Page 14

So I do her little. Small, sweet voice. Pip is a wren who sneaks out after the flock sleeps, and flies to the top of the tallest pine to see what the moon does when no one is around, and comes home before anyone knows. I read it in a voice one size too small, and Sarah corrects my owl once, and by page eleven her breathing has gone long and even and her hand is loose around the stuffed wren’s wing.

For one extra minute, I sit there watching a stranger’s child sleep.

Then I let myself out, and the hallway is empty.

No Nick at the hallway. No footsteps, nobody. The house has gone soft with morning quiet, and at the far end of the hall there’s a door with sidelights and sun coming through them. It leads outside.

To the woods, to a road eventually, to a moment where I call the police and then my brother.

I look at it for a while. It looks like the freedom the birds have, and Sarah doesn’t.

I could run. There’s that quarter-mile driveway. Long woods. Wrong shoes. All true, but none of it is the reason my feet aren’t leading me out of here.

I turn from the door and walk back to the office, and I hate that he’ll know that he was right about me and my curiosity that will get me killed one day. The truth is, it’s not just curiosity.

There’s a kid who needs me.

Lupo is behind the desk. He doesn’t look surprised to see me, which I expected, and something in me still wants to throw the letter opener at him for it.

“Terms,” I say. “Sit down and take notes, because I won’t repeat them.”

He sits. The cocky mouth stays shut. Noted, also.

“One. Whatever this is, wife, doctor, captive friend, my medical authority over that child is absolute. If I say she rests, she rests. If I say she goes to a hospital, we go, wherever we are, whoever’s watching. You can overrule me on anything on earth except her health. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Two. Ten times my annual salary. Half before we land. Half when I’m home.”

“Agreed.”

That fast. No flinch, no counter. Somewhere in my chest, the negotiator I should have been kicks the one I am.

“How long do you plan to be in Italy? I have a job and a life to get back to.”

“Shouldn’t be more than two weeks. I checked—you have enough leave to cover the time, and enough leeway at work to get away with a sudden Italian vacation.”

I sit back, glaring. “And how do you know that?”

“You do your research. I do mine.” Another non-answer.

“Fine.” I hold his eyes. “There will be no repeats of last night.”

And there it is, the amusement, curling the corner of his mouth into a wolfish smirk. It lights my fury like a match to a gas leak, because he’s lounging there entertained, a man reviewing a purchase.

Fuck that. “I am a doctor. Not a sex worker. That money does not buy my body, Lupo. If you try to force me, I will fight you, and you might win, but you’ll regret it. I promise you that.”

The amusement drops instantly from his face, his voice a frozen shard. “You believe I’d force you.”

Have I offended my kidnapper? Probably not the smart thing to do. But I’ve come this far, and I’m not going to lie to him. “I believe you’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want. And I want to be clear that I will make you wish you hadn’t.”

The room is colder for my honesty. He leans forward with his forearms on the desk. “Dr. Raines. I do not harm women. Not like that. There’s little on this earth I find more repulsive than a man who does.”

“That’s where you draw the line?”

“When I need something from someone, there’s a great deal on the table. Beatings. Burnings. The occasional skinning. I’ve been known to get more creative when the situation calls for it. But rape is never on the menu. Never. And if you ever feel threatened while you’re under my protection, by anyone, and I mean anyone, you come to me, and I will handle them. Creatively.” His eyes hold mine, flat and still. “Do I make myself clear?”

I can’t stop myself from asking, because this is where my brain got stuck. “You skinned a guy?”