“Okay.” He holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just tell the front desk to charge it to my account.”
I turn towards the elevators, and Luke takes a step towards me.
“Don’t follow me, Luke,” I warn him. “Not tonight.”
For once, he listens.
I ride the elevator down to reception and check into a new room on a different floor under Luke’s account. It is quiet and simple.
I lock the deadbolt behind me and turn the shower to scalding hot, stripping off my clothes before stepping into the spray. I stay there until it goes cold. Until my eyes are red and my skin is raw, and my feelings are numb.
I’m exhausted when I brush my hair and put on some face cream. I’m bare. Naked- emotionally and physically. I don’t know how long I stand there staring at myself in the mirror. Hating the reflection of the person staring back at me. Wishing that girl never had any aspirations at all. Wondering if what they say about her is true. Wondering if her father is still alive. If anything will ever be good again.
I snag a pair of shorts and a tank top from my bag and pull them on before dragging myself to the bed.
I may not be able to count on the power in the building going out, but I welcome the blackness that sleep will provide.
Chapter Seven
River bitesinto his apple and peers at me over the shiny red skin, chewing silently while he thinks loudly. He is seeking out signs of weakness in my eyes.
“Any word yet?” he asks.
“There is no need for pointless conversation,” I tell him. “If I’d had any word, you would already know.”
He shrugs. Takes another bite of his apple.
“Well, perhaps this is all by design then,” he muses.
“What do you mean?”
“Perhaps there are more enemies in the woodwork.”
“Again,” I tell him. “This is something I’ve already considered.”
“Yes.” He leans back in the chair and props his foot up on his leg. “Perhaps there are many, in fact. We can never really know for sure, can we?”
He smirks, and I do not indulge him with a reaction. Psychological warfare is River’s favorite leisure time activity. Usually, he can entertain himself for hours with subjects less intelligent than him. But that has never been the case with me.
“I’m going to move soon,” I assure him.
He shrugs again. Finishes off his apple.
“I didn’t even mention her.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Maybe you have nothing to worry about,” he says. “Maybe they won’t come after her.”
“Your games don’t work on me,” I tell him.
But he is grinning because I am reacting as I told myself I wouldn’t.
River reads me too well, sometimes. He knows I’ve been putting it off. But he doesn’t know why, and he’s made it his mission to get to the bottom of it.
“All I’m saying is that it seems you’ve moved on,” he says. “It’s like you don’t even remember the cage. It’s like you don’t even remember the animal they turned you into.”
One single word.