Текст книги "Deceiving Lies"

Автор книги: Molly McAdams

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Funny how things like that change when you’re in these kinds of situations. Kash usually drove me crazy. He was so stubborn, and such a smart-ass, but I missed those annoying traits so much. I missed the way our personalities clashed and resulted in us fighting; I would give anything to fight with Kash again. The thought of having children with him used to terrify me, and now I was afraid I’d never get to have that opportunity. And I hated the nickname Sour Patch so damn much, but I would never complain about it again if it meant hearing Kash’s voice.

Tears pricked my eyes, and I blinked quickly to keep them back. Taking a deep breath in to tamper down the emotions bubbling up, I concentrated on finishing the last nail and screwed the top on before looking up at Taylor. “Do you know my name?”

“I do.”

“Why don’t you ever use it?”

He bit down on the inside of his cheek and looked away from me as he thought about what to say. “I stole you away, I didn’t meet you. When you meet someone, if they want you to know their name, they give it to you. It’s like a privilege, and you didn’t give me that privilege.”

“I named you,” I admitted softly.

He jerked his head back to look at me again, and his brow scrunched together. “What?”

“Uh, well, I named you. I was always thinking of you as him or he, and I eventually got tired of it.”

When I didn’t offer anything more, he leaned forward and put a hand out, palm up. “Well . . . ? What’s the name you gave me?”

“Taylor.” In my head, it’d been easy to think of him as Taylor, but now that it was out there, a blush was creeping up my neck and over my cheeks.

He barked out a loud laugh and leaned back. “Oh God, not you too? That’s not the first time I’ve gotten that.”

I’d been stunned by his laugh, but then joined in with him at his admission. “Well! You look just like him!”

“Thanks . . . I guess?”

“It’s a compliment, trust me.”

His dark eyes met and held mine, and I looked away momentarily to break the connection. When I looked back at him, I cleared my throat and offered a small smile. “Um, my name’s Rachel.”

“I know,” he whispered roughly.

“And yours?”

He seemed to think for a few seconds before flashing me a sad smile. “You can call me Taylor.”

My first reaction was disappointment before I realized the danger for him in this situation. He was a criminal, and I could already give a very detailed description to an FBI sketch artist. Knowing his real name would just add to his likelihood of being caught when this was all over. If it was ever over.

Biting back the disappointment, I smiled and offered him a hand. He took it carefully, making sure not to touch my nails. “I would say it’s nice, but that probably isn’t the right word. It’s . . . very interesting to meet you, Taylor.”

“I’m glad you decided to ‘meet’ me, Rachel.”

“Me too.” And honestly, I was. If this were under normal circumstances, I knew Taylor and I would be friends. He was a mix of Candice’s brother, Eli, and Mase. But as it was, I didn’t know how to feel about him.

All I knew was that every day I was more positive than the last that he wasn’t only my way to safety, but he was also the key to my freedom. And I was going to cling to that safety net, because my life and freedom depended on it.

11

Kash

TAKING OUT MY LIP RING, I ran my hand through my hair one more time and grabbed the file off the passenger seat of my truck before jumping out and smoothing down my tie as I walked toward the closed-off building. I went through the process of checking in and going through the metal detectors before I walked through the halls to the meeting room. I watched as families, lovers, and friends met up with inmates and talked at tables, and waited until I saw both Deon and Luke escorted in.

Their faces pulled together in confusion when they didn’t see Serena and Nadia sitting at a table waiting for them, but per my request, Deon and Luke were seated at a table in the corner. The guards stood there waiting until I walked in, and with a practiced smile and flash of my badge, excused them.

“Thank you, gentlemen, I appreciate your help today.”

When I looked down at Deon and Luke, I was met with twin glares, but neither said a word until I sat down.

“You fucking pig. We’re in here because of you.”

“Where’s your partner? Or did you two break up?”

I smirked and steadily tapped the hard edge of the file against the table. “Aw, good to see you two too.”

“Wipe the smile off your face, you piece of shit.”

“Deon, I’d like to remind you that I’m not the one shackled to a table right now.”

“I’m surprised you’re even able to smile,” Luke said, and attempted to cross his arms through the cuffs. “What was it I heard recently? Your wife was kidnapped?” He clucked his tongue and shook his head slowly. “Tragic. Just tragic. Isn’t it, Deon?”

