Page 81 of Sweet Deception
With a hard sigh, I fold my arms. “He’s not coming back, little one.”
But even as I say this, my eyes drift to the wall surrounding the property. I’m envisioning the road beyond it, fantasizing about what Darren’s return would look like. What would I say to him?
Screw you for leaving me here again.
How could you just abandon me?
I missed you.
Holding myself tighter, I spin away from the window and pace into the bathroom, where I splash cold water over my face and try to reclaim whatever sanity I have left.
What’s the matter with me?
I was abducted while trying to find Lucy, and now I’m longing for the man who captured me?
Despite every furious cell in my body demanding that I never shed another tear again, heat prickles the back of my eyes.
I’m angry and confused and desperate to get out of here, that’s all.
I refuse to believe that…that horrible man means something to me.
How could he? I certainly don’t mean anything to him. He walked out of here without a single word, with no intention of returning.
Still, every corner of this place harbors an echo…of his laugh, his touch, the way he observed me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Even this bathroom. I can’t come in here without remembering the way he fell, how we wrestled like children until he got the better of me.
My stomach rumbles. Despite the way hunger fills me with longing for his cooking, I’m thankful for the distraction. I can’t stand to be in here anymore. Not with all these unfamiliar emotions running rampant in my mind.
I scoop up Piro and wander downstairs. Even though I’m not officially sequestered to my room, I hate to leave it. Wandering anywhere else in the house means I’m within sight of the bodyguards or I’m being bombarded with memories of my time with Darren.
When the guards come into view, they stiffen, like they’re trying to appear extra intimidating. I move cautiously, careful to stay as far from them as possible while I round the corner into the kitchen to forage for food. As I dig around in the refrigerator, Piro jumps up onto the counter where Darren fed him bits of egg and tosses me an expectant look.
Before I return to my bedroom, I retrieve a small kitchen knife, just in case. Back upstairs, I lie down, Piro climbing up onto the mattress and curling around my ankles as if sensing my turmoil.
For a while, all I can think about is Lucy.
She doesn’t have time for me to play prisoner here. I don’t have the luxury of hoping these men might care enough to help. I need to get back to my mission.
After observing the guards the past few days, I know they change shifts at dusk.
I’ll only have minutes between their perimeter sweeps. It won’t be much of a window, but for Lucy, and for all the girls ensnared in Troy’s web, it will have to be enough.
My fingers trace the cool metal of the kitchen blade while Piro headbutts my other hand, purring.
I made a promise. To Maya. To myself. I won’t just stand by while Lucy’s life hangs in the balance.
Not even for a man who cuts through my loneliness like moonlight through fog.
But I can’t go back to my apartment either.
Maybe with what I know, I can secure actual police involvement. If not, I’ll get to Mrs. Guseva’s and work out my next move.
I wait until early evening, counting the minutes until the guards’ next shift change.
There’s only one window in this place that doesn’t have bars on it. The one in my bathroom. Naturally, they didn’t think anyone would be small or flexible enough to squeeze through the frame. It’s my best shot.
When the time comes, I gather up Piro, settle him snug inside my bra, lock myself in the bathroom, and switch on the shower to allay any suspicion. Then I head for the window set high into the wall above the toilet. Standing on the closed lid, I make quick work of the lock with the kitchen knife.
Once I’ve gotten it open, an evening breeze ruffles my hair. I pull down the screen, stick my head out, and peer straight down. Tendrils of English ivy wind up the walls. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to use the mature vine to climb all the way down. I think.
