Page 31 of Fire
With no other reason but to search for answers, since there was no way to escape, I opened the closet door to check out the clothes hanging inside. I didn’t want my kidnappers to find me in this nightgown, so I decided to find something more appropriate to wear. Even though the clothes in the closet were a size larger than my usual, I found something that fit pretty well. After slipping on a pair of skinny jeans and a soft sweater, I looked around the room more to see what it offered. Or, at the very least, give me some idea of where I was.
Starting with the dresser, I pulled open every drawer to find nothing useful inside. The bedroom belonged to a woman based on intimate things in the drawers. After checking every inch of the bedroom, including under the bed, I headed to the bathroom next. The bathroom provided the same conclusion. A woman had occupied this space with all the beauty products that were spread across the vanity and along with the large tub. A soft white robe hung on a hook near the door. As I pulled it from the hook, I noticed the initials JMS elegantly embroidered on the front in pink. It made me wonder who JMS was. I didn’t find one picture in the bedroom that would tell me who she was.
With nothing else left to search, I made myself comfortable on the bed and picked up the remote sitting on the nightstand. When I turned the television on, the only thing that appeared was static. As I went through the channels, I found static on all of them. I was beginning to make sense of why there were so many DVDs. I was starting to believe that whoever built this room wanted to keep the outside world away from the woman who occupied it.
Sinking deeper inside the bed, I stared up at the silk-covered canopy, waiting and wondering when someone would open the door. Without a window to look through, there was no way to tell what time of day it was. And without a clock, there was no way to tell how much time had passed. The only company I had was my thoughts, and they were getting more desperate with each passing second. This was insane.
Pushing from the bed, I marched over to the locked door and pounded on the hard wood with both fists. “I don’t know what your game is, but I deserve a little fucking respect. Open the God damn door.”
Before I could say another word, I heard footsteps on the other side of the door. I moved away from the door and waited for the locked door to open. As the door slowly opened, a light from the other side appeared. A man wearing a flannel shirt and jeans came into view. He stood much taller than me and filled the doorway with his large frame. When our eyes met, there was something about them that comforted me. He was older, maybe forty or so. The beard he wore was well-groomed, and his hair, although long, was well kept.
The silence that surrounded us felt awkward as he continued to stare down at me, looking over me from head to toe. I took a step back since the space between us seemed suffocating. Meeting his eyes, I said, “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed these clothes.”
His smile was breathtaking, and he was truly gorgeous. “Not at all.”
“Who are you, and what am I doing here?” I asked, aware that he was still grinning.
Holding out his hand for me to take, he said, “Let’s eat first. You must be starving.”
I hadn’t given it much thought since I was more concerned about where I was. But just the mention of food did make me hungry. I couldn’t bring myself to take his hand, so instead, I crossed them at my chest. “I am a little hungry.”
My handsome kidnapper allowed me to step out of the room and into the lighted hallway. Just like the bedroom, from what I could see, the rest of the home was pristine. I was unsure of which way to go, and he stepped in front of me and took the lead. As I followed him, my attention was on his broad shoulders, or rather, his backside.
Harnessing my thoughts toward something other than him, I took in my surroundings. There were four other doors down the long hallway, which I assumed were bedrooms. I wondered if they were as nice as the one I was being held in.
We reached the end of the hallway and proceeded down a staircase leading to the bottom floor. The bottom of the stairs opened up to a large foyer. Dark wood covered the way, which made it very rustic. The décor told me that wherever I was, I was still in the mountains.
As I walked across the foyer, I noticed a painted portrait of a woman hanging on the wall. She was beautiful. It made me wonder if she was the woman who occupied the room I was in. Standing in front of a portrait of my kidnapper with the same woman, I studied it before turning to him. “Is this your wife?”
“Who she is, is not your concern. Come, this way,” he said, gesturing for me to head toward the open doorway.
I let my question slide for now, but this wasn’t the end of it. Following his direction, I walked through the doorway into a beautiful dining room. The table in the middle of the room sat ten, but was only set for two. I wasn’t sure where he wanted me to sit, but he made it clear when he pulled out my chair. Before this game continued, I had to know who this man was. “Are you going to at least tell me who you are?”
“My apologies. My name is River Stevenson,” he stated, lifting a pitcher of orange juice from the table and pouring it into a glass in front of me. “Since you know my name, I think it is only fair that you tell me yours.”
“Kenzi Horton,” I replied. “Why am I here?”
“I found you by the river. You looked like you needed help, so I brought you here,” he admitted with no hesitation. “What were you doing out there?”
Did I dare tell him the truth? I didn’t know this man from Adam, and even though he might have rescued me, he was no better than Harris or Wilkerson. He locked me in a room with no way to escape. “What I was doing in the woods is no concern of yours. What I want to know is when can I leave?”
“I don’t think leaving is a good idea.”
Our conversation was interrupted when an elderly lady, about sixty, entered the room, pushing a cart filled with everything you could imagine for breakfast. Smiling up at the old woman, River said, “Thank you, Mrs. Booth.”
The older woman looked over to River, none too happy. “River, why do you insist on calling me Mrs. Booth? You’ve known me all your life. I’ve even changed your diapers.” Looking between River and me, she met my eyes and said, “You may call me Gretta.”
I liked her, and I had a feeling she knew how to put River in his place. I watched her take the platters of food, one by one, from the cart and place them on the table. There was so much food that a small army could have been fed. Placing my napkin on my lap, I watched River dish himself some scrambled eggs with ham before handing the platter to me. As I served myself, the question still hung over me. “Why can’t I leave? Is it because I’m your prisoner?”
Stopping mid-bite, River looked toward me. “You will never be a prisoner here. Based on the way you looked, my gut tells me that you were running away from someone. My only intention is to keep you safe until I know all the facts. So, Kenzi Horton, what are you hiding?”
I was hiding something, but so was he. If I wasn't his prisoner, then why the locked door? “If I’m not your prisoner, then why did you lock me inside that bedroom?”
“That was a mistake. I can assure you the door will remain unlocked from here on out.”
The way he looked at me, I knew he was telling the truth and would keep his word that the door to the bedroom would remain unlocked. Keeping the door unlocked was one thing, but allowing me to leave was another. Even though I felt that I could trust him, I still wanted to keep my option to leave open. Maybe it was time to tell him what was going on. “You were right. I am running away from someone. His name is Niles Harris. He kidnapped me, along with a man named Van Wilkerson.”
There was a loud knock at the door, which made me jump from my seat. River placed his hand on my arm and put his index finger to his lips. I should have yelled for help, but I didn’t feel threatened by River, so I remained silent.