“Absolutely. I figured you’d be more torn up about something like that. She must not be a very good lay.”

At any other time, I couldn’t imagine not lunging over the table and beating the shit out of them. But I knew this meeting was crucial, and if I let them see any emotion, if I hinted at the grief that was tearing at me, this would all be for nothing. So I kept my smile in place and continued tapping the file on the table.

I’d tried hardening myself to what was happening, and as far as everyone knew, I was too far gone to be helped. Not being able to handle the guilt and heartache, I’d stopped looking at the evidence coming in of Rachel’s torture. Now all I wanted to know every two days was if she was still alive. Anything more than that, and this facade I’d worked so hard at creating would crack. I’d lose it, and if I let myself give in to the pain and grief . . . I would be gone.

“Any luck on that case, Kash-man? Or maybe she’s dead? Maybe that’s what’s happening? Did you ever find the bastards who took her?”

“Enough of the bullshit”—I cut Luke off and set the file down—“you and I all know who took her. What I find funny is that the two of you—well, and I’m guessing the rest of the crew—still think she’s gone. She escaped, we got her back a couple days ago.”

Both men went silent, but their faces gave nothing away.

“I’d love to tell you the department’s plans, but that would just give you time to warn the men that took her. So I’ll keep that information to myself. Funny that they haven’t told you she slipped through their fingers yet. They must just be too scared because they don’t have a backup plan to get any of you out of prison yet. Oh well.”

Silence continued to greet me, so I opened the file and pulled out the large photographs, keeping them facing me.

“You know what else I find funny? That Serena and Nadia finally got over their hate for each other. Good to see they became friends and are living together.” I put down the photograph of the girls’ house on the table, facing up. “Even better, they are helping each other raise the kids.” I slapped down the picture of Serena, Nadia, and all seven kids playing out front on the table. “Jesus Christ, can you imagine having to go from not working, to supporting seven kids combined?”

Deon’s and Luke’s eyes were wide, and their breathing had deepened, but still they weren’t saying anything.

“Oh, but don’t worry about that either. Because Nadia and Serena were getting along so well, they got a job together.” I laid down three pictures of the girls in next to nothing, standing on a corner, and leaning into car windows.

Deon’s hands fisted on top of the tables, and the chains tightened when he tried to pull them into his lap to hide them.

“But, as we all know, your whores had meth habits. And from what their new supplier is telling me, they’re spending a lot on it. When they’re not fucking other guys to get it, that is. So, of course, this has been happening quite a bit.” I smacked down a picture of both girls unconscious on the couch of their home, with glass pipes on the table. “Which obviously means this happened.” I laid down a series of pictures of child protective services taking the children from the home, and both Nadia and Serena being arrested. I clicked my tongue and huffed a laugh. “Ah, man, good times.”

“I’ll kill you,” Luke growled.

“What is it you want?” Deon asked.

“Oh, no, no. I’m not done. So before the children were taken so they could have a chance at a normal life, and before your women were arrested so we could take some more of the filth off the streets, and before my girl escaped . . . yours talked. And they talked a lot. Even if Rachel hadn’t escaped, your girls gave up the rest.” I grabbed the second-to-last picture and my expression darkened when I looked back up at the guys sitting across the table from me. “But not without a little persuasion first.” Setting down the picture, I waited for the reaction I knew was coming.

Both men tried to lunge over the table, but being shackled to the ground and table didn’t let them get far. I turned and held up a hand to the guards who had begun making their way over to us, and with reluctant nods, they backed off. I’d gotten the pictures of the women and the kids, while sitting in my car, across the street from wherever they were at the time. The ones of them doing drugs and sexual favors to get more drugs: Sunny and his crew had helped out with those. How he got RJ to get back with Serena for that time, I didn’t know, and didn’t give a shit. That last one, though; Mason and I had paid the girls a visit for that.

They remembered us and knew we were the reason their men were in prison. We’d cuffed them to chairs and had shown them some of the pictures I was showing Deon and Luke now, in order to get them to stop screaming that they would tell the boys that we’d threatened them. When asked where they were keeping Rachel, both immediately shut up.

The picture Deon and Luke were looking at was of two of my guns pointed at their heads as they cried and kept rambling about “the house,” how “she’s at the house.” Neither of the girls had been hurt that night, we’d gone there to scare them, and that’s exactly what we’d done. But when Mason and I broke into the house where we’d lived with Juarez and his crew two days later . . . we’d come up empty. By that time, we’d already anonymously called child protective services and given copies of some of the pictures as evidence, and the women had already been arrested.

