“I guess you do.”
Tense silence spread between us. The narrator on the television talked about some couple’s search for the perfect Hawaiian beachfront property, but even her bubbly narration seemed dampened by the increasingly fraught atmosphere in our grimy motel room.
Apparently, Leon wasn’t going to answer any more than he had. I waited and waited, but he didn’t say anything else. I didn’t dare look at him for fear of what I’d see in those green eyes. As I waited, my fear came rushing back, twice as large, smothering my thoughts and making my body feel alternately hot and cold. Making my hands shake. I curled them into fists in my lap, sitting rigidly on the edge of the bed and staring at the television as if it held the key to my salvation.
He wasn’t answering me because he was going to kill me. That had to be it. He’d lowered my defenses a little by being gentle with me. Although “gentle” wasn’t exactly accurate, was it? He ordered me around and expected me to obey. He tied me up and threatened me whenever he wasn’t insulting me. I’d believed I was safe because I was a woman and wasn’t involved in my father’s business.
It turned out that no one was ever completely safe.
I felt his eyes burning holes in me. Probably musing over the best way to dispose of my body. I should’ve run for it when he was in the bathroom. I might never have another chance—
“Do what I tell you and you’re going to be fine,” Leon said suddenly as if reading my mind. His voice was as rough as his words were blunt.
“What if I don’t believe you?”
“Do you have a choice?” And when I didn’t answer, he went on. “Listen. It’s getting late, and it has been a hell of a day. Why don’t you get ready for bed.”
I considered saying something snarky but couldn’t muster the willpower. Iwasexhausted. Being afraid drained all my strength, and I felt listless and depressed.
So I did as he ordered, getting toiletries from my carry-on suitcase and heading into the bathroom. I kept the door open at his demand, but there wasn’t any trouble I could get up to in here. What was I going to do, nail-clipper him to death? Assault him with tampons? Squirt antioxidant-rich facial cleanser in his eyes?
I changed into the faded, stretched-out, formless sleep-in-shirt I’d brought for nights alone. Luckily, it was in this carry-on and not my bigger suitcase. It was surreal and horrible to think of that other suitcase sitting back in the penthouse with the two dead men that my father sent to drive me to the private airfield.
Had my fatherknownI was in danger and that was why he’d sent his men? If so, why hadn’t he told me or at least moved me somewhere safer? Leon had entered like a ghost and killed my father’s men without breaking a sweat. If Babbo had been trying to protect his firstborn daughter, he’d failed miserably.
And did anyone even know I’d been taken yet? How long until someone discovered the truth? When I missed my flight and Emily, Samantha, and Alyssa started calling to find out where I was? My smartphone was sitting in my bedroom where I’d left it. When my father found out I was gone and his men were dead, would he go to the police, or would he want to handle it himself?
No, he would go to the police—even the FBI—to get me back safely. I was certain of it.
On second thought…no, I wasn’t confident at all. He’d call this “family business” and keep the cops out. There was some kind of code of silence, an oath to never involve the police, no matter what…
Feeling lower than ever, I finished my bathroom routine. I kept my bra on under my sleep shirt. Sleeping in a bra was going to be uncomfortable, but I didn’t want him to see my nipples poking against the fabric of the shirt. I didn’t want him to get any ideas. That’s why I also wore pajama lounge pants instead of sleeping in panties like I usually did.
Leon hadn’t touched me that way or even threatened it, but I was of the opinion that you didn’t push your luck. I would never trust him, no matter how much pizza he bought.
I stepped out of the bathroom again, trying to act calm, but my heart rate betrayed me.
Leon glanced my way, but his gaze didn’t linger. It struck me as the kind of glance a predator would use to evaluate movement in its vicinity before focusing its attention on something more important. He was sitting in one of the chairs, and he’d moved the chair directly in front of the door.
Was he going to sleep in the chair to keep me from sneaking out if he fell asleep?
I crossed to my bed and hesitated, not sure what came next. “Are you going to tie me to the bed?”
I was certain he’d make some snide, asinine comment about what I’d said. Another quip about me being into bondage or something. After all, he was a guy, and my comment was dangling right there, practically begging for a smartass reply.
But he surprised me again.
“I should, but I’m not going to.”
I stared at him, wondering if this were some kind of trap. “Why not?”
And why couldn’t I accept anything from him without immediately distrusting it, even if I really didn’t want to spend the night suffering in zip-ties?
“I know you’re scared,” he said grimly, not in sympathy but certainly not taking pleasure in it either. “But you’ve done everything I’ve asked of you. If I tie you to the bed with zip-ties, you’ll hurt yourself when you’re sleeping. That’s if you manage to fall asleep in the first place. Icouldbind your wrists together with duct tape, but that wouldn’t stop you from getting out of bed and opening the door or causing trouble if you’re determined.” He shrugged. “You’re not stupid. You know the stakes if you don’t behave.”
Maybe Iwasstupid, though, as desperate as I was to trust that he wouldn’t hurt me. What if tonight was my only chance to escape alive? What if he meant to give me to people who wouldn’t be as “hands-off” in dealing with me? People who would hurt me in all kinds of horrible ways.
“What happens to me tomorrow?”
