Page 49 of The Hunter
After I’d scrubbed the kitchen so hard that not a single speck of dust could be found, I wandered back upstairs to my bedroom. The phrase slipped into my mind with surprising ease, and I caught myself.
My room.
As if it belonged to me. As if I belonged here.
But I couldn’t deny I felt more comfortable in this unfamiliar, wood-paneled bedroom than I ever had in the glass-and-marble tomb Victor called home.
I continued farther into the room, taking the time to pull the sheets tight and smooth out the duvet. Then I noticed my clothes from yesterday were neatly folded on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. Clean. Pressed.
It was somewhat disorienting to see them. To know the man who abducted me had laundered and folded my clothes.
Maybe I’d watched too many crime dramas, but I couldn’t recall a kidnapper who cooked for his captive and offered her a bedroom that smelled faintly of cedar and linen instead of rot and mildew.
It would have made more sense if I was chained up in a dingy basement with no comforts. But this… It only confused me more.
Pushing out a sigh, I headed into the bathroom to see if there were any toiletries. To my surprise, one of the drawers contained a brush, along with toothpaste and a few toothbrushes. There was also a bottle of shampoo and conditioner in the shower. Nothing fancy. Just a generic drug store brand. Definitely not the salon quality product I’d been using.
I turned on the shower, allowing steam to fill the room, then stripped out of Henry’s clothes before stepping under the spray. The scalding water was a balm I didn’t realize I needed. It was a stark difference from the last time I showered.
Sunday felt like a lifetime ago now, not just the day or two it had been.
Then again, I wasn’t even sure what day it was.
I made a mental note to ask Henry the next time I saw him.
For now, I’d enjoy time to myself, regardless of the events that led to me being here.
After a longer shower than I was typically allowed to take, I stepped out and dried off. I ran a brush through my hair before dressing in my t-shirt and jeans, not bothering with the scarf since Henry had already seen the marks on my neck. He didn’t seem bothered or curious about them.
Or maybe he just didn’t care.
When I emerged from the bedroom a short while later, the house was still quiet.
Maybe even more so.
I padded down the stairs, about to search for the study Henry had mentioned when another idea popped into my head.
He was locked away in whatever room he “worked” in, which meant I was alone. Unsupervised. Untethered.
Free to explore.
To say I was curious about Henry was an understatement. So I turned away from the study and explored my new home.
The cabin wasn’t enormous by any stretch of the imagination. It certainly wasn’t like Victor’s sprawling estate, where voices echoed off marble and staff moved like shadows. This place was homier.Comfortable.
The top floor held the bedroom, with the ground level split between the living room and kitchen. But there had to be more. I started opening doors.
The first was a coat closet lined with heavy jackets, thick wool blankets, and the faint scent of pine. Nothing of interest. So I moved on.
The next one made my breath catch.
A tall gun rack stood bolted to the wall, hunting rifles lined up in a meticulous row. Not locked. Not hidden. Just…there.
I stared at them, my pulse quickening, fingers twitching. I could grab one. Find Henry. Force him to let me go.
Except I didn’t know how to shoot. Hell, I wouldn’t even know how to determine if the gun was loaded or how to do so. And Henry would disarm me in half a second. It wasn’t like I’d even have the element of surprise on my side. Not with all the cameras around. So I turned from the guns, filing their presence away in my brain.
Down a narrow hall off the foyer, I found another door, this one heavier than the others. A deadbolt latched it shut. I reached for it when I spotted the red light in the corner. Another camera.
