Page 70 of Crawl
I may as well ask now. “I was just going to send Jenna a picture of Winstone,” I say.
He shuffles a hand over his mouth. “Why?” he asks. I ball my fists; his tone patronizing, like he thinks I’m stupid. And that pisses me off.
“I know what I’m doing too,” I say.
“Did you send it yet?”
I’m tempted to lie. “What if I did?” I ask.
“You want to risk my life and freedom, just so you can comfort your friend?”
I want to scream at him for those words. His cloudy eyes glare at me. “This isn’t about you, Cash.”
“Winstone is dead. Mission accomplished. Whether or not your friend knows is irrelevant.”
“If she doesn’t know, then what’s the point?” I ask, raising my voice. “I want to give her the comfort that I always needed.”
He nods, and for a second, it seems like he might understand. But it’s never that easy with Cash.
“Come with me,” he says.
I follow him up the stairs to the bedroom on the left, and my heart pounds. It’s the only room in the house that has been locked since I opened it on my first day. Impulsively, I run my fingers over the smooth metal of the bobby pins. The last time I tried to open the door, the lock pick didn’t work. It seems strange that he’s letting me in now.
The door creaks open, and it’s dark inside. Each wall has been covered by a thick layer of concrete now. I turn on my phone’s flashlight again, but Cash goes to the back corner of the room, finding a single standing lamp. It barely lights the room. And that’s when I see it: a metal cage, big enough for an adult to stand inside. He unlocks the padlock, stowing the key in his pocket, then goes inside, waiting for me to follow.
“What the hell?” I whisper.
“Come here.”
My skin tingles and his face is covered in darkness, but I’m drawn toward him. I go deeper into the cage. A scent similar to wet asphalt surrounds us, and I clench my sides. Cash keeps his head bent, but his cavernous eyes are focused on me.
“What is this?” I ask.
“It’s yours,” he says. As he smiles, the light from the open door catches his teeth, and they gleam like knives. “Your new home, if you choose it.”
“What?”
“Give me your phone.”
His eyes are cold and heavy, like he’s not giving me a choice. I pat my pocket, then stuff a hand inside, holding the device. “No.”
“Give me your phone, Remedy.”
“If you want my phone, you’re going to have to take it from me.”
He steps forward and I rush to the back of the cage, flattening myself against the metal. It rattles like thunder and I quickly open the messaging app, opening a new message to Jenna.
Thanks, lady,she sent earlier.Birthday present? When?
I attach the picture but Cash knocks the phone out of my hand. The screen cracks on the ground, but it stays lit. As I reach for it, Cash pulls the gun from his holster and steadies it on my temple.
“I should have gotten rid of you months ago,” he says.
Tears fill my eyes, but I’m not sure why. Is it anger or frustration or lust? Because I know I’m not afraid.
“You’re right,” I snap. “So why don’t you just do it?”
Light reflects in his dark pupils as he stares at me. Then he pulls back the hammer. The pine cologne on his skin drowns me. Each breath skips through my lungs, so I hold my breath, closing my eyes.
