Page 11 of Free

“This is actually good. Did you make it?” Now I chuckle.

“I don’t cook much, if any. I’m not the best at it.”

“Your mom didn’t teach you?” she asks as if she’s truly interested. Maybe she’s just bored and wants conversation which is fine by me.

“She tried. I wasn’t good at it. Burnt more than you could eat. She would get so mad at me. I remember the look on her face when I burned the pizza in the oven. She yelled at me so badly that day. The house was so full of smoke that the windows had to be opened. The neighbors probably thought we were hotboxin’ the house,” I tell her with a smile, remembering back then. I miss those times. The good old days, as everyone likes to call them.

“My mom taught me how to cook. I can actually bake better than I cook.”

“There’s a difference?” I ask, wanting her to talk more.

“Yeah,” she laughs a little. “There’s a difference. And I was better at baking. I can bake just about anything,” she tells me.

“Let’s get you settled, and then once you’re free to roam, you can have use of the kitchen.” I watch the way her eyes light up as she nods her head slowly.

“When will that be?”

“I like to let you adjust to bein’ here a few days. After that, I have a bracelet you’ll wear. It has a sensor in it that will go off if you get too close to doors or windows,” I inform her.

“So I’m a prisoner?”

“Not really. I’ll take you outside for fresh air.”

“Only if I’m good?” she asks. I shake my head.

“Even if you’re bad.” I can’t help but smirk at her. She seems easy to be around.

“I guess I should say thanks.”

“No need. I know you don’t wanna be here.”

“It’s better than where I was before,” she admits.

“Which is where exactly?”

“In those cells with the kidnappers.”

“What is your life like, Addison? What do you do? What do you like?”

“Is this how you’re going to get me to answer those questions?”

“Those are more for the doc than me. Yeah, I like to know what I’m dealin’ with when it comes to you girls. I don’t want any issues with your health.”

“So you’re protective?”

“In a sense, yeah. I worry about your health. I don’t want anything bad to happen despite what you might think.”

“So you’re a drug dealer with feelings?” She giggles a little.

“Somethin’ like that. I like to know no harm comes to the people who use my shit. It’s that simple.”

“That’s … not what I expected.”

“It is what it is,” I tell her.

Chapter 7

Addison

---