Chapter 5 Tess
TESS
I think I’ve been abducted by a serial killer. Just my luck.
I expect him to return and threaten me or… I don’t even know. I reflect on what he told me. It’s fifty-fifty if he’s morally grey or pitch-black.
But he doesn’t. He’s left me to my thoughts and hopes of escape.
The windows are locked, the door is locked. There’s a luxurious bathroom—an enormous white stone free-standing bathtub, warm tiled flooring, and a walk-in shower the size of my bed—but nothing practical I can use. Just some really nice smelling soap.
The bedroom is the sort of plain that you know is expensive.
Immaculate. The bedsheets, when I lie down on them, are soft.
I try to remember every detail of the masked man.
I replay the image of his face, and his tattoos.
The distance to his house, and its design.
Everything I’ve seen of it is simple. Black and white and grey.
I repeat the times on the clock I saw in his car, and the signs and place names that flashed past as we left London.
If I get out of here, I need to be prepared.
I attempt to stay awake, and my mind races with what might happen next. I don’t want to fall asleep, but exhaustion overcomes fear. Eventually, I’m pulled under.