Page 14 of Canvas of Lies
Just as I finished buttoning the pajama shirt, an amused huff came from the bedroom doorway and I jumped, startled. Nico had opened the door and leaned against the frame, arms and ankles crossed. When he only grinned, I scowled at him.
“You are a total creep,” I muttered.
“I just came to see if you needed any help. Figured it might be difficult to get changed with a sore arm.”
He slipped his hands into his pockets, smiling benignly as I humphed, turned away to fold up my discarded clothing, and tried to fight back the blush rising in my cheeks at the image his offer of help evoked.
“I managed just fine on my own, as you can see.”
“Shame.” The word was so soft, I wondered for a second if he’d really even said it. I shot him a glance, saw his lips curve upward for a moment, then his expression grew sober. “I meant what I said earlier. You know I won’t hurt you, but I also can’t let you leave once we set things in motion.”
My mouth pressed into a thin line. “Is this you reminding me that I’m a prisoner here, even after all your reassurances that I haven’t actually been abducted?”
The curve of his lips reappeared and deepened, showing off that damned dimple again. “Yes, I suppose it is. If you don’t want to help me, this ends here and now. You go back to your life and I . . . well, I’ll think of something.”
Something in his expression—something bereft, almost hopeless—made the decision for me. This was Nico. His friendship had saved me from a childhood of loneliness and despair.
Helping him now was the least I could do to repay that.
“I’m in. I wish you’d explain what you’re after, but you have to know I’d choose you over my father no matter what. What’s going to happen if Erin tries to check in at my apartment, realizes I’m missing, and calls the police?”
“I’ll take care of it. I’m sure she’ll be worried about you, but that’s unavoidable. Once I contact him, your father will step in and keep things quiet before word gets out, believe me.” He turned away, then paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Do you remember that time you tried to steal my copy ofFirestarterout of my bedroom?”
My lips parted in surprise when he glanced back over his shoulder. “Yes,” I said slowly. “It was my favorite book and my father threw mine out like the asshole that he is. Not suitable reading material for a young girl, something like that.”
Nico nodded. “Then you’ll remember that if it comes to a physical contest, you won’t win. Sweet dreams.”
He left the room, closing the door behind him.
A startled laugh caught in my throat as I shook my head at the clear warning. It was true—he’d always been bigger, stronger, and faster, but I’d been more clever and far more devious.
Until I learned the truth about what Nico was after, I had no intention of trying to get away from him, not yet. Should I decide it was in my best interest to bow out of this adventure, however, I was confident I could outsmart him, even if outrunning him wasn’t in the cards.
With that in mind, I went back to the bathroom to brush my teeth and splash water on my face, pausing to study my reflection in the mirror above the sink. Though the cut on my arm still stung and a fresh wave of annoyance rushed through me as I lamented my favorite jacket being torn, right now I wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed and sleep for a good long time.
Let him enjoy the couch.I left the bathroom and grinned to myself as I eyed the queen-sized bed with satisfaction.
Nico had topped out at a few inches above six feet, by my estimate, and the thought of him folding those long limbs ontothe ancient sofa in the other room was an image that gave me no small degree of pleasure.
Served him right for deciding to use me as a hostage, willing or otherwise.
Chapter Five
Kat
Sleepinglatewasn’tsomethingI did frequently, if ever, but when the clock in the bedroom told me it was after nine, I still couldn’t quite drum up any urgency in jumping out of bed. My arm felt better and I’d slept shockingly well in a strange place.
Probably thanks to sheets that smelled like Nico, but I shoved that out of my mind.
At the moment, all I wanted was a hot shower. I slipped out from under the covers and assembled a passable if unattractive outfit of gray sweatpants and a black tee from Nico’s dresser drawers. I spent an inordinately long time staring at my clothes from yesterday, which had clearly been washed and folded while I slept, and I wondered if I should be impressed or horrified that he’d been in and out of the room without me noticing.
After a moment of indecision, I shrugged and grabbed my bra and underwear from the pile. No point in wearing tight jeans if we were just going to sit around the cabin for days on end. I’d save my own clothes for a time when I needed them.
For half a second, I debated opening the bedroom door to tell Nico I was getting in the shower. Annoyance at the idea of even appearing to ask his permission won out, so I let myself into the bathroom, noted that the other door into the living room remained closed, and carefully unwrapped the gauze around my upper arm.
The cut didn’t look as bad as I’d feared, just a jagged red line an inch or two long that curved around my bicep. I moved my arm around a bit to test it. The skin pulled uncomfortably when I straightened my elbow too quickly, but otherwise it felt okay, which seemed like a good sign.
I turned on the shower, waited for the water to warm up enough to cloak the bathroom in steam, and stepped under the hot, soothing spray. This break in my routine wasn’t ideal, but I’d survive.
