“You’re not doubting yourself now, are you, Little Bird?”
His ability to seemingly sense what I was thinking was more disturbing than the disappointment in his tone.
“I’d have to consider you a formidable foe for that to happen.”
“Formidable foe?” His lips pursed together as he gave a slight nod. “I like that.”
My pulse picked up pace as Preston took one last, long step around the cage. It wouldn’t be long now. Any second now, he’d unlock the door and come in here, and I had to be ready. My entire body tensed when his hand dropped down to finger the lock.
“I’ll tell you what…there’s a knife in my back pocket.”
My gaze instantly snapped back to his.
“If you can get it, then I might let you take a swing.”
Why would he tell me that? This seemed like a trick. Still…a knife would be more effective. I took a second to calculate the length of my arm versus the visual width of his hip. It was possible, but was it worth the risk? I could always use the rope first and then go for the blade. He couldn’t fight back if he were unconscious.
It wouldn’t be the first time I had to do something like that. My dad still didn’t know who put that tattoo on his stomach. Maybe if he had practiced what he preached, he wouldn’t have been branded a deceiver.
“It’s right here.” Preston reached around to pat his right back pocket.
He wanted me to take it? “That’s your second mistake.”
“You think I’m underestimating you?”
“Aren’t you?”
“I’ve watched you for two years Little Bird.” His brow rose. “I know you’re patterns.”
Not all of my patterns. “I guess we’ll find out.”
For some reason, my comment made Preston smirk. “Welcome to my parlor said the spider to the fly.”
Seriously? I knew that poem well. If he thought that was how this was going to go, then he was dead wrong. This was my parlor, not his.
“You do realize that ninety percent of male spiders are eaten by the females they mate with.”
“There’s only one problem with that Little Bird.” Both his hands wrapped around the bars as he brought his face in closer to growl, “You’re the fly in this scenario.”
My eyes once again shifted back to the lock.
We’ll see about that.
My first hint that something was wrong was when Preston stepped back instead of unlocking the door. Then came the gleam heating up his otherwise cold stare. I didn’t even notice the small object in his hand until a hollow click rang out, and the cage began to rise.
I jerked away from the bars sliding up my back.
What the hell?
That I was not expecting, all my nerves lit up as panic dug its roots deep into my gut. In the cage, I had a barrier. There was something between us. My safety net was dwindling by the second.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Preston should’ve come in the door.
Was it even a door? I’d never seen it open, nor did I think to look for hinges. If I was wrong about that, what else was I wrong about? Were we in Ashen Springs? Did the pillow I was sitting on have a pit under it? Was the bathroom even a bathroom, and was that drip echoing from inside always there? I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
Well, there was one thing I was sure about.
Preston Whitley was having fun.
