The Imperfections

Despite knowing how much she’s not gonna like it, I look at her and say, “Thanks for breakfast, but I have to lock you in my basement now.”

Her smile disappears and dismay replaces her pleasure. “What?”

“I’ve gotta go to work,” I explain. “I didn’t plan to bring you back here, so I don’t have another room secure enough to keep you in while I’m gone all day. I have a bedroom upstairs I can fix up to make sure you can’t get out, and I’ll stop at the hardware store tomorrow to get what I need to do that, but for today, the only place I have without windows and with a lock strong enough to hold you is in the basement.”

Her jaw hangs open and she looks so damn offended, I get the absurd feeling she’s about to yell at me. “Are you serious right now? Why would you lock me up in a basement?”

“I just told you—”

“If I wanted to run, I could have done it already! You’re only keeping me here for the weekend, and you just said you don’t even want to kill me anymore, so what the hell, Brant? Why do you have to lock me up?”

I didn’t say I was only keeping her for the weekend. I don’t know where she got that idea, because when I took her out of her house last night I had no intention of ever returning her, but maybe she got confused by the note I made her leave. I was only buying myself a couple days, but she must have thought it meant I’d bring her back when my excuse for her disappearance expired.

Maybe that’s why she’s not as desperate to leave as I thought she’d be. Here I am thinking she understands she’s a prisoner with a bleak outlook on what’s to come, and in reality she’s thinking I’m only forcing her to be my house guest for a weekend.

If she thinks that, she’s probably telling the truth. There’s little reason for her to run beyond impatience to get home, but it would be an awful lot of trouble just to get home a day sooner, and she doesn’t seem to hate my company. Maybe her misunderstanding of the situation will work in my favor.

“I can’t just leave you here alone all day,” I say, testing the waters.

“Why not?” she demands. “I could let Scout out and keep him fed so you don’t have to put out a bowl. I can clean up the breakfast dishes and maybe make you a grocery list. I’ll find ways to keep myself busy. My house is rarely quiet, so a peaceful weekend in the woods sounds pretty nice to me. Do you have any books? I can relax and read a book while Scout plays outside. Scout wants me to stay,” she informs me.

“Does he, now?”

She nods solemnly. “He told me so. He doesn’t want me to be a basement dweller.”

My lips tug up in reluctant amusement. “You promise you’ll be here when I come back?”

“I promise,” she verifies. “I’ll even keep wearing your old T-shirt instead of my clothes, if that will