I answer casually, “I’ll take Gabby on a ride when she gets too restless. The bike will make her jumpy. Good idea to desensitize her.”
He drops the sex subject and I’m grateful.
“Good idea,” Ethan says.
Amanda returns with a stack of clothing and a concerned look on her face.
“What’s a good idea?” she asks us.
Ethan gives me a warning look. “Nothing, baby,” he says. “Have I told you how good your butt looks in those work pants yet?”
“Ethan!” Amanda scolds him. “Please, be appropriate. Isaac, here are some options for Gabby including an unopened package of underwear that I impulse bought at Costco last week. I swear, I’m psychic.”
“That’s an interesting way to sound out shopaholic…” Ethan mutters.
Amanda gives him a warning look this time. Ethan clears his throat. “Want me to make waffles, baby?”
“That would be nice, Ethan.”
“I’ll take the clothes down to Gabby. I’m sure she would like some waffles too.”
Amanda smirks at Ethan. “I like the idea of you making breakfast for everybody before work. I’m starving.”
Chapter Fourteen
Gabby
Ihave breakfast upstairs with Isaac and our hosts – Ethan and Amanda. There’s awkward tension like we’re implicitly a couple because of Ethan and Amanda, but I don’t want to entertain those feelings with Isaac. The awkwardness doesn’t get better because Amanda doesn’t stay for very long. She takes the baby out for an early morning appointment after eating barely half of a waffle. I am starving, so there’s no way in hell I’ll be eating a dainty half-waffle before heading back downstairs. Isaac and I are on the same page in terms of hunger, but with Amanda gone, the men are disturbingly silent.
They’re like musky, grunting beasts, piling their plates high with waffles and then adding more toppings than I knew people could tolerate on their breakfast. Bananas, chocolate chips, walnuts, coconut flakes, syrup… apparently neither of these men over forty have concerns about their blood sugar.
I’m too busy eating twice my normal helping of waffles to complain. I drench mine in the simple combination of butter and maple syrup and savor every bite. Isaac provides a filled mugof coffee with enough cream to cut some of the bitterness away. It’s the first time since I watched him murder somebody in front of me that I’ve felt remotely calm.
Maybe the cops aren’t going to drag him away. Maybe I’m safe here. It’s not like they live in the hood – which surprises me. I thought criminals were part of this grungy, seedy underworld that smelled like alley piss and beer. I could never hope to afford a place like this in Boston myself no matter how hard I worked.
When we’re done eating, Ethan grunts something incomprehensible to Isaac, who appears to understand whatever code they’re speaking in, and I’m alone with Isaac again. He ushers me to the apartment downstairs and then tells me that he wants to put on a baking show. If this is some desperate attempt to turn my captivity into ‘Netflix & chill’, this man has lost his mind. I sit on the arm of the couch with my arms folded while Isaac spreads out on the couch.
He lets me watch an entire episode from my position before he says anything.
“Don’t you want to get more comfortable?” Isaac asks me. I look over at him, avoiding eye contact with his strangely soulful eyes. I like his brown eyes. They’re a little lighter than mine and remind me of a fall sunset, which makes them very dangerous to gaze into at all, because those aren’t the types of thoughts I need to be having about Isaac. A married man.
“No. I’m fine.”
Isaac sighs and sits up, giving me a skeptical look.
He leans forward, getting close enough that I can smell his deodorant. The pine and woody balsam scent makes me wantto bury my nose in his chest instead of pushing him away. Isaac’s low commanding voice only makes it worse. “Fine. What if I take you out for a bit?”
Thatinterests me. Not just his scent this time, but the prospects of leaving this former sex dungeon, where anything might erupt between us and change the circumstances.
“What, aren’t you afraid that I’m going to scream for the cops the second I get outside?” I’m mocking him, but maybe I should strongly consider that option over going along with everything Isaac wants from me.
“If you did that, we would both end up in prison. I’ve got money for lawyers, I don’t know if you can say the same.”
“How do you have money?” I say to him haughtily. “Since I met you all you’ve done is commit crimes and lie on the couch.”
Isaac laughs. “Ever heard of sabbatical?”
“Is that what we’re calling unemployment now?”