Just before that light disappears into the trees, the wind clears the moon, and I see that it’s Damian.
He looks up at the same time. I think he means to look at the moon, but I swear even from this distance his eyes meet mine, and he stops.
I can’t move. Can’t hide.
He stays where he is for a moment, then, just as clouds obscure the moon again, he disappears into the thicket of trees.
It’s so still I wonder if I didn’t imagine what just happened because it’s pitch-black out there. What would he be doing in the woods so late at night?
I shake my head and go into the bathroom to get a drink of water. I notice his sweater then, discarded on the rack. I pick it up. The wool is soft. Highest quality stuff. My uncle had many pieces like this. I recognize the designer’s label.
For reasons I can’t explain, I bring it to my nose and inhale his scent. Instantly, my body has a physical reaction to that smell. It takes me right back to when we were on the bed. Back to his dark eyes on me. To his hand between my legs.
Because I should have been repulsed by it. By his touch.
But I wasn’t. I was wet.
I drop the sweater as if it were burning me. What the fuck is wrong with me? I hate him. That’s all I need to think or feel as far as anything having to do with Damian Di Santo.
I walk back into my bedroom and get into the bed. My stomach growls angrily. Water won’t satisfy it, but I have no choice. Will he really not feed me until dinnertime tomorrow?
Leaving the light on, I close my eyes. I fight every single thought of him, every image. I banish them and him to hell because that is where he belongs.* * *After showering the following morning, I push the heavy leather armchair in front of the window to sit and wait. My stomach hurts from lack of food.
I try to think about people who have it worse than me. People for whom starvation is a part of daily life. I can’t feel sorry for myself. I’ve had more than most growing up. I’ve also lost more than most.
I fail to focus on more honorable thoughts. I’m hungry and I’m selfish, I guess. Or spoiled and weak. Probably all of the above.
Rain falls in intervals from heavy to light. Every now and again, the sun breaks through the cover of clouds, all the while, a dense fog hangs over the forest and mountain.
I think about last night. About seeing him out there. Again, I wonder if it was my imagination. Am I going to lose my mind being locked up in here?
In the afternoon, I take a book from the cave-like study room and sit on the bed to read. I must doze off, though, because when I open my eyes again, it’s to the sound of the key turning in the lock.
Disoriented, I rub my eyes and straighten up. The book is lying face-down beside me, and the only light is coming in from the moon outside.
The door opens as I reach to switch on the lamp beside the bed.
Damian enters and his eyes fall instantly on me. He checks his watch, and as if remembering, my stomach growls loudly.
I close my hand over it, embarrassed.
He smiles.
“What time is it?” I’m pathetic. Physically weak after one day without food.
“Eight o’clock.”
I touch my hair, wonder what I look like. “I fell asleep.” I don’t know why I tell him. I mean, it’s kind of obvious.
“Are you ready for dinner?”
I nod. Hunger makes me compliant. “I need to use the bathroom.” I don’t. I haven’t had anything to eat or drink but a little bit of water. I just need a minute alone to prepare for him. To steel myself.
He gestures for me to go ahead, and I slip off the side of the bed farthest from him and go into the bathroom. There’s no lock on the door, but I close it and switch on the light.
I run the water and look at my reflection. My hair is sticking up on one side so I finger-comb it down, then splash water on my face before brushing my teeth. I’m not wearing makeup. I don’t plan on trying to look pretty for my kidnapper.
I’ll feel better after I eat. Be able to think straight again. I need to call Liam. And I need to understand what Damian plans to do with me.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step out into the bedroom. He’s at the window looking out into the woods.
I’m tempted to ask him if it was real, if he was out there last night. But it feels strange, almost too intimate that we saw each other like we did, so I remain silent.