Chapter 16
Betty
As the shed door shut, the overhead lights reflected on the steaming water.
The sight of it was panty-melting after days spent brandishing a rough construction sponge.
The contraption resembled a stew pot boiling on the stove.
I couldn’t help feeling like a lobster about to be dropped into hot water to die.
I was beyond caring about what things looked like at this point—if it did the job, then good.
My hair was a mess, and it felt mere hours from spawning lice, if that were even possible.
Besides, if I had to drag that rough sponge across my hoo-ha one more time, I was going to scream—and not in a good way.
The fire crackled, casting a warm glow around the shed. My organizational sights hadn’t yet narrowed in on this space, but it was on my list. It needed some TLC.
Being in Gray’s world was enlightening. His flaws were on full display, the largest being the lack of organizational skills. He kept everything.
I took off my boots and pulled off my socks, cringing when my bare feet touched the cool, gritty cement floor. Lordy, maybe he had a spare bath mat? Perhaps next time I’d bring an extra towel to stand on or learn how to build myself a raised wooden floor.
I assessed the contraption before me with a critical eye. It looked like an item you’d find at a steampunk convention, or a lab experiment, and I was the specimen. It also felt untrustworthy—what if I cooked to death?
I held the shopping bag he’d given me open and set it on the bench, then chose a few soap bottles to unwrap and sniff.
They seemed like pretty standard drugstore brands, ones I recognized from commercials but had never used.
Back home, I splurged on high-end soaps and lotions and rarely frequented the pharmacy—perhaps that was my flaw, because upon giving them a chance, they smelled just as good as the expensive ones.
I squeezed some vanilla body wash into the tub, swishing it to make bubbles. The water felt warm to the touch, not scorching, but like that of a lukewarm bath.
Without further hesitation, I wriggled out of my clothes, letting them fall to the floor with a thunk.
It felt weird being naked in this giant room.
I was still paranoid Gray might have a camera hidden somewhere.
Getting ahead of it, just in case, I gave the entire room the fuck-you-finger, twirling to show off my naked body with pride.
Satisfied, I braced my hands on the side of the tub and stepped in.
One inch at a time, I knelt, allowing the water to climb my legs until I acclimated to the temperature and was fully submerged.
Leaning back with a sigh, I closed my eyes.
I let my hands sink, feeling the warm water flowing into the tub from a vent near the base.
I snuggled closer to the warm vent, my long-lost chemistry brain remembering the science behind the mechanics.
The word for it escaped me, but I recalled the experiment back in high school.
It wasn’t something I bothered committing to memory because I didn’t see how it would ever apply to real life, and yet again, here I was.
Beside me on the small bench, I found a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, sliding it from the slumping plastic shopping bag.
The label read, “Formulated for brunettes”.
Gray’s thoughtfulness made me chuckle as I wondered how much the female shampoo aisle had stumped him.
I could picture him standing there, large and out-of-place holding a pink bottle and squinting at the label with that grumpy look of his. I couldn’t help but grin.
At the bottom of the bag, I spotted a pack of razors that made me squeal with joy. Taking them out, I ripped into the package, soaping up my legs and armpits before running the razor over my skin.
I sighed, bald armpits at last.
I lovingly set the razor back on the stool like a cherished keepsake and slouched further below the surface of the water.
Tilting my head back, I let my hair drift around me until it soaked through, then reached for the shampoo.
I washed it twice, desperate to scrub out every bit of oil, dirt, and God knows what else.
Next, I smoothed on the conditioner over my scalp and let it sit while I washed my face. The water had grown warmer, or maybe I was just acclimating, but I let myself lean into the feel of it warming every crevice—a comfort I hadn’t felt since getting here.
My body was in climate shock, and I’d spent most of the last few days in the greenhouse where it was tropical, trying to overcompensate for the sudden cold.
I’d also been sneaking my phone out there, hoping to get a signal.
There was nothing; even roaming the property yielded no luck.
Didn’t he have a Starlink or some other internet?
How else did he stay in contact out here?
