Page 6 of Pet

“I really have no idea,” I responded apologetically.

“Then I want everything,” she said bluntly. “My clothes, computer, all of it. I don’t have a lot, but I need everything.”

I was a little taken aback but quickly agreed. She turned to go get dressed, and I watched the outline of her body through the towel as she walked away.

When I left to go get her things, I saw the SUV still parked outside my building. They didn’t follow me, so they must be watching for Cara, to make sure she didn’t leave. I hoped she would listen to my warning and not try to run away.

Security on Cara’s campus was surprisingly lax. I was able to walk right up to her dorm and spin some story about being Cara’s relative and needing to collect her things as she was ill and would be away for a while to the bored-looking RA at the front desk. She barely glanced up from her homework as she told me the room number, and I used the key Cara had given me to get in.

Her room was neat and tidy, covered with artwork and photos of friends and family. I realized Cara wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t have a lot. I could easily pack all of her belongings in a couple of bags. At the last minute, I took all the decorations off the walls and threw them in, too. Maybe having her photos would make her feel more at home.

I just wanted this nightmare to be over, for both of us.

Chapter Five

Cara

I sat on the couch in the living room of William’s apartment, eagerly waiting for him to come home.

I had made popcorn and recorded our favorite show to watch together—a crime drama we both loved—and looked forward to having company after being alone all day.

William had actually been wonderful. I had come to believe him when he said he hadn’t known James and his men were going to kidnap me, and that he just wanted to keep us both safe by having me stay here. My first day here, I’d tried to run, and got as far as the lobby before I saw the black SUV parked outside, with James’ men waiting.

I got right back in the elevator and didn’t try to run again after that.

It took a while, but after about a week of dancing around each other, William and I started to open up to each other. He really seemed to be a good man.

I was touched when he brought everything from my dorm, like I’d asked. He’d even taken all my photos and paintings off the walls and brought them, too. He offered to buy me whatever I wanted to feel more comfortable and assured me he was working on a plan to get me home, but we just had to wait until James and his men lost interest in me.

And true to his word, he never laid a hand on me. He never stood too close or made any creepy remarks, or did anything at all to make me feel unsafe. Quite the opposite, actually. I felt much better when he was near.

He’d been working from home a lot, I think mostly to keep me company, but today he’d said he absolutely had to show face at the office. And I actually missed him while he was gone. I’d started to think of him not as my captor, but as a… as a friend.

Was I completely crazy? Was this what Stockholm Syndrome felt like?

But it wasn’t like I washappyto be here. I desperately wanted to leave the apartment, to go back to school, my friends, and my life. But I also felt grateful, in a very weird way, that if I was going to be sold as a sex slave, at least I ended up with someone as nice as William.

And it wasn’t like I was in love with him or anything, although, I had to admit, he was really very good-looking. He was tall, broad, and always well-dressed in elegant suits. I liked seeing under his “bigshot lawyer” mask, seeing him in his sweats and a T-shirt at the end of the day, laughing at something he was reading or watching on TV.

His most striking features were his steel-gray eyes and white-blond hair—an icy, platinum blond you rarely saw without the help of a stylist—which he always wore tightly slicked back for work. At home, he flipped his head forward and ran his hands through it, tousling it until he was comfortable. It was actually kind of cute.

But like I said, it wasn’t like I was in love with him or anything. Not at all.

When the elevator doors opened and he walked in carrying a plastic bag, I was so excited I jumped up and hugged him, startlingly both of us.

It was the first physical contact we’d had. I was surprised by the jolt that went through my body as my arms brushed the skin on the back of his neck.

We both held the hug for a moment longer than necessary, then William pulled back and stared questioningly into my eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” muttered William, putting his hands up in surrender. “I know I promised not to touch you.”

“It’s okay,Itouchedyou,” I pointed out. “I’m just happy to see you. I was so bored all day. There’s only so long you can spend on social media before you start to hate everyone,” I joked, and he laughed, relaxing. “What’d you get?” I asked eagerly, grabbing for the bag.

He swatted my hand away playfully. “It’s Taco Tuesday!” he said, heading for the kitchen to plate the takeout.

“Tacos! Awesome!” I squealed, curling back up on the couch as I watched him in the kitchen. He shook his hair out, washed his hands at the sink, and started taking out Styrofoam containers. “I have the show loaded and ready to go!” I called.

“Great.” He grinned, walking over to the couch and handing me a full plate. Then he sat down, as far away from me as he possibly could.

---