And because of our last visit to them, visiting them in jail wasn’t exactly an option right now.

I focused back on Luke and Deon. Both had their eyes narrowed into slits and glued to me, both were breathing so hard their nostrils were flaring, and both had gone back to not speaking.

“So you see”—I said darkly and leaned close—“you played this game with me, took what’s mine, and tried to ruin my life. I can’t be positive, but I’m pretty sure I just won. And now I’ve started my own game . . . now I’ve taken what’s yours. Only difference between your game and mine is, you’ll never get yours back.”

Luke growled, and I smiled.

I began gathering all the pictures together and put them in the file. Just as I started to stand from the bench, I waved the last picture in the air, facing away from them. “Oh, I must have missed this one. Did you want to see the picture where their new suppliers are fucking them while someone else shoots meth in their arms for them? No? No, didn’t think so. Have a good life in prison, gentlemen.”

Deceiving people was natural . . . it had been my job for so long that lying to protect myself, or those I loved, was as easy as breathing. I’d promised Rachel that there would be no more lies, forgiving or not. When it came to her, there hadn’t been, and there wouldn’t be when she came back. But all bets were off until I found her. I would deceive anyone, lie about everything, and do anything to get her back.

The wicked grin I’d been forcing myself to wear to continue taunting them fell as soon as I turned and began walking from the room. I thanked the guards gruffly as they let me out of the secured doors.

As soon as I was in my truck, I called Mason and told him I was on my way to his apartment.

Once I was there, I went over the meeting with him before we destroyed all the pictures I’d taken and received from Sunny. Just as we were planning out what he was going to say when he went in to meet with Deon and Luke tomorrow, my phone rang. Glancing down at it, I stared at the name for long seconds before I finally hit the green CALL button and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hey.”

Sniffling met me on the other end for a bit before her shaky voice choked out, “She’s going to be okay, right? You are going to find her, aren’t you, Kash?”

My eyes hit Mason’s, and I put the call on speakerphone before responding. “Yeah, Candice, we’re gonna find her. We’re looking for her right now, I swear to you we’re doing everything we can.”

“I’ve, uh, I’ve been thinking. Maybe I should still come to Florida, help you look for her. Eli, Mom, and Dad want to come too.”

“No.” Mason and I both responded at the same time.

“Candi, babe, that’s not the best idea.”

“Mase? But, but maybe we could help, you know?”

“Candice we’re doing everything we can to find her, we have a lot of really good people looking for her,” he said. “And being here might end up just being too hard for you guys because you’ll be faced with it every day. It’s constantly on the news, in the newspaper . . . it’s everywhere here.”

“But it can’t hurt to have more people looking,” she argued.

“Candice,” I said softly, “we’re not searching for her body. If we were, we would need more people. Right now, they’re hiding with her, so we’re looking for them. It’s different, and I agree with Mason, it would probably be harder for you all to be here.”

Her quiet sniffling turned into sobs and she cried out, “I just feel like I can’t do anything, and I’ve never been there for her when she needed me!”

Candice called me every day and we had this exact same conversation. I got calls from her parents just as often. Eli was the only one who called solely to get the details of everything that was happening before he hung up on me. To be honest, I think he blamed me for all of this too. At least I wasn’t the only one.

I looked up at Mason helplessly as Candice continued crying, and he grabbed the phone from my hand, took it off speakerphone, and walked away, talking quietly to her.

As much as I hated to say it, I couldn’t handle talking to them right now. I knew they were devastated, I knew they felt lost and helpless, but I was trying not to feel anything at all . . . and I had to stay focused on finding her. If I went back to making sure that they were all constantly taken care of throughout this, then I would go back to feeling like I couldn’t make it another day . . . another hour . . . another minute without her. The second I let myself feel all of the pain I knew was waiting just below this robotic mask I was wearing, I’d crumble, and I couldn’t afford to crumble right now.

I already had to see my parents, and they were doing worse than Candice and her family was. Because not only were they mourning Rachel’s loss every day, but they also had to see what I was turning into as a result of all this.

I waited on the couch until Mason came back into the room and handed me the phone.

