- Chapter Nine -
Georgia Mary King
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His abrupt exit gave me the chance I needed to remove the jagged piece of mirror. Crouching, I decided to hide it between the wall and the right leg of the bed frame. I could reach it easily there.
Sitting on the bare mattress, I hugged myself, shivering. He'd left me with my flats and my panties; that was all. No bra, not even the dumb flesh-colored pasties. Not that being naked should have mattered... but after seeing Conway's reaction to touching me, it did.
Shutting my eyes, I relived the encounter. His stare had been shining with lust... with greed... and all of it was meant for me. The desire we'd had for each other as teenagers was a ghost in comparison. It worried me.
It excited me.
Gliding a hand upwards, I palmed the back of my neck. It was good that he saw this. It made him leave. Who knows how far we would have gone. Or how far I'd have wanted him to.
Stop being so ridiculous, I warned myself. If he's attracted to you, good. You'll use it against him. Don't be flattered by it. Don't you dare start desiring him. Conway meant me harm, I needed to remember that.
And Lonnie... holy hell. I didn't expect to see him working with Conway. Last I knew, they didn't get along. Whatever was going on, their father had to be the glue between them. It really was like old times.
Back then I'd escaped because Conway had helped me. He wasn't going to save me a second time.
I had to believe someone outside this island would be looking for me. Chelsea will. She'll go to the police. Conway might be right about no one seeing him at the party, but the guy who'd tried to rape me in the guesthouse would remember being attacked.
Had he seen Conway's face?
Could he recall what he was wearing?
It was messed up that I had to pray my would-be rapist would talk to Chelsea or the cops, helping them form a pathway to finding me. But I didn't have the luxury to wish for heroes with pure hearts.
Whoever knocked my door down and brought me home was good enough for me.
Because whatever happened... I wasn't going to give up.
****
“Georgia.”
My eyes snapped open. I'd fallen asleep with the lights on. Conway was standing by the door, dressed in midnight blue jeans and his brown jacket. He looked—fresh. His stubble was cleaned-up. He'd taken a shower and shaved. The wicked tension that had strung between us was gone; he was back to wearing his mask.
Covering my chest, I sat up, glaring his way. Did he see me? Did he look? “What time is it?”
“Breakfast time.” I hadn't noticed the paper bag in his left hand. He tossed it towards me; it landed softly on the end of my bed. “Get changed.”
Warily, I peeked into the bag. There was a pair of black yoga pants and a loose white sweatshirt. No bra or new underwear, though. Facing away from him, I stuck my head through the sweater's neck hole. “Are you here to tease me about food, starve me like good ol' daddy did?”
“We're going on a walk.”
Suspicion made me move slower. I took my time getting the pants on, trying to see if he was leering at my body. Conway hadn't stopped watching me, but his expression was unreadable. “A walk to where?”
He opened the door, motioning me out. Fear skittered up my spine, but I was eager to get out of this room. Following him, I walked a half-foot behind, trailing him down the hallway. Instead of going towards the front door, he led me down another route.
I saved my questions, unsure how many he'd even answer. I'd find out where we were going regardless of if I stayed quiet.
Conway stepped down into a small mudroom. Opening the door, he went through. I could see the milky-gray sky behind him. With my pulse going erratic, I walked out into the open air. I hadn't expected him to let me leave the house.
Shielding my face from my hair in the wind, I looked around quickly. There wasn't much to see. Other than a few sparse trees, the island was just rocks and flat gravel. It couldn't be more than half a mile across, if not less.
“This way,” he called, waiting for me.
Can I run? I wondered, starting after him on hesitant legs. If I do it when he isn't ready for it, maybe I can get to the docks. But without his key... how do I get a boat?
I pulled up next to Conway where he'd stopped. We stood at the edge of the cliff, waves punching into jagged rocks before disintegrating. Straight below us was the clearest section of ocean. But it was deep—too deep to see what was underneath the rolling surface.
Sand scraped under his heel. His shadow fell over me. “Trying to swim from here to the mainland would be foolish. The rocks will slice you to the bone, if you don't drown first.”
He was making it plain that tying me up wasn't necessary. Not here. A barbed wire topped fence blocked me from the docks, and this side of the island was a natural barrier. Deflated, I shook my head in dismay. “Why are you doing this, Conway? Why won't you tell me what's really going on?”
“Because there's nothing to tell.”
“Nothing?” I faced him, throwing my arm out towards the house. “You kidnap me, drag me to this hell hole, put me within reach of your brother, a person you risked everything to get me away from before, and you think there's nothing to tell? Fuck that!” I buried my hands in the front of my sweater, needing to grab something solid to make up for how fragmented I'd become. “How can you stand there and silently watch me suffer?”
His head lowered. “You won't like the answer.”
“I still want it!”
“Because I don't care about you,” he said, each word acid from his tongue. “Stop thinking I ever did.”
My mouth fell open. “Conway...”
“All that I gained from our time together as kids was learning what made you tick. How to hurt you in ways no one else could manage.” The glossiness in his eyes gave him a plastic look. This man was empty of all love for me.
Or that was what he wanted me to think.
The wind that danced across the cliffside pawed at the back of my sweater. Turning, I surveyed the water that undulated below. “You really don't care about me?” I whispered.
“No. Not at all.”
My lashes touched the apples of my cheeks. “Let's find out for sure.”
And I jumped.