Page 20 of Taking

The softness of cotton and feathers caressed my cheek, and I sighed, sinking down into darkness.

8

Gideon

I waited in the pitch black, listening to the footsteps overhead and the murmurs of the two friends. My legs grew restless as I sat beside a stack of bins, knees drawn up, arms resting atop them. My head tipped back against the wall behind me. My eyes remained wide open, unseeing through the same black as my soul.

A similar pose I’d spent hours in during those days of solitary…

Pushing aside thoughts of prison, I focused on the footfalls tracking across above me. The shower running. Silence for a time.

More murmurs.

The front door closed as Ciarra left for her Friday night date, same as the previous two weeks.

Addilyn stayed in, alone.

Time to play.

Grinning, I stayed put for a few moments longer, my plan ready to roll thanks to Twinkie’s dealer.

I just needed to get the crushed pill into Addilyn’s tea water which wouldn’t prove difficult. The woman was a creature of habit to a fault.

An hour after Ciarra left, I listened to my prey cross the kitchen floor overhead. The sink’s spigot turned on, and I envisioned Addilyn filling her tea kettle with fresh water as usual.

I eased up from my position and used a small flashlight to make my way toward the basement stairs.

Addilyn’s steps took her back through the hallway into the bathroom where she would change into that thin, blue T-shirt she always wore to bed—and I sprinted on socked feet up the stairs into the kitchen. Adrenaline coursed through me, but my hand held steady while emptying out some of the water from the kettle for potency’s sake before dropping the powder in.

I set it back on the stove and slipped down to the basement again, my pulse thrumming.

Addilyn moved around the house, and I gave her a good fifteen minutes before sneaking up the stairs again. With the door cracked open, I watched as the back of her head settled against the couch’s arm, my heart thumping in my ears.

She read on an e-reader, the TV on the other side of the room flickering, its volume down near zero.

Still awake…

Would she realize she’d been drugged? If so, I expected she’d text Ciarra—something I couldn’t allow. If she made any move for the cell I could see on the end table, I would have no choice but to walk in and take her, consciousness be damned.

I hoped for her to pass out, clueless, only to wake as my captive.

She set the reading device aside after close to a half hour or so and turned off the TV, her upper body swaying.

She continued to weave as she stood, and a soft curse left her as she grasped at the couch. Frowning, she attempted to fold a blanket, and she moved like a drunken sailor while taking her tea mug to the kitchen.

She rinsed it and into the dishwasher it went.

Perfect.

Shuffled footsteps took her back the hallway, and I let myself into the kitchen, trailing along silently after her in my socks.

Ciarra wouldn’t be home for at least three hours…plenty of time to execute what I’d been planning.

Addilyn went down face first onto her mattress, and I grinned from her bedroom doorway, my blood flooding with a fresh burst of need. I returned to the living room where she’d left her cell.

Texted Ciarra.

I’m exhausted, I typed out. Sleeping in tomorrow, so don’t wake me before noon.

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