“What’d she say?”

“They’re not going to come right now, and I made her put her dad on the phone. I advised him that even if—when . . . I’m sorry—when we find her, it wouldn’t be a good idea for them to come immediately, or possibly anytime soon. I told him that although they’d want to see her, she might not be ready to see anyone, and we’d have to be careful with her. I think he understood. I’m not sure if Candice and her mom will though.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Mason, I appreciate it.”

“No need for thanks, you know I’m here for you. And I know you don’t want to, but both our parents are waiting for us at my parents’ house. So let’s take my truck. We can go pick up Trip, and on the way there we’ll talk about what I’m going to say to Luke and Deon tomorrow.”

I ground my jaw, and Mason began pushing me toward the door.

“You can’t do anything more today, Kash. You’re waiting on word from Sunny, I’m gonna talk to the guys tomorrow, and you have been working nonstop since you saw Sunny over two weeks ago. You need to relax for a night. Just relax, maybe get some sleep, recharge, and go back to it tomorrow.”

“It’s not like this is just some job that I’m devoting my life to. I’m trying to find Rachel!”

He locked his door and shook his head slowly as he turned to look back at me. “I know, Kash. But with the way you’re going, if you find her, I don’t know what kind of guy she’ll be coming back to. I’ve never seen you like this, not even undercover. You’re changing, you can’t lose yourself in the process.”

“I’m doing what’s necessary. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

12

Taylor

“DID YOU GET FOOD FOR EVERYONE?”

I stopped walking and held back a curse before turning to face Dominic and Marco. “You were all eating when I left, why would I bring you food?”

“Why would you bring her food?” Marco asked, his tone challenging.

“She needs to eat too.”

“No, what she needs to do, is get that fucking jackbooted thug boyfriend of hers to release our brothers. We need her to get some more evidence put together. Bring her to the lab later.”

Shaking my head, I took a step back and turned to head down the hall. “No.”

“You’re crossing a line, brother.” Dominic spat the last word out, and I turned to face them again.

“This whole fucking thing is crossing a line. Besides, I’m following orders from Romero. Take the girl, but don’t harm her. Yours is to get the brothers out by using her. From what I’ve seen, them thinking she’s the girl in all your videos and recordings is using her. You just haven’t succeeded in getting them free. I’m doing my job, you’re the ones who are failing at yours.”

“If we don’t get them out, then we all fail. There’s been no response from anyone in the police department in weeks. We’re watching them, everyone including the boyfriend stopped looking for her a week ago!”

My eyebrows rose at Marco’s words, and he sneered a laugh.

“Exactly. We need more from her. Bring her to the fucking lab.”

Turning again, I called over my shoulder, “If they’ve stopped looking for her, that’s your problem, not mine. You don’t get to touch her.”

“Is this really coming from Romero? Or maybe it’s someone else. Yeah, we’re supposed to use her to get the brothers out, but how the hell are we supposed to use her when you don’t leave her unprotected?”

Freezing, I schooled my features before turning back to him. Dropping my head low, I slowly looked up at him from under my eyelashes, a sadistic smile pulling at my lips. “You want to go question Romero’s orders . . . be my fucking guest. I’ll start counting down the days until he has you killed.”

I had him, and he knew it. No one questioned Romero. Not unless they had a death wish. Just the same, if Romero ever found out I’d changed his orders so I could protect her . . . I would end up with Dre, six feet under.

When Marco’s face acknowledged defeat after our conversation, I turned and blew out the breath I’d been holding.

“Cruz! Cruz! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll bring her. Our brothers need her!”

With my free hand, I threw up a middle finger and continued walking away. I wasn’t worried that the department had stopped looking for her. A sick, twisted part of me was excited. My first thought had been, If they stopped looking for her, was it possible that Rachel would one day stop waiting for them to find her?

As I walked toward the room, I kept trying to force those thoughts away. I stole her. She isn’t mine to keep, I continued to chant to myself, but that fucked-up side of me couldn’t stop smiling. She’d changed since she’d been here. She was comfortable with me . . . that was clear. I knew it was too much to hope that she might ever feel something for me. But was it wasted time imagining that day would come?

Rachel

THE SOFT BEEPS SOUNDED from the opposite side of the door, and in walked Taylor with a mischievous smile on his face. Snapping my journal shut, I set it down beside me. One of my eyebrows rose when I tried to sit up to see what he’d brought for dinner, and he turned the food away from me.

