Page 47

Oh god, I’ve made him lose his mind. Is this worse than killing someone? Will a jury give me the death penalty? No...I think they got rid of it in Washington a few years ago. Okay, I have to google that later. Can the police see what you search for in incognito mode?

“I should go and leave you to calm down.”

TheJawstheme tune is gone, replaced with some high-pitched violins screeching like I’m running away from the murderer in a slasher movie. My breathing is getting erratic. What the hell am I doing? I’ve abducted someone, held them hostage, acted like they’re not really a hostage, and then offered to let them go. I’ve gone so back and forth I’m like one of those awful shake rides at the fair. No wonder he’s losing it. He doesn’t know what’s up or down anymore.

I head to the stairs, running two at a time. I need a contingency plan. I have to think.

“Olivia, wait...Let me explain,” he calls out, panic replacing his humor in 2.2 seconds. More evidence that he really has lost all sense of reality.

Ignoring him, I run out the door and swing it shut. The gravity of what I’ve done is finally hitting me square in the chest. There is no one I can turn to. Not a friend who would back me up, no parents, and I certainly can’t go to Danny. Austin will think he was involved. No. Best to keep him out of this.

Nausea runs through me, and before I can think, I run to the bathroom quickly and vomit up my breakfast. My hands shake, my skin has a cool sweat clinging to it, and I feel awful. I know what I need to do. I have to face the consequences and just hope and pray for a miracle that the man in my basement really isn’t the awful bastard I thought he was.

Because if he is, I’m as good as dead.

I give myself twenty minutes to panic. Then I eat some crackers and down some water. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I feel a little better. All I need to do is go down there, unchain him, and then hope that I don’t get murdered. Should I drive him into town? Call a cab? I suppose if I do get murdered, I won’t have to worry about the logistics of him getting back home.

I stare at my face in the small bathroom mirror. I look surprisingly fresh. My skin is plump, and my hair is smooth and silky. Having him here has done wonders for me. Selfishly, I wonder what it would be like to keep him around. I know...Iknow I can’t. Obviously.

But he’s not the horrible beast I thought he was; at least, I’m ninety-nine percent sure. He could be someone I could actually fall for. If he weren’t holding my brother hostage, that is.

I tie my hair back and run my hands down my black-on-black leggings and crop top. It’s practically a uniform, but far from the usual bright colors I wear. Today is all business. Or a funeral. We’ll see.

I step out of the bathroom and somberly walk down the stairs. Rounding the corner, I reach for the basement door, but see it’s open. The door is a hair-width ajar, and I can hear a voice that doesn’t belong to Austin.

I hold my breath, desperately trying not to make a sound as I strain to hear the hushed voices.

“I told you, I’m handling it. I’ll be back by Friday.” That’s Austin.

“Boss, I can handle this right now. What are you doing? Playing with your food?”

In a low growl I hear Austin spit back, ”Say that again, Luca.”

Luca. Danny had mentioned him. He’s someone from work. But how the fuck did he get in my house? I quickly turn my back against the door so I can still hear, but dart my eyes around the rest of my house so I can check for any other “employees” that may be lurking.

“Boss...I’m sorry. We’ve known each other for a long time. You’re like my brother.”

“Then why are you questioning me now?” Austin hisses, using a tone I don’t recognize. This is the man I’ve been afraid to meet.

“Because you’ve got to admit, this is out of character for you.”

“Well, I’m shaking things up. Things need to change, Luca.”

What things?

“You’ve stalked this girl for two years.”

Stalked me?

“I didn’t stalk her.”

What the hell?

I draw my hand to my chest, like one of those cartoons that’s trying to push their heart back in their chest when it’s pulsating out. Except this isn’t love I’m feeling. I feel...scared? No. That’s not it. I can’t put my finger on it, only that my body is taking charge; my brain needs a second to catch up.

“Fine, you turned up where you knew she would be for two years. Never said a word. Never made a move. And now what? Now you’re playing house.”

“We’re hardly playing house, Luca.” I hear the chains clink together, and I can picture him holding them up to him.