He quickly shakes his head and removes a small camera from his pocket. “I had put a camera in there too.”
“You what?!?” My voice gets louder.
“I only had it there for the last two days we were working there.”
“And that makes it better how exactly? Hayden, are you listening to what you’re saying?”
“I think you’re missing the big picture here.”
“You’re nuts,” I say, brain foggy. “What the hell did you do to me? How did I get here, and why are you stalking me?”
“I wasn’t stalking you. I was worried it would be the only way I’d get to see you again. The last movies we’d ever have together.”
“Sneaking cameras into my dressing room isn’t making movies, Hayden. This is all insane, and you still haven’t answered my other questions.” What about the other times he filmed me without my consent? Why am I not bringing those up? I should’ve had a restraining order out on this guy already. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if I did. My chest forms a lump at that thought. At Hayden unable to reach me at all. Keeping us permanently apart.
“I’m sorry, but you were being stubborn and I had to take action. What I injected into your neck will wear off in another hour or so. It wasn’t meant to hurt you. I wouldn’t hurt you. I’ve told you that. Only you get to hurt me, remember?”
My stomach flips and I’m unable to process all the thoughts swarming in my head. They’re as unhinged as everything he’s saying. This isn’t a declaration of love, this is someDatelineshit. “You drugged me, Hayden. You kidnapped me. Those are crimes. You can’t really think those were your only solutions. You could have left the video on my doorstep or something.”
“You need better security than what you have. You’re always too trusting of your environment.”
“Clearly,” I say on a huff. “You were able to get to me too easily.”
“Yes, because you wanted me to.”
“What?” Did I? After watching all the videos I took from his house, I did find myself looking outside my window a lot, searching for his camera. I’d fake sleeping, listening for creaks on the floor or the door. When my sister wanted to have a sleepover, I turned down the offer because I kept thinking in the back of my head, “What if her being here scares him off.”
I don’t know what’s worse, him kidnapping me to prove his innocence or me still wanting him after knowing what he did before.
“What are you thinking about?” He crouches beside me, stroking my cheek.
“Why did you bring me here, Hayden?”
He lets out a gentle breath. “I told you why.”
“No. You only told me part of why. You haven’t told me the main reason.” My voice sounds pained.
“Because, baby, you keep getting in your own way, and I had to help get you back on the right track again.”
“You’re psychotic,” I say.
He laughs, shaking his head. “You feel that way now, but you won’t always. I made you see reason before, and I can do it again.”
“The only one who needs to see reason here is you.” I jab my finger into his shoulder, and when he reaches for my hand, I shove him away.
“I want to go home,” I say, folding my arms in front of my chest.
“You are home.”
Something vibrates in my chest. I no longer know if it’s a good feeling or a bad one. “This looks nothing like my house. It can’t be.” I study the walls again.
“I didn’t say it was your house. I said it was your home. Because I’m your home and you’re mine.”
“I don’t know whatever sick fantasy you’ve fabricated in your head, but what makes you think that’s what I want?”
“Because you want a lot more than you’re willing to admit out loud. Tell me what’s in that head of yours?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking out my own thoughts. He’s not right. I can’t want this. I can’t still want him. In what world does a normal person want this? That’s the thing, though, isn’t it? I haven’t met the requirements of normality in a long time. He’s right about me not vocalizing everything I want. It doesn’t mean I should. Everyone has intrusive thoughts, but most people don’t act on them.