Play Along

“I’m going to dinner,” he states as he pulls his pants up around his waist.

My eyes hold his as hatred drips through my every pore. Fuck you.

He gestures to the plate of cold food on the desk. “You know where yours is.”

I roll my eyes and turn my back to him and face the wall again.

I hear the door click as he leaves.

* * *

I feel more human, having eaten and showered. I’m lying with my back to the door when I hear him come in. The room is lit by the lamp on the desk and he’s been gone for a few hours.

I roll onto my back and look at him.

“You ate?” he asks.

I nod.

He undresses to his briefs and then goes into the bathroom. He washes his hands and then I hear him brush his teeth. He then comes and climbs into bed next to me.

We lay in silence for a long time.

Finally, he breaks it. “Why were you crying?”

I frown over at him in the darkness.

He lies on his side facing me and fiddles with the blanket. “When you came out of the nightclub onto the back dock… why were you crying?”

I hesitate before I answer. “I didn’t like the song they were playing,” I whisper into the darkness.

He doesn’t question my lie and I don’t elaborate.

3

Mac is reading on the bed while I sit at the desk. We haven’t spoken. I mean, what could we possibly have to say to each other? Unfortunately for me, there has been a weird development. An elephant has moved into the room. He’s big and pink and smells a lot like sexual chemistry. It’s not. I know it’s not. It couldn’t possibly be, but when he looks at me, for some reason, my stupid heart races.

Can he feel it?

Can he feel the way my body is reacting to his? It’s bloody uncomfortable, especially in this situation. I mean we are sleeping in the same bed. The worse thing of all is that I am finding myself wanting to make conversation. Even though I know it’s because there is nobody else and it is just human nature to want to communicate, it’s unsettling.

“I’m going to sleep,” he announces before standing. He slowly takes his t-shirt over his head. Instinctively, my eyes drop down his torso before I catch myself and look away. The heat of his gaze penetrates the air and I look up to find his dark eyes fixed on mine.

The electricity zaps between us and my heart starts to thump in my chest. He clenches his fists as they hang down by his sides as if trying to control himself. Air… there is no bloody air in here. For a long time, in the silence, our eyes stay firmly locked.

He’s just so…. masculine.

I can’t believe this.

What a nightmare. This whole situation disgusts me. I walk into the bathroom and get into the shower as I try to calm my anxiety.

I don’t need this shit.

* * *

I pace back and forth in the room that has been my prison for the last four days. He locks the door behind him in the morning and doesn’t come back until late at night, only returning to bring me food. My only solace is that he doesn’t touch me when he returns. It’s a toxic environment and I am quite sure if I stay here for another twenty-four days I will go insane. The more I think about it, and I have thought about it a lot, the more I know I need to try and call someone for help. I witnessed a murder and there is no way in hell they are going to let me walk away from all of this. I’m a witness who is still alive and that makes me a massive threat. Perhaps they are going to push me overboard after they have had their fun… nobody would ever know.

The perfect crime.