Wanted (Amanda Lance) - By Amanda Lance Page 0,30

tried to be resourceful and look for a weapon. Where there were drawings there would be drawing utensils, right? Sharp things.

My heart was throbbing inside me before I even understood I was terrified. Who would come for me now? Would they each take turns trying to kill me?

I approached the door slowly. My pulse raged in my ears again and I shook my head, trying to ignore it as best I could, though it was exceedingly difficult. It seemed as soon as my hand was within reach of the door I saw a shadow from the other side collapse slightly. I inhaled sharply and tried to steady myself.

Someone was waiting for me to come out.

I carefully put my ear to the door and tried to determine how many of them were out there. I already knew Wallace was good at sneaking around, so it was possible he was out there, but it was difficult to figure out who else.

A heavy step came closer to the door, revealing the shadow of two large feet. As far as I could see there was only one person, not that the numbers made any difference. I had already proven I wasn’t very capable of defending myself. I stifled back another sob and covered my mouth to mask the sound. If nothing else, I wouldn’t give whoever was there the pleasure of knowing how terrified I was. As I did so, I could smell clove and aftershave from the other side of the door.

I nearly cried from relief. If Charlie was there, then I was safe.

I played back the thought in my head, Charlie would keep me safe. I smiled and slid down against the door. Six days, I thought. Okay, I can handle this.

With a great deal of amusement I watched the shadows of his feet as they paced back and forth past the door. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing, but every so often I would hear his boot smash up against the floor, followed almost immediately by the smell of a freshly lit cigarette. He continued to do this for quite some time. So much so, that I settled myself on my stomach on the bed and watched the feet shadows move, counting the number of paces I could hear before they stopped and started again. The steps were almost the same on each side, rhythmic in a way. It made me want to know if he was counting, too.

I don’t know how much time passed before the pacing stopped and the knocking started again. Although I felt considerably better about him, I still knew better than to let him in. And yes, I was aware he could have easily broken down the door or used a key if he wanted—but I hoped he wouldn’t. I had a very strong feeling he would stay away as long as I asked him to.

It was strange that he was being kind to me, or at least as kind as a murderer and a kidnapper could be. There were some reasons I could gather as to why my abductors had allowed me to live so far. But this odd sort of protectiveness that Charlie watched over me with seemed to be something different. And while I wanted to continue questioning it, I also didn’t want to push any remaining luck I had.

I opened the door slowly with an underlined caution that I knew I’d have to keep with me for the next several days. A small slant of fluorescent light pierced the room and ruined any effect the shadows may have had. I took a deep breath and opened the door all the way.

Charlie wasn’t there. In his place was a small offering of a pre-packaged meal, a water bottle, and a snack cake.

I smiled but quickly scolded myself in case someone may have been watching. Even though my stomach protested, I decided to leave the food there. Though I was over the suspicion of being drugged, I did this mostly because I didn’t want to acknowledge that I needed his or anyone else’s help. It was one thing to be a prisoner, a hostage, but I wasn’t going to be compliant. I wouldn’t let them know how much I was truly indebted to their care. The other reason was more practical, though related to the first. I had no idea where any sort of facility was if I needed one, and while I would have to find a bathroom and even a

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