Charity would see him on the camera. This place must have audio. He pounded on the wall. “Charity! Let me in!”
Seconds plodded by without an answer. What if she hadn’t been able to move the fridge? What if it was bolted to the wall? He might have inadvertently caused his own death.
“Charity, please!”
“What do you want?” Her terse voice came from a small speaker somewhere above him.
“Hurry, let me in.”
“Why?”
She’d be more likely to open the door if she thought he’d had a change of heart. “I want to come in and talk to you.”
“You can talk to me fine out there.” Still terse.
He scanned the area behind him. The men hadn’t found him yet, but he could hear them not far off, calling to each other. He lowered his voice. “Raiders are in the forest. I only got rid of them by dumping my food. They’ve got a loaded gun, and they’re searching for me.”
“Oh, so the something bad that would happen if you left happened toyou. That’s ironic.”
“Will you please let me in?”
“You just want more food.”
He glanced over his shoulder. The men hadn’t passed by the cave yet. “I promise I’ll stay with you for two weeks—until your family comes to pick us up.” Better to face Ben and his craziness than armed raiders. “Please, let me in.”
“You’re a government operative who’s already used and betrayed me. I’m not seeing a compelling reason to let you back in.”
“Maybe I’m supposed to father your baby. That’s compelling.”
No response.
Okay, he didn’t blame her for not believing that. Not after he’d told her he wouldn’t abandon a child of his. But still, he hadn’t thought she’d leave him out here to die.
A noise sounded outside the cave. Footsteps pushing through the brush toward the entrance. Time had run out. They were coming. He turned to face the forest, hand raised, gripping his knife. “Well sweetheart, at least you’ll get to watch an entertaining show.”
The cave wall creaked. Before he could check and see if the door had opened, he was pulled backward.
Charity had a hold of his backpack straps and tugged him inside. She shut the cave door behind them.
Relief washed over him. “Thank you,” he said. Her eyes were red from crying. He probably should’ve expected that. “Thank you,” he said again.
Without a word in response, she stomped down the stairs.
This was going to be such a long, uncomfortable two weeks.
He followed after her. “I still have the can opener, so there’s that.”
“We have a backup can opener. Not that you cared.” Her words were all frost and sting, emphasized by each fast footstep on the stairs. “Taking the can opener and making my food inaccessible for two weeks is technically hurting me. What were the terms of your oath? I think you have to quit your job and tell the other officers to arrest you for assault—wasn’t that it?”
“I left the fresh food. You could’ve eaten that. And besides, you’re resourceful enough to find a way to open a can.”
She strode through the bunker door, went inside the cabin, and turned to face him. “What about pretending you had feelings for me in order to steal my key and handcuff me? You don’t think that hurt me?” Her eyes blazed with accusation.
He held a hand out, trying to show her his position. He had, after all, been her prisoner. “The oath doesn’t cover hurt feelings. Those are subjective and therefore can’t be counted.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You would’ve never treated Kitra that way.”
His mouth opened and shut. She was seriously bringing up his old girlfriend right now. “Kitra never kidnapped me.”