But it’s fine. It’s back in place. I will escape him, as soon as I figure out how.
Eli leaves me alone after breakfast. I spend the morning on the sofa, reading the latest book in my series. Yes, the series Eli bought me. I can’t help that he has good taste in reading material.
At lunch, he doesn’t materialise and I can’t help but wonder if this is my chance.
I tiptoe to the doorway of the living room, scanning left and right. Nothing. The door is so close I could quietlyunlock it, then run. I could go to the police. Tell them he kidnapped me. Though, some part of me doesn’t want to do that.
I take one step in the front door's direction when I hear Graham’s soft meow from upstairs.
Damn it.
Graham.
I can’t leave him. Not again.
It’s still quiet, no sign of Eli, so I creep towards the stairs. My heart staccatos against my ribs, blood roaring in my ears as I take the first step. This is it. Get Graham, then get out.
I can buy new clothes. A new phone. I just need to get him and get back to the door without Eli noticing.
“Umph!”
My head hits a solid wall. Of muscle.
“Fuck!”
“Careful, Angel,” Eli mutters, grasping hold of my arms to steady me.
Tears threaten to burn behind my eyes as my dream of escape is dashed, but I hold them back.
“Where were you going?” Eli asks, steering me back down the stairs and into the kitchen.
I gulp. “To find you.” I force brightness into my tone.
Eli smiles, clearly pleased by my words. “Well, here I am, Angel. Your personal chef for lunch.”
I laugh through my teeth.
“I’m making sandwiches—do you want hot or cold?”
“Hot, please.” I don’t understand people that prefer cold.
“Chicken, bacon, and barbeque sauce okay?”
“Sounds great. Can I have cheese too?”
“You can have anything you want.”Except freedom.
I take a seat at the table.
Eli’s phone is lying on it. It’s right there. I could call someone—anyone.
My fingers tap against the table, debating.
It rings.
I jolt.
Eli pauses what he’s doing.