There had to be a way. I needed to keep looking around.
The only thing I’d seen that might be of use was between the kitchen and the bathroom up at the cabin.
There was something resembling a power bank with plugs and buttons and blinking lights, but I hadn’t yet decoded how to use it.
Everything was old and somewhat analog, and nothing screamed ‘Wi-Fi signal’ to me.
There was a laptop often sitting on the desk, plugged in, but without access to the password, it was useless. I’d tried.
Clementine would know how to crack it in seconds. I should have paid closer attention when she helped me hack into things. She made it look so easy.
Beside the charging station was another promising-looking cabinet, but it was locked.
I’d tried to pick it twice with no luck.
Without my lock pick set, finding anything small enough had proven a challenge.
He didn’t exactly keep hairpins handy, and despite thinking I had some in my purse, of course I did not.
I’d reached another dead end.
Huffing once and rocking my head against the edge of the tub, I scanned the shelves in the shed as I soaked, each shelf comically packed with junk and literal garbage.
Maybe I could find something out here to pick the lock while pretending to tidy up? Surely there’d be some sturdy wire, tiny saw blades, or anything else small enough to do the trick.
My finger idly traced across the surface of the water, parting the soapy mounds.
Another problem was my phone’s battery, which was dying fast. Each time I turned it on, the battery dropped a few percentage points.
The power bank was suspiciously void of charge cords, and there weren’t any in the drawers.
Knowing my luck, Gray locked them away in the cabinet.
The only other option I could think of was to venture further into the wilderness, but I was worried for obvious reasons.
I should have paid more attention while we were driving in.
We were perfectly safe in the daylight, and we hadn’t encountered dangerous wildlife, but leave it to me to end up stumbling upon a pack of rabid wolves or those pesky little Larry brethren while I was out on my own.
I could bring my taser, at least. It was still charged.
There was a cliffside off in the distance that I’d spotted a few times between the trees, beyond the river, maybe a half mile. If I were Gray, that’s where I’d put a satellite dish, if there were one. If not, maybe I could at least get higher and find a signal above the treeline.
The problem was the timing of this brief excursion of mine. Gray was always painfully present, hovering just out of view. Night offered the only chance, as he slept long enough to be distracted. However, that was impossible and admittedly stupid, even for me. Plus, his cot was right by the door.
Perhaps I could slip out during the day?
If I started cleaning the shed, maybe I could find a moment to slink off.
The more time I spent down here, the less frequently he’d check on me.
I could cross the river, take a quick look, and be back before he even realized I was gone.
Maybe there was even some climbing gear in his stash?
It looked like he had an entire mountaineering store out here on these shelves.
I was an experienced climber; I had to be with all the heists Nash and I performed every year.
We used to take lessons at a nearby gym in New York and often spent summers climbing on sibling trips into the mountains.
I even helped his wife learn a thing or two about the sport last fall when she’d begged to learn; she picked it up quickly.
A loud clunk and a rustle startled me out of my planning.
I sat up so fast that water sloshed out of the tub.
I glanced around the shed, trying to pinpoint where the noise had originated, but I saw nothing amiss.
It was probably just the logs settling in the fire.
They often did that in the cabin, and I’d grown used to the disturbance, but this sounded different.
It could just be the fact that it was a different style of stove than the one up there.
After a few minutes of quiet, I scanned the room one last time and leaned back, letting the water envelop me like armor. I sank until only my eyes and nose peeked out. Even though all appeared well, my trust in the world was fried, and my gaze continued to drift to the shadows and dark corners.
There was another clunk and a new rustling.
I nearly choked on bathwater.
Coughing up soap, I sat up. In the shed’s dimness, two points of light—like cat eyes—blinked to life in the far corner. Okay, there was definitely something there.
My thoughts whirled with possibilities. It couldn’t be Mr. Beans or Villainy, could it? Gray warned me daily to keep them inside. He said they wouldn’t last a day out here with the wild animals and could only go out on a leash.
The glowing eyes blinked, then shifted closer. They blinked again.
I blinked back, holding my breath.