“There’s a small bookshelf in your room. Not sure what it has, though. I wasn’t furnishing this place, so…”
“I’ll make sure to check it out then.”
“If you’re lucky enough to find something, then this month will be your perfect opportunity to lay down, relax with a good book in one hand and some coffee in the other, while Fynn and I take care of business.”
“You mean, if the machine spits it out, right?” I laugh, and he joins in.
“It better,” he tells me.
“Well, alright then. I think I’ll go take a shower, because I feel horrible.”
“Well, you don’t look horrible,” he tells me quickly, then even more quickly adds. “You look fine. I mean, you look better than fine. Just, you look fine for someone who was held captive a few hours ago. I mean….”
“I know what you mean.” A tidal wave of warmth and gratitude washes over me, as I beam with a strange sense of happiness at not only being alive, but being here. “And, thank you. For everything. Even if it is just you doing your job.”
I get up first, and he does the same.
“Rest well,” he suggests. “If you need us for anything, we’re right here, 24/7.”
“Thanks,” I raise my hand a little awkwardly in a gesture of goodbye, then walk down the short hallway to my room.
When I enter, I immediately close the door. Two large windows overlook the forest around us, and I see the mountains in the distance. Well, if I need to run, I should make sure not to run in that direction. What’s the point of escaping someone who wants to kill you, only to die of thirst or hunger or fall prey to some animal in the woods?
I put my backpack on the bed. It’s covered with a woven blanket, the likes of which old Nordic grandmas would make for a newborn, all colorful and checkered. It makes me smile. That’s the second thing around here that makes me feel welcome. Maybe this month won’t be so bad, after all. That is, if I manage to avoid Fynn at all cost, which is not really possible. But, I can at least try. He obviously doesn’t want to be here. I’m sure Anderson doesn’t either, but at least he’s being nice about it. Not like I asked them both to be here and babysit me. I sigh, realizing that such thoughts aren’t really helpful.
I see a door in the corner, and upon opening it, smile at the fact that I have my own bathroom. It’s small, and once inside, I can’t spread my arms to the side. The shower stall is inconvenient and I’ll probably hit my elbows against the walls all the time. I have to lean to the side while sitting on the toilet, not to hit the sink with my shoulder or head. But, at least it’s some privacy, and under these conditions, I’ll gladly take it.
I grab a t-shirt and a clean pair of undies from the backpack, then jump into the shower. It’s like I thought. I can barely turn around, but I manage it somehow. When I get out, I see a clean toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink. So, they really have thought of everything. I brush my teeth, and cover under the blankets. I consider closing the curtains, but the view is too beautiful. The mountains are majestic, covered in lush greenery and I can’t stop staring at them.
Slowly, without me even realizing, I drift off into deep sleep. The fear stops looping at some point, and my thoughts become a car burning up the road, smoothly taking over hills and valleys, heading into the warm, sunny horizon.
CHAPTER 7
Fynn
I check the perimeter quickly. This is definitely easier done in the daytime. And, even the woods surrounding us don’t seem so dark and ominous, as they usually do. Still close to the house, I pause. I listen. The sound of my own footsteps is silent. I hear only the wind. Usually, the wind is my friend. My sense of smell is unbeatable, and the wind usually knows to escort anything important my way.
Suddenly, a flutter of leaves is raised off the ground, swirled in the wind, and then smashed against the ground. Rain’s coming. The leaves are like eyes, staring at me.
Whatcha gonna do, Fynn? Ya gonna lose this one, like ya lost the other one?
The words flooded my ears. I could hear all those ancient voices buried deep inside my mind, reminding me that I failed. Telling me I would fail all over again. Hoping I would fail all over again.
I rub my eyes, opening them. There’s a cage all around us. I can smell it. The bars are closing in, and we don’t even see it. I can’t blame Anderson. It’s just how he is. He’s an upbeat guy. You can beat him, but you can’t break him. The more you block his sunlight, the more he convinces you he’s a rain kinda guy and never needed the sun in the first place.
Not me. You can’t beat me, and you sure as Hell can’t break me. You can’t break something that’s already been broken. It doesn’t work twice. That’s what makes me a good cop. I don’t get distracted. Never again. I made that mistake once, and it cost me half of my life. The other half I’m left with is barely good for anything. But, I keep pushing on. What else is there to do?
I walk back towards the house, and just as I’m about to open the front door, I hesitate. I remember what Anderson said. The girl probably doesn’t want to see me, even in passing. It’s good Anderson’s here. He’ll know how to handle her.
I turn to the wicker chairs on the patio and collapse into one of them. I hear it squeal underneath my weight, but eventually it settles in. At that moment, Anderson comes outside. He takes the other chair. He puts two beers on the table. Opened, of course. No glasses. That just means washing up.
“How is she?” I ask, reaching out for the bottle closest to me.
“What do you think?” He shrugs.
“If I knew I wouldn’t be asking,” I snort. I do that too much, I know. But, it’s hard to fight an instinctual response.
“Well, you could have asked her that yourself, you know,” Anderson tells me and I know he means well.