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“You don’t believe him.”
“It’s not that. “His eyebrows tighten. “Okay, it is partly that.”
“You don’t like him, do you?”
“Not particularly, no. But there’s more. Something else.”
I say, “You’re in a hurry. I get that. Maybe you should be patient.”
I wonder if it’s just out of concern that he wants me to be better. He remembers me and he wants me back as I was. No, I think something more anxious is at work here.
“All three of you,” I say, “you’re on edge.”
“We’re protecting you.”
“Like, as in, protective custody? Or more like protecting an investment?“
”I wouldn’t put it like that.”
We lock eyes for a long moment.
“Okay, look,” I tell him, “It would be really nice if I could just wake up and get myself out of bed, showered and dressed in peace.”
He strides the last step to the bedside and now I really can’t breathe.
“Sorry,” he says.
“Peace and privacy,” I tell him with my arm waving like a sheet in a gale.
He stops. Lifts my chin with one finger. I tremble. I daren’t speak.
Arrogant sarcasm spreads from his eyes, all the way across his face.
The only way that I can resist slapping straight across his smug grin is by focussing on how hard his chin is and how much it would be bound to hurt my hand. Knowing for sure that he would catch my arm mid air is a factor, too. That would give him too good a chance to play with me and I really couldn’t bear that.
Especially not before I’ve even had a chance to get myself up.
I sit straight up and put my hands on my hips, waiting for him to find the decency to leave and give me some space.
He bursts out laughing. When I hurl the pillows at him, one after another, all it does is it makes him laugh even harder.
“Okay, little tiger cub. I’ll give you a couple of minutes while I get you some coffee and juice.”
“What time is it?” I ask him. “How long was I asleep?”
“Just now?” He asks, “Day and a night. Well, all night, then a day and a night. It’s actually morning now.” He’s still laughing. “You’ve got a chance to jump on the merry go round at a convenient entry point.”
As soon as the door closes, I remember to check the drawer by the bed. There it is. A Sig Sauer P226. Lifting it, a comfortable, familiar feeling of power and strength glows through me. The weight in my hand told me immediately that it’s fully loaded. I drop out the magazine to double check. I pull back the slide and check the chamber.
Lifting it with both hands at full extent, I lean my head to sight along the barrel.
With a sense of satisfaction and a more comfortable feeling of security, I silently replace the gun and slide the drawer shut.
Next I scoot to the windows. Starting from the near and of the wall, I look for switches to flip the total bronzed blackness to transparent. A plate of buttons and sliders on the wall have no labels on them. Trying them one by one, I get the curtains to slide open — just a couple of inches is enough — then shut. Then one slider sets the windows fading to clear. I quickly slip them back to black.
In the instant the glass was semi-transparent, I got a glimpse outside. There wasn’t much to see apart from nearby shrubs and bushes, and more distant trees.
I’m not too far up from the ground. About ten feet at most. The edges of the windows have catches. I can’t see a lock, though they could be electronic. Whatever, I won’t risk trying to open one until I’m ready to slip out. There’s too much chance of an alarm going off.
