of the other and walk to the stairs. Touching the railing, I feel its cold metal between my fingertips and look down. He’s there, standing halfway down the next flight of stairs, looking up, watching me with his hands at his sides, his mouth in a straight line, and those eyes locked onto me. Does he know what emotion is?
Stepping down the stairs quickly, I come up behind him, stopping until he starts to move again. I can smell him. The scent is of smoked wood and the ocean, and I think, How is that even possible?
When we reach the bottom, he holds the door open for me, letting me walk out first. The sun hits my face as it starts to set. Turning back to look at him, he’s watching me, eyeing me up and down, which makes me feel like I shouldn’t have left the house in what I’m wearing in the first place.
“You dress like this normally?”
Ignoring his words, because he does not need an answer as to how I dress, I walk past him until I am on the side of the road to head back toward my place. I pause, thinking if that’s a smart idea, then realize he has been there before. He knows where I live, and probably a whole lot more than he’s letting me believe.
“You’re wondering if you should go toward your house, but then you realized I know exactly where you live.”
My head flicks back to him, fast.
“Am I wrong? I am hardly ever wrong.” His mouth moves, but there’s hardly any real movement. There’s no emotion; everything he says is dry and lifeless. He steps in front of me until he reaches a car that is similar to the one my boss owns. I know it’s expensive because when she purchased it, the first thing she did was bring it out and show it off. Then she told us the price tag; it was more than what I could make in years of working.
He opens the passenger door, then looks at me, his eyes on my baggy clothes before he waves to his door. “Let me take you to get your car, which I know you haven’t collected from your work.”
“What is your name?” I ask, realizing he’s never given it to me.
Oh, Thea, when was he meant to give it to you? When he kidnapped you?
I shake my head at his open door and his non-answer of my question.
So, he can know everything about me, but I am not allowed to know anything about him?
“Get in the car, Theadora, we have things to discuss.”
“You won’t hurt me?” I touch my forehead where a bruise is still forming from when he took me.
His gaze skims over the spot, then focuses back on my eyes. “No. I will not touch you at all.”
I believe him. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I do.
Walking over to his car, where he’s already standing, I climb inside, and he shuts the door behind me. Looking forward, I see the car is even flashier inside than my boss’s and think that maybe this is an upgraded model.
“You don’t plan to kidnap me again?” I ask while buckling my seatbelt.
“Not today,” he says, pushing the button to start it. He heads off in the direction of where I work. At first, no other words are spoken, and my leg starts to involuntarily bounce as I wait. He can’t seriously offer me a lift and demand I get in the car with him if he doesn’t plan to speak to me. What’s the point?
“You seem agitated. Do you get agitated a lot?” he asks with his hands firmly on the wheel, staring ahead.
“Just when I’m in a car with a kidnapper,” I retort while scrunching up my nose, but with a smile.
He huffs as if he finds my words amusing. “Maybe you should take better care of your family.”
Oh no, he didn’t just say that! He has some cheek, I will give him that. Take better care of my family? Who the fuck does he think he is? All I have ever done is take care of Lucy. In the end it got tiring, and I couldn’t keep doing it. The fact it was bringing me down as well meant I needed to allow her to stand on her own two feet. She is an adult, and it was time for her to grow up.
“You know fuck all. Keep your damn words to yourself,