Tabula Rasa(52)

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I don’t know. You’re mad!”

“I’m not mad. Goodbye.”

“Bye.” But I’d already heard the connection go dead before I said it.

As soon as I hung up, I did what he’d asked. No matter how paranoid I thought his caution was. Though maybe it wasn’t over the top. He did kill people for a living. One didn’t exactly want to leave a trail of bread crumbs behind them while doing that. I wasn’t sure there was any level of paranoia that was too much under those conditions.

I stared at the phone sitting on the bed with its guts spilled out. At least his mother couldn’t call back again. I didn’t want to have to start coming up with excuses for why Shannon wasn’t there to take her call. I didn’t know what he’d told her as his cover story for what he did now, and if she thought he traveled for business. Maybe she thought he worked in an office somewhere now.

As I stared at the phone, I finally realized what I had. A link to the outside world and plenty of time to utilize it. I could call for help. I could get away from Shannon if I really wanted to. The trouble was, I didn’t want to.

And while I still didn’t want to deal with the police and a million questions, the idea of such a thing didn’t seem as traumatic with my memories back in their proper storage lockers in my brain. I just... didn’t want to go. Shannon’s house was a clean, safe cocoon from which I wasn’t ready to emerge—even if Shannon’s emotional range left something to be desired.

I crossed to the balcony and, without thinking, opened the door and stepped outside. Winter in southern Georgia was pretty mild, unless this year was a fluke. I didn’t know. It was my first Georgia winter. I actually stood for a good five minutes breathing in the crisp morning air before it suddenly occurred to me that Shannon hadn’t armed the balcony door. The main door, the back door, and every single window was always armed, but almost never the balcony door. Shannon liked to go out there a lot and didn’t want to bother inputting the code to get in and out each time.

I wondered if he’d forgotten about it in his rush out the door. Surely he normally armed it when he’d left me in the house all those times. But today, for whatever reason, it was unarmed. The wheels in my head started turning. Was this a test? It had to be a test. Or he doesn’t want you. He’s dismissing you from his life, you little idiot. If you don’t leave while you have the chance, he might just kill you and dump your body off with his buddy at the crematorium when he gets back.

I know people can make mistakes, but Shannon... Shannon was the most precise person I’d ever met. He had a system for everything. He had a protocol for everything. He covered every single track he left no matter how minor or discreet. Shannon didn’t do mistakes like this. If he did, he’d be sitting in a prison cell right now.

All I could conclude from this was that he’d purposefully left me a phone and an exit. The insecure schoolgirl part of me thought he was tired of me, done with me, and instead of tying up the loose end, he’d decided to give me a chance and let me go while he wasn’t looking. But then... the way he’d looked at me, even this morning. It was impossible to think something that intense could fade so quickly to casual disinterest.

Or at least this was what I told myself. Maybe f*cking me after knowing ugly parts of my history was somehow less satisfying to him. He’d left so quickly afterward. What did that even mean? What else could it mean but that he’d wanted to get away from me?

But despite my negative inner monologue, I knew he wouldn’t release somebody who could destroy his neat, minimalist life. And I didn’t think Shannon could even pretend to be the noble type who would let me go because it was the right thing to do. Shannon didn’t give a shit about the right thing beyond the basic desire to keep his life as uncomplicated as possible. If someone or something got in his way, I was sure he would take care of it, and there were few if any laws or appeals to reason and morals that would sway him. He may not have killed an innocent yet, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t or couldn’t. If I pushed beyond my fears and insecurity, I just didn’t believe he intended to let me go.

So that only left one option. It was a test. He wanted to see what I would do with the temptation of freedom. Would I try to escape? Fuck no, I wouldn’t. Even if I hadn’t grown stupidly attached to this man, no way in hell would I run. I had no doubts that Shannon could track me anywhere. He’d built that dossier on me, after all. And it hadn’t seemed too difficult for him to map out my whole existence. The news stories were months ago. I had no idea how he’d managed to piece it all together so quickly and easily, but clearly he had.

Before my memories had started coming back, I could have said that he’d simply invented much of the dossier, but that was no longer true. And either way, he couldn’t invent my fluency in French. I’d planned to move to Paris before the accident had landed me in the hospital under Trevor’s care. I’d decided there was no future for me left here, and not enough people I cared about to warrant my staying. I’d known Trevor was dangerous. And I’d had the money to get far enough away from him that he would no longer be a threat. I did have friends in France.

I’d wanted a new start. I just made the mistake of telling Trevor that. It had slipped out because I couldn’t resist the urge to let him know just how little control he had over me or my life. He’d manufactured this story in his head about how our life would go, how we’d get married and live happily ever after—us against the world. It hadn’t initially occurred to him that I actually could escape him, that I had the means and ability to be free. I didn’t need him.