Page 27 of Sinful Skulls
“Daisy,” he groans, struggling to pick himself up off the floor.
I slam the door shut, my hands shaking as I drop the lock in place. He hits the door just as it clicks, and I scream.
Henry begins to beat his fists against the wood. “Daisy, let me out.”
I back away slowly.
“Daisy!” he barks loudly, making me jump into action.
I turn and run as fast as I can down the stairs.
As soon as I’m outside, I begin to cry. This can’t be happening!
I rush back to the campus, hurrying up to my room.
“Hey.” Carly jumps from her bed. “What the fuck is wrong?”
“I … I have to get to the airport. My …. my mom is really sick,” I lie, hugging her portrait to my chest.
“Oh shit.” She rushes around the room helping me pack.
“Could you give me a ride?” I ask, shoving the painting of my mother in the bottom of my bag.
“Yeah, sure.”
I scan the flights back to the States and book the next available one as she drives.
“I’m so sorry about your mom. I’m sure everything will work out, and you’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’m sure it will. Thank you for helping me. I really appreciate it.”
I try not to look like a felon trying to escape the country as I sit at my gate, waiting for my plane. My knee bounces as I stare at my phone, debating what I should do next.
He’ll die in that room, and my fingerprints are on the lock.
Oh my god. What am I going to do?
I’ll … I’ll notify the police as soon as I’m back in the States. I’ll call and tell them I’m a student, and that he was holding me against my will, so I ran and locked him in the room.
That’s the plan. He’ll be fine in there until I get home, and then they’ll get him out. What happens after that is on him. He can explain the morbid paintings he has to the cops.
As soon as I land in Reno, I ring a cab to take me to a nearby hotel. Once I’m safe in my room, I pull my phone out of my bag to make the call. My heart stops when I spot a text from him.
Henry: The seed has been planted. I look forward to seeing it bloom.
“Oh my god. He’s out! How did he get out?!” I yell, jumping from the bed to slam the deadbolt shut on the door. I know he didn’t have his phone, because the first thing he does when he gets home each day is toss his keys on the kitchen counter, and then he plugs in his phone beside them.
My forehead drops to the door.
The memory of all those bloody paintings makes my stomach turn.
I’m not like them. I’m not.
What do I do now?
He’s on another continent,I reason with myself. He doesn’t even know where I am. Everything is fine. I can go back to my old life. There’s no need to panic. I just need to forget about him and everything he’s told me. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.
There’s no way he will continue to pursue me. That would be insane. My actions today should have showed him I have no interest in continuing in the family business. Although he did say my father hired someone to follow me throughout my entire life. Is Henry that crazy? I close my eyes and think about my paintings that still hang on the wall of his library. The thought makes me nauseous.
