Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Getting woken up by a dog punching me in the chest was not on my radar for how the morning might start.
I gasp and arch upright as Pearl stands on my lap, her whole body wagging happily while I wheeze and try to remember how to breathe. For her part, the Rottweiler mix licks my face voraciously, obviously trying to assist me while I struggle to get oxygen into my abused lungs.
It takes a minute to convince myself last night wasn’t a dream, and my hands smooth over Pearl’s ears, though I’m careful of the stitched one, as I mentally replay my explorations in my head, trying to figure out if there’s anything I missed or somewhere I hadn’t gone.
Well, except for the basement. But the thought of being down there willingly has the hairs on my arms standing up, and I figure that is absolutely a worst-case scenario. In fact, the only worse plan I have than that is jumping out a window and hoping I don’t die from getting stabbed by the glass.
“Hey pretty girl,” I greet, finally focusing on the dog in my lap.
She’s a bit big to be sitting on me, but I’m certainly not going to complain.
“How are you feeling, huh? Did you get to eat sometime recently?” Obviously she doesn’t answer, but judging by the way she isn’t trying to snack on my rubbed-raw hands or gnaw my face off, I can only assume she’s been well fed.
Noise from downstairs and the sound of voices make me jump a little, and that breaks the nice, almost peaceful moment I’m having.
Fear comes back to me, along with a rush of embarrassment from the night before.
I’m not a voyeur. But there I was, watching two men in bed together. Worse than that, watching my kidnappers in bed together. Though, I tell myself, I was paralyzed by the shock of it and nothing more. That’s why I stayed to watch. No other reason whatsoever.
Yeah, right, that cynical voice in my head whispers, popping up at an awful time like always. You’re lying to yourself if you think curiosity wasn’t in play, Sadie-Rae.
“Oh, fuck off,” I whisper to that part of my brain, and I carefully extract myself from under Pearl’s bulk. “Not you,” I assure her, though she hadn’t looked particularly offended by it, anyway.
Still barefoot, I go to the door and pull it the rest of the way open, though today I’m less surprised to find it unlocked as I had been before.
While it’s my plan to creep out, much like I have the last couple of times I made my escape attempts, Pearl isn’t in on the plan.
She walks out easily, comfortably, like she knows this place and has claimed it as her own.
There’s nothing subtle about how she sniffs around the hallway, though with the doors to the other rooms closed, she can’t do more than snuffle loudly in the corners before snorting and heading for the stairs like she’s bored with this level in the house.
After running to the bathroom to have a mini existential crisis and stare at my tired-looking reflection in the mirror, I follow her, unsure of what else to do. I’m out of ideas for the moment, and I’m trying to keep panic off the table.
Following Pearl isn’t the worst thing I’ve done lately, and probably not the dumbest. She leads me through the bottom level, sniffing around the living room, though I have to rescue the television remote from her questing nose and pick up a charger after she drops it.
Her next stop is the back hallway, where she whines a little at the door, though I’m not about to let her outside.
I don’t know what’s going on, why she’s in the house, or what might get both of us shot.
But luckily, her insistence on going back outside fades as soon as she hears footsteps coming from the dining room.
Unthinkingly, I follow her, not considering that this is the last place I want to be. But then I’m standing in the doorway and looking at Fox while he scrolls on his phone and eats a plate of eggs.
“Hey,” he greets without looking up, like it’s a foregone conclusion I’d come down here during his breakfast. “Pull up a chair.” He gestures to the one in front of me, across the short side of the dining table from where he’s sitting.
But I just stare at it, examining the place that’s set as though he’s been waiting for someone.
Like he’s been waiting for me.
“I figured Pearl would get you up and down here,” he goes on, not seeming to care that I haven’t said anything. “Pretty hard to sleep through eighty pounds of mutt, huh?”
Carefully, like I’m afraid this is some kind of trap, I pull out the chair across from him and sit. Fox wastes no time when I do, and in less than a minute, the plate in front of me is piled high with eggs, bacon, and four slices of toast.
