a genius be so stupid? “Don’t you get it? You can’t. Even if you killed me, it wouldn’t solve the underlying problem, which is that she’s a mentally damaged woman who’s obsessed with a man who can never love her. You can’t make her feelings go away. Feelings don’t work like that.”
He frowns, shaking his head, dismissing the notion that there’s something the mighty Joshua Smith can’t do. “I’ll go talk to her.” He pushes back his chair and walks away.
“Good luck with that,” I call after him, and there’s pure spite in my voice. The hell with him and her both. I reel my pity back in. They’re a sick, terrible pair; they deserve each other.
He reaches the door, then turns around and comes back. He quickly gathers up all the plastic silverware.
“Good call,” I say, looking at him with pure, unadulterated hate. I could have made that spoon into a shiv. And I would have.
He stands there, the plasticware clenched in his hand.
“Thank you for helping her,” he says to me. He sounds sincere. He’s got that look in his eyes, that tenderness that might even be real.
“I’m regretting it already.”
“No you’re not. I’ll be back in a few minutes. You can tell me what you’d like for dinner.”
I can’t hide the surprise on my face.
“You’d actually let me pick the menu from now on?”
“I didn’t say that. We can take turns.” He smiles at me. “Unless you pick really crappy food. Then it’ll be all me.” I smile back, then I catch myself.
No. Joshua’s not my boyfriend, and we’re not having a fun afternoon of light banter. I am sitting here chained to afucking chair.
I make myself scowl and look away. He said he’d be right back, but he leaves me sitting there for a very long time, and my bladder starts sending me sharp signals of urgency. I’m pretty sure that I’ve been there at least an hour. What is he doing? There’s no way he’s spent that much time with Elizabeth. I start yelling, with increasing annoyance.
“Damn it, Joshua! I’ll pee on this chair if I have to!”
He comes storming in and unchains me, then hurries me down the hall to the bathroom. His demeanor has completely changed. Something big has happened. “Settle down,” he says impatiently. “I’m dealing with an emergency.”
After I pee, he rushes me toward the playroom. “I’m going to have to restrain you for a few hours,” he says as he hustles me through the door.
I’m curious what could have the normally unflappable Joshua Smith so rattled. His muscles are as taut as bowstrings, and his eyes have gone distant and stormy. “What’s the emergency?”
Tension radiates from his body and wrinkles his normally smooth forehead. Whatever it is, it’s got to be big.
“Someone embezzled a hundred million dollars from me, sent it to a Swiss bank account that I can’t access. It’s impossible, and yet they did it.” He bites out each word as if he’s spitting poison.
My jaw actually drops. Someone did that to Joshua? He’s a genius, he’s paranoid, he’s alert to threats all the time. How in the hell?
“Was it the same person who set off your alarms that day?” I ask him, hazarding a guess.
“I don’t know yet. What made you think that?” He looks at me narrow-eyed, as if suspecting I might somehow be behind it. I wish.
“Because those were both times when someone managed to get past your defenses. It just seems logical. I hope you don’t figure it out, you know. I hope they ruin you.” I smile serenely. Someone’s hurt him. I wish I could find that person and give them a hug.
His eyes spark with malice. “You’re a very smart girl, Toy. And I enjoy your company, but I’ve let it distract me when there were threats that needed to be addressed. I’ve been off my game. I’m back on it now, believe me. I will find out who did this to me, and I will make their punishment last for weeks.” Then his expression turns thoughtful. “I don’t think it’s Mark. I wish it were—that would make it so much easier.”
My blood turns to ice. “What did you say?”
He glances at me impatiently as he moves me toward a chain on the floor. “Mark, your homeless friend. Mark is the one who sent those emails to the police and the newspapers, telling them that you went on a date with me right before you disappeared. Mark didn’t cover up his email trail all that well, which is one of the reasons I don’t think he’s the person who stole my money, or even the person who set off my alarms. That person is way more sophisticated, so apparently, I have two enemies, not one.” A contemplative look crosses his face. “Not surprising, considering the kind of life I lead.”
