Page 11 of Guarded from Danger

Not that I’d ever take it. No way. I’m hanging on until the bitter end.

I can’t even imagine how horrible it would be for Xavier to find me like that. And hewillfind me. I’m sure he’s out there looking right now, so worried, probably beating himself up for not being there that night. Blaming himself for something that wasn’t his fault. Like either of us could have ever expected something like this happening.

So I need to make sure I’m alive when he gets here. That’s why I’ve been rationing my food so carefully, only eating a half can of vegetables or tuna each day, along with one bottle of water that barely quenches my thirst. By my calculations, I’ll have enough food and water to last for two weeks.

Two weeks has to be enough time for Xavier to find me. Right?

I’ve been trying to figure out a way to escape, but I don’t have the strength to pull the chains from the wall. And the shackles are too tight to pull out of, even if I was double-jointed, which I’m not.

For a few hours, I debated trying to break my hand and foot, but I remember researching it for a book once, reading how, if you don’t break the bones in just the right spot, you won’t be able to get free, and the subsequent swelling can make things even worse.

On the fourth day, I managed to pry one board off a window, hoping to call for help. But there’s nothing around but trees and shrubs. No buildings, and no one to hear when I screamed untilmy voice went hoarse. No one to wander by and notice a hand waving at them, or a woman begging them for help.

It’s horrible, this feeling of utter helplessness.

At first, I kept thinking,why me?

But isn’t that what everyone thinks when something unimaginably awful happens to them? And really, up until now, my life’s been pretty blessed. Loving parents, a comfortable life, two jobs I love, friends, good health…

And Xavier. The most unexpected blessing of all.

That’s what I’m clinging to now. Everything I have to live for.

My parents, who have done everything in their power to make me happy. Who have always supported me, even when I announced that I wanted to get my MFA in creative writing instead of getting a business degree and working with my dad at his company. Who own every single one of my books and display them proudly in the living room, bragging about their author daughter to everyone who visits.

They probably don’t even know what happened to me. Not on their Antarctic expedition, the fortieth anniversary trip they’ve been planning for years. While I’m sure Xavier tried calling them, I doubt he’ll be able to get in touch. Not until they get back to port in Argentina.

Hopefully, I’ll see them when they get home. I’ll get to look at the hundreds of photos my dad took, something I would normally dread but now can’t wait to see.

When I start to get nauseous from hunger, I think about all the people I want to get back to. My parents. Amanda. Remy. My friend from high school, Kali. Xavier.

When the despair gets so heavy it’s hard to breathe, I think about Xavier. Not Xav, like his friends call him—I don’t mind it, but to me, he’s Xavier. Or when we’re in bed, snuggling after sex, sometimes I call him honey. He always laughs, saying he’s not sweet enough, but I disagree.

Under his tough exterior, he’s the sweetest man I know.

Since the sun came up, I’ve been thinking about our last date, trying to remember each perfect detail. It was our five-month anniversary, so Xavier wanted to do something special. I was expecting a nice dinner, or maybe a show in San Antonio, but what he chose was so much better.

When we showed up to the aquarium, I thought it was closed. The parking lot was nearly empty, and there were no visitors milling around inside. But when I asked Xavier about it, he just smiled and said, “It’s all ours for the night. I rented the entire place. We’ll have dinner by the tropical fish, and we can spend as long as you want exploring.”

It was so incredible, walking hand in hand with him, marveling at the colorful stingrays and majestic sharks and delicate corals, stopping every so often to kiss, my heart never feeling so full.

God. I miss him so much.

Why didn’t I tell Xavier I was falling in love with him? Why was I so scared of rejection?

And now…

My eyes burn, but I’m too dehydrated for tears.

But it’s time for me to move again, so I drag myself off the floor, using the wall for balance. While I know I’ll conserve more energy if I stay sitting down, I’m not willing to let my muscles get any weaker than they are already. Because if by some chance my captor returns, I want to be able to fight back, not just lay on the floor like a lump.

Or at least try to fight.

I’m weak, but I can still do some things. Poke the guy—at least, it was a man who took me—in the eyes. Kick him in the groin. Punch him in the throat.Something.

As I slowly make my way from one side of the cabin to the other, the chain attached to my ankle drags behind me. Each dayit gets heavier, and a ridiculous thought strikes me—this would be one heck of a leg workout.

I can imagine the advertisement.Who needs expensive exercise equipment?Just loop chains around your ankles as you walk, and in a month, your butt and thighs will have never looked better.

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