The smell hits me and makes my mouth literally water, putting me on autopilot. I barely register any conscious thought before I’ve got a forkful of eggs in my mouth, and I’m pretty sure I don’t even taste them before I’m swallowing and wedging an entire slice of toast between my lips.
It isn’t until that’s gone too that I look up to meet Fox’s eyes.
Embarrassment makes me hesitate, but he only smiles and sits back, toasting me with his coffee mug.
“Don’t stop on my account. I think you’re adorable.
And I feel bad for not feeding you yesterday,” he admits.
“Deacon said he threw you a few apples, but that’s not nearly enough. ”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I choose silence. Two more pieces of toast disappear down my throat, along with all the bacon and most of the eggs. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, and whoever cooked this really deserves their own restaurant.
Finally, when the hunger headache I hadn’t realized existed is fading and my stomach is overly full, I’m able to sit back, fiddling with the glass of water with my fingertips.
Condensation makes the glass slick, and I look down at it, watching my fingers trace lines in the sides of the semi-transparent surface in lieu of meeting Fox’s gaze again.
“I want to go home,” I say finally, my voice soft. Still, the words are strong enough to carry across the table, though Fox doesn’t react. He doesn’t even glance up from his phone, I realize, when I risk a look up at him.
“I want to go home,” I say again, though some of the edge is gone from my voice. Pearl shifts on the floor beside me, mouth open as she pants in a relaxed, content manner.
“Nashville, right?” At my startled look, Fox gives me an almost apologetic smile. “We found all your IDs and personal stuff at the auto shop. Your phones too. What were you down here for, anyway?”
I swallow, my throat working around the lump in my throat as I fight not to tremble.
“A concert,” I say, and it sounds stupid now.
It also feels so, so far away, like the concert is on another planet instead of just a few hours away on the other side of Texas.
“Some band in Dallas. It was just this stupid road trip. Tyler’s idea, and…
” I trail off, shaking my head. “I just want to go home.”
“What are you going to tell them?” At my shocked look, Fox just takes another swallow of his coffee before setting down the mug.
Now all of his attention is on my face, and I find it a bit intimidating to have this much of his focus.
“If you go home, what will you tell everyone? How will you explain what happened?” He tilts his head to the side, visibly thinking.
“Did it ever occur to you that you’ll be the prime suspect in your friends’ disappearances? ”
“What?” I breathe softly. My eyes dip to my empty plate, and the food feels heavy in my stomach. “No, I-I didn’t do it.” I hate the way my voice trembles in my chest, and how an invisible fist grips my heart. “I tried to save them.”
“And your witness to the crime is a dog,” Fox agrees benevolently.
“You were there.” I throw the words at him like an attack, but Fox just looks at me with his eyes slightly narrowed in a way that makes me want to take back the accusation. “N-no I just meant you were there to see me. You could tell the cops—”
His snort is quick and sharp, but his smile turns apologetic.
“No, I’m sorry. That was rude of me, wasn’t it?
Little rabbit, I’m not tellin’ the cops anything.
” The way he just beams at me like we’re having an easy, casual discussion makes me want to vomit.
“And without bodies, DNA, or anything else…” He rolls his shoulders in a tired shrug.
“Do you even know where that auto shop was?”
Timidly, I shake my head, my hands falling to my lap. “No, but I—”
“What it was called?”
Again I shake my head, feeling like a child.
“Or, say, what county you were in? How far from our house—”
“You drugged me!” I grab the edge of the table and shove to my feet, causing Pearl to bolt upright as well, though she seems more startled than threatening. “I didn’t want to come here!” As I rant, Fox sips at his coffee, though he still grants me his full attention. “I want to go home!”
“So you’re going to yell at me about it?” He watches as the chair I shoved backward finally topples over, almost in slow motion, before dragging his eyes up to mine and looking like a disappointed preschool teacher.
Without even really realizing it, I’m kneeling down to pick up the chair. I barely manage to stifle the polite apology on my lips, and I can’t even shove the chair under the table, no matter how much I want to.