Predator - A Stand Alone Suspense Romance(12)

I go to the bathroom, not closing the door all the way. When I’m done relieving myself, I wash my hands, and then my eyes settle on the mirror. It’s out of habit.

Damian always tells me not to look at myself so I expected it to look bad, but the thing staring back at me can’t possibly be me.

I lift my hand to my cheek and gently press the pads of my fingers to the ugly burn. He’s been taking care of my wounds, too, so I never had a need to look.

“I told you not to look,” Damian snaps, almost giving me a heart attack. I yank my hand away from my face. “Come eat.”

I walk to the bed and sit down. I take the paper bag and open it but then I just stare at the sandwich.

My throat swells impossibly thick with unshed tears and my breaths start to race over my parted lips.

I can’t deal with what I just saw in the mirror. It’s not that I’m black and blue, but rather the stark reminder of my time in the container that’s dragging me under.

I fight to keep control of the volcano that’s threatening to erupt inside of me. I sit for a long while just staring at the food before I finally reach into the bag. I eat and sleep, because that’s all I can deal with.





We’ve been staying in the room for four days now. He locks the door when he goes for food and he’s never gone for long. He reads a lot. I don’t ask what.

The TV is always on, murmuring in the background. I don’t ask where we are. I ask him nothing and he says nothing. He’s just there to bring me food and tend to my wounds, and for now I’m happy with that. I don’t think I have it in me to do anything more than the absolute basics.

“Morning, Cara,” Damian breaks the silence on the fifth morning. He sounds different. His voice is deeper and the neutral tone he has been using is gone. I open my eyes and glance up at him. It’s too early for anything.

“Get up. Dress yourself. We are going home.” All short sentences so I can’t miss a word.

“What?” I ask anyway.

I have not once looked at his face since the first day in the bathroom. I think it’s the way he wants it, too.

Today, my eyes have a mind of their own and they find his. I remember dead gray eyes. That’s why I’ve been avoiding his face, plus it made the past week easier. They’re still gray, but it looks like there’s a storm brewing in them, something deadly, penetrating and sharp.

I’m scared he can see too much and I drop mine to his neck. A tattoo peeks from the neckline of his shirt. It almost looks like some sort of claw as it slips away into his charcoal shirt.

Then he leans down, resting a hand on either side of my shoulders. My heart stops and I can’t even breathe as I wait for him to make his move.

“It’s time to go. You’re better now. It’s time for you to get on your feet and deal with all the shit that happened.” He says it so callously as if it’s the easiest thing to do.

When he pulls away, I quickly push myself up, not wanting to be cornered like that again. He picks up a bag off the floor. I watch him leave the room, not sure how I feel about leaving this room to go ‘home’ with this man. I’m not sure about anything anymore.

I quickly go to the bathroom. I don’t know where we’re going and when I’ll get to use one again.

I wash my hands and avoid the mirror this time. I walk out into the sleeping area and wait, unsure if I should just go outside.

I wring my hands together and wonder what would happen if I tried to make a run for it. I know he said Uncle Tom sent him, but that doesn’t mean much. He could be one of them, babysitting me until Uncle Tom shows up, and then they kill the both of us. It could be a trap.

Panic starts to build up in me as one dark thought after the other flashes through my mind.

Damian comes back into the room and then he walks right at me. My mind screams at me to move but I freeze like a deer in front of an oncoming truck. He lifts his hands and I flinch, but then I see the sweater. He pulls it over my head and I quickly shove my arms through the sleeves. He takes hold of the hoodie and he covers my head.

“You keep your head down out there. There’s no one outside. It’s a two hour drive home. Don’t even look out the window. It will be better if you just try and sleep all the way home.” He takes hold of my chin and lifts my face to his. My eyes jump to his. “After today this is all over. You get to disappear.”

I swallow. I’m not sure I understand.

“We just need to blend in as best we can so no one looks at us. Almost home.” His mouth twitches at the corner and then he lets go of my chin and he moves to the bed. He grabs a pair of flip flops from the floor. I didn’t even see them there. He walks back to me and then crouches in front of me. “Foot,” he snaps. I lift my left foot and I have to grab for his shoulder so that I don’t fall over. He slips the flip flop onto my foot, and then I quickly slip my right foot into the one he left on the floor, before he can pick it up. I let go of his shoulder and move away from him, my pulse racing from having to touch him. I don’t think there will ever come a time that I’ll trust another human being or feel safe again.

He rises to his full length and then he starts to strip the blankets and sheets from both beds. I watch him wipe the room – everywhere and with such precision it’s scary. I don’t move as he moves through the room and bathroom three times. Shit, this guy is meticulous. He’s making sure we leave nothing behind. “Let’s go,” he snaps once he’s happy with the job he’s done cleaning the room.