Sitting back against the wall, I eyed him and hated that I could hear the pout in my voice when I said, “You were gone a long time.”

His full lips tilted up at the corners and he dipped his head. “I went out.”

Must be nice. “Where’d you go?” And when the hell did I turn into the clingy woman?

“Close your eyes.”

“What? No! Why?”

Taylor’s expression went blank, and he prompted me to close mine again.

I shot him a glare before closing my eyes but stayed still as stone and strained to hear every movement he made. Other than a couple heavy footsteps and the telltale sounds of food containers being opened, there was nothing suspicious. But, oh God, the food smelled amazing.

I heard Taylor lower himself to the ground before he said anything again. “Open your eyes, Rachel.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. My eyes flew open, and I gasped and lunged toward one of the boxes. Not even caring that the expensive-looking chicken pasta dish was sitting in front of me. There was freaking cheesecake, and I’d been deprived of sweets for far too long.

The massive slice had been mere inches from my mouth—and yes, I was about to eat it without utensils—when it was snatched from my hands, and I looked up to see Taylor holding it away.

“That would be dessert, you can wait.”

Not only did Taylor suck at picking out clothes for women, but he also didn’t understand the need to have sugar. And I happened to be one of those women addicted to it.

“If you value your balls and your life, you will hand that back over right now.”

His dark eyes widened and a smile lit up his rugged face. “And I say you’ll wait for it.”

Without warning, I lunged for him, being careful not to land in the actual food sitting in between us. Taylor flew back until he was lying on the ground, and he stretched his arms way above his head to keep the container away from me. But I’d landed on him, which meant I had the advantage here. And that cheesecake was mine.

I started crawling over him, but he just laughed and brought one of his arms down to restrain me. “Since when are you impatient?”

“Since you brought cheesecake, damn it!” If he didn’t release me soon, I was about to go full baby-mode and start making grabby hands toward the dessert; maybe I’d even cry. “Please!”

His rich laugh filled the room, and he barely grunted when I punched him in the side. I managed to wiggle my way a few more inches up his body and didn’t even notice his laughing had stopped; because at the same time, the arm around me stopped restraining me, and just simply held me.

Which meant I could make another grab for it.

I dug my knees into the concrete floor and pushed myself closer, and nearly cried in victory when my hand grabbed the cheesecake right out of the container and brought it to my mouth. I took a huge bite out of it and moaned before rolling off Taylor. Not caring to go back to my mattress, I stayed there, on my back, and finished my cheesecake.

It was so fucking delicious I wanted to cry.

Turning my head to the side, I smiled at Taylor, but the smile slid from my face when I noticed him watching me intently with those dark eyes.

“What?”

His eyes seemed to focus, and he shook his head and turned it to look at the ceiling. “Nothing, just didn’t know a simple piece of cheesecake would turn you into a crazed fiend looking for their next fix.”

“Hmm, next time, Ben and Jerry’s. It’s like water for me.”

“Ice cream”—he huffed a laugh and sat up—“got it. Now come back here and eat real food, or are you not hungry anymore?”

“Does it matter? I got what I wanted,” I said with a smile.

“Yeah, I noticed that,” he said so softly that if I hadn’t been passing him to get back to the mattress, I wouldn’t have heard him.

I sat across from him, and like he always did, he waited for me to start eating before digging in himself. Other than a few jokes from him when he began eating his own slice of cheesecake, we’d eaten in silence. He’d had a faraway look all through the pasta, and even when we were both done and talking about nothing again, he kept averting his eyes from me. I was dying to ask what he was thinking, but I’d learned from Kash that if someone wanted you to know something, they’d tell you.

So I bit down on my tongue and let him continue to act like there wasn’t a weird charge between us that just thirty minutes before hadn’t been there.

When we got back that night from my evening trip to the bathroom and to take a shower, I’d crawled onto the mattress and grabbed for my journal.

“Can you keep the light on for a while? I want to finish writing.”

Taylor’s hand dropped from the light switch on the wall and he sat down in front of the door. “What is it you’re always writing?”

“Uh—”

“Do you write songs or poetry? Or do you just write?”

I knew he was trying to get rid of the awkward vibe we’d had between us the last couple hours, but this wasn’t something I was willing to share with him. “It’s kind of personal,” I said softly and glanced up to see if I’d offended him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that, I’ll let you get back to writing.”

