called me. He got a letter at the prison. It said it was from you, and the note was harmless. But it was a picture of you arriving at the prison, taken from nearby. Obviously they didn’t manage to follow you all the way home, but they knew what you looked like. And he panicked.”
“What did he want you to do?”
“Get close to you. Keep you safe. Find the money and keep him alive.”
“Did you tell him how you managed that?”
“He can guess.”
“Jesus.”
“I didn’t tell him about your alphabet game, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“I’m wondering if you told him about the night on the trunk of my car.”
“Not in so many words.”
I rub my brow. “God.”
The oven timer dings, and Chris heads into the kitchen and comes back with a plate of wings and stuffed peppers, setting them on the couch and passing me a fistful of paper towel.
“So that’s my story,” he says, biting into a wing. “Your turn.”
“You already know everything, remember? You stalked me.”
“That was research. Fill me in.”
“On what?”
“The details. What have you been doing these past three years?”
“Just hiding out. Volunteering at the Food Bank. Mastering the skill of darts.”
He looks at the maps, then says, “Tell me about Fantasy Friends.”
Something that feels a lot like shame tightens my throat. “What about it?”
“Why’d you do it?”
“To feel something. To talk to someone. Just for a little while.”
“I thought you liked it up here.”
“Sometimes. But sometimes I just needed someone. Something. To remind me I was...human.” Unwittingly, my gaze goes to the hall, as though I can see through the wall and into the shrine, those hateful, hurtful headlines. I see Chris follow the same path and come to the same conclusion.
“Is that what those guys did?” he asks, picking at imaginary lint on his jeans.
“Yeah.”
“How many?”
I lift my eyes to his. “I don’t know. A lot. I didn’t sleep with all of them.”
“Were they nice to you?”
“Well, they never held me hostage, so I suppose so.”
His smile is tinged with regret. “Did you think I was nice?”
I think about him holding doors. Making me a sandwich. Telling me I was pretty. Smart. Funny. Things I hadn’t heard for so long. “I did. But I never really believed it.”
“Why not?”
“Because why would somebody who seemed so good be drawn to me? If you were more of an asshole, I would have been less suspicious.”
“So how about now? You must be crazy about me after all this.”
“You’re a nightmare come true.”
He shifts so he’s facing me more fully. “Where are you going when this is done, Reese? The Outback? Yap? It’ll be just the same as up here. Isolated. Lonely. They probably don’t have a dating app.”
“I’ll start one,” I reply. “The Yap App.”
“It’ll never last.”
“Then maybe I’ll move again.”
“Yeah? To where?”
“Oh, let me just give you a copy of my itinerary, abductor.”
He laughs. “You know where I’d go?”
“Back to Montana.”
“Nah. There’s nothing left there for me. I think I’d go to Europe. I’ve never been.”
“I’ve been. Lots.”
“I’ll bet. I want to see everything you think of when you think of France. The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower. And I want to go to Scotland and see Stonehenge, and London to see Big Ben. I want to go to Italy and visit the Sistine Chapel and the Trevi Fountain.”
He seems sincere. First Montana, then Holden, then the world. Maybe I’m not the only one dreaming of a different life. “The Trevi Fountain? What would you wish for?”
“Good company?”
“That’s hard to come by.”
“You’re telling me. What’d you wish for when you visited?”
“I was ten, so probably a new yacht.”
We yawn at the same time, and I laugh into the crook of my arm. It’s just after nine o’clock. “Are you going to lock me in my room tonight?”
“Are you going to come out and knife me in my sleep?”
“No.”
“Then no.”
“No handcuffs?”
He splays his hands wide. “I’d like to say I trust you, but the truth is I left them in the truck, and the truck’s part of a crime scene.”
“Lucky me.” I push myself up, and Chris does the same, limping slightly on the way to the kitchen. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, watching him grit his teeth when he bends down to put the empty bottle in the recycling bin.
“Just fine. Anyone who spends more than a night on that couch is bound to have back problems.”
“So my plan is working.”
He smirks. “Good night.”
I take my toothbrush and shampoo back into the en suite, since