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Maybe I should consider a nap. I might not be in my right mind.
I pull my hand away from my heart as she reaches the window seat and sits gingerly on the cushion, tension in her face like she thinks it’ll explode.
“It’s a cushion,” I mention. “It’s not booby-trapped.”
“Yeah, that’s…that’s why I’m worried about it.”
“You’re worried about cushions?”
“I’m worried aboutyou.” I know what she means. She’s worried about Jameson the Criminal, not Jameson the Person. Doesn’t matter. The words land with all their meanings, and that tiny, naïve part of me thinksoh, thank God, someone noticed.
But she didn’t. I kidnapped her. That’s what she noticed. “I’m fine. How about you? Feeling more coerced now?”
“About the same as before.” Lily glances around her. The window juts out from the house, framed in with smaller panes on each side, so she’s essentially in a cushioned glass box. “But, like…I’m sitting in a window seat. Is this supposed to be torture by window seat? Because I have to tell you, it’s not that bad. There’s a cushion.”
“I could take the cushion.”
A soft sigh. “Don’t. I have nothing else. You drop-kicked my computer into a lake.”
“I disagree about the cushion. Sitting on it doesn’t transfer ownership. It’s still my cushion. You have nothing.”
Color burns across her cheeks. “I get it, okay? You kidnapped me. You have some weird fetish for making random women pay for the great injustices of the world. Could you stop sitting there and get on with this? I was supposed to—” Lily cuts herself off so cleanly, like someone’s slapped their hand over her mouth. She turns her head, chest rising in quick, shallow breaths. It’s the prettiest sight. Dark panes of glass frame her flawless body, holding the night all around her, and she’s the fiery, beautiful center. Enormous green eyes return, the shade lighter than mine by about half. “I had other plans for tonight. Please get on with it.”
I don’t have a ticking clock in the cabin, but I hear one.
No. It’s not a clock. It’s my heart, counting the seconds. It’s marking the time it takes for me to decide what to do. My first instinct is always, always to go too far, too hard, too wild until someone stops me.
Lilycan’tstop me. As much as I want to, I can’t let myself loose on her.
Not yet.
And something she said nags at me. It won’t change anything for her to know this, but I don’t want the false record to stand.
“You’re not a random woman.”
Her eyebrows draw together. “Yes, I am. Unless you seriously count running into each other—”
“That’s not what I meant. I didn’t choose you because we met on the street, and I didn’t choose you because you were outside.”
My phone pings, loud in the quiet between us. It’s never made that noise before. I retrieve it from where it’s wedged between the cushion and the armrest.
THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE IN NEW YORK HAS ISSUED A HIGH WINDS WARNING FOR THE FOLLOWING AREA. OVER THE NEXT SEVERAL DAYS, WIND SPEEDS MAY APPROACH IN EXCESS OF 40 MPH…
“What’s the alert for?” Lily’s got her chin up, trying to see my phone screen from all the way over there. She doesn’t askis it for me?
I drop the phone onto the cushion next to me. “A high winds warning.”
Her shoulders droop, and her chin comes down. It only lasts two heartbeats, but it makes my chest heavy, too.Yes,I want to say.It is for you. They already know you’re missing. Help is on the way.
Okay. I’m not in my right mind, because that’s not what I want.
Not tonight.
Not until I’m done with her.
Lily’s eyes are still on the rug when her expression shifts. “If you didn’t choose me at random, then howdidyou choose me?”
“I chose you based on your personal connections.”