“I . . . I just don’t usually talk about it.”

“You don’t have to explain, it’s—”

Suddenly the lights went out, and we both went silent. I heard Taylor stand up and the door open, but for the first time, no light filtered in from the hall. “Rachel, do not move. If anyone other than me walks in here, scream, you hear me?” he whispered.

“Yeah.” I put my journal back down and crawled to the back of the mattress. I was shaking, but it wasn’t in fear. Some part of me was imagining Kash and Mason cutting the power and coming to rescue me. It was ridiculous, and so silver screen . . . but I couldn’t help it. It had been twenty-two days since Taylor had brought me the journal, which meant I had been gone for over a month. After that amount of time, I was allowed to have silly fantasies of being rescued.

“Rachel, it’s me.”

I frowned when Taylor’s voice filled the room.

“There’s a really bad storm and the power is out, at least on this street.”

“Oh,” I said dejectedly.

“Come on, we’re gonna go to my room.”

My head snapped up, and I could make out the shape of his body in the doorway but nothing else. “What? Why?”

“Because this room needs power to lock, mine doesn’t. So come on, let’s go.”

I stood and walked the few steps over to where he was, and with my hand stretched out in front of me, waited until it bumped into him. He laughed and grabbed my wrist before towing me out of the room. We stopped in the kitchen and at a hall closet on our way there, picking up water, candles, and matches. And by the time we got to his room, I was practically sprinting into it and urging him to lock the doors. Something about being in those halls and not being able to see the other guys had chilled me to the bone, to the point that even after I was sitting on Taylor’s bed with my knees pulled up to my chest, I was still shaking.

Taylor went around the room, lighting enough candles so we could see, before using a flashlight app on his phone to check under the bed, in the closet, and the bathroom. I didn’t need to ask what he was doing; I knew he was checking to see if the others were in here with us.

When he was satisfied with his search, he stood next to the bed with arms crossed over his chest and stared down at me. “Did you get your journal?”

Even though I knew I hadn’t grabbed anything when we’d left the room, I still patted his bed beside me, looking for it. “No.”

“Can you sleep?” When I nodded my head, he took a step back and spoke softly, “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

ROLLING OVER TO MY OTHER SIDE, I let my eyes adjust and watched Taylor at one of the weight machines in his room. Unlike the times he worked out in my room, he had his shirt off and was only in a pair of running shoes and mesh workout shorts. He did each rep with ease, but sweat was running down his body, and I wondered how much of a difference this was for him now after spending so long without it.

Minutes passed before his voice caused me to jolt back. “I know you’re awake, Rachel.”

“Uh—”

“Do you need anything, or are you just bored?”

“I can’t sleep.” And I wished I had stayed facing the other way. Getting caught staring at him while he worked out was still beyond embarrassing. But he spent days on end staring at me, it was only natural for me to do the same when he finally did something.

He let the bar go all the way to the top before releasing it and turning his body so he could look at me better. “I’ll go shower.”

“Wait, what?”

“That’s too loud, I’m keeping you awake.”

“You’re not, you don’t need to stop . . . I just can’t sleep.”

“I’ll be back soon,” he said when he stood, but he paused when he turned toward the bathroom. “Anything happens, Rachel, you scream. Understand?”

There wasn’t a point in arguing with him about working out; he was always trying to make me as comfortable as possible. If he thought he was keeping me up, then there was no changing his mind. “Yeah.”

“Don’t go to sleep.”

“I know, Taylor.”

He turned back and shot me a smile, but it quickly faltered. “It feels so wrong to leave you in here.”

It felt wrong to be left alone, but I didn’t want to voice that. “I’m fine, go shower.”

“Scream,” he whispered.

The water turned on a minute later and I got out of the bed and walked around his large room as I waited for him to come back out. I wished I could spend time walking around here with the lights on, so I could see if there was anything personal laid out. I wanted to know what kind of guy Taylor really was, other than a confusingly protective and sweet kidnapper.

I picked up one of his free weights and about died under the heaviness of it. I had spent over a month sitting on a mattress, not moving. Although he kept me well fed and I’d had no form of exercise, I still felt like I was thinner than when I’d been brought here. And not that I’d had much muscle before, but I was positive there was nothing there anymore.