Page 52 of Kylie

Chapter Twenty-Three

Thursday, July 7, 2022

Kylie

The sliver of sunlight had just landed on the window ledge when Martin returned the next morning. I watched it for a few minutes, willing it to move. And when that proved futile, I willed my mind to wander off to Travis or Gage, wanting one of them to be there for this conversation. Neither showed, but that wasn’t surprising. It was becoming more difficult to talk to them. Sometimes they would come, but I was pretty sure they were moving on with their lives, forgetting me.

“I brought you a gift,” he said, his tone chipper.

I stared up at him, unblinking.

Martin pulled a small white tube from his pocket. I had to assume it was the antibiotic cream. As he stood there, he fidgeted with it, never giving it to me.

I had expected that. After all, I wasn’t in a giving mood either.

Wanting him to leave so I could die in peace, I turned my attention back to the sliver of light. It blinked out a few times, which it tended to do in the morning. Since it was filtering in from between the leaves of the big oak tree outside, I could only assume there was a breeze. Too bad it wasn’t in here.

“I need you to call your mother,” Martin said.

My gaze snapped over to him, and I swore he shifted toward the door. I found it amusing that the man was still scared of me. I couldn’t peel myself off the floor, much less lunge at him. But if I could…

In my mind, I was most definitely lunging. I was also clawing his eyes out with my fingernails.

“You call your mother, tell her I’ll trade you for her.”

Holding his stare, I didn’t need to ask whether he meant that. He was lying. Even if he somehow knew my mother’s phone number, and I somehow managed to make my voice work long enough to speak, and I asked her for a favor, which I doubted she would grant me, no matter what, Martin Calloway was not going to let me out of this room.

He couldn’t.

Not at this point, anyway.

If I made my way back to civilization, people would want to know what happened. I would have to tell them I’d been imprisoned by a guy claiming to be an FBI agent. I still didn’t know if he was telling the truth about that. It was possible.

Once I told someone that he faked my death, kidnapped me, nursed me back to health, only to let me wither away in a smelly shit hole, someone would want to talk to him. How would he possibly explain this?

He wouldn’t.

Which meant he had no intention of letting me go.

And if I was going to die in this shit hole, I damn sure wasn’t doing anything for him.

“You promised, Kylie,” he said, his tone firm, his lips forming a thin line.

Oh, yeah. He was nearing his breaking point.

I stared, not speaking. I had nothing to say to him.

At first, I thought I had won this round. The color in his cheeks intensified briefly, forming a red patch under the bags beneath his eyes. But it began to fade as quickly as it started.

“Perhaps I should swing by your house and pick up Kate,” he said calmly.

My body jerked. It was an involuntary motion. Despite being on death’s doorstep, my motherly instincts were still as strong as they’d ever been.

“No.” Martin shook his head. “Actually, I think Avery would be better.” He cocked his head to the side and glared at me. “Would you like Avery to join you?”

I returned his glare.

“I wonder how long she’ll survive in here? Not as long as you have, I’m sure. But I’m almost positive you’ll die first. Then that sweet little girl will be forced to ride out her last days cuddled up to your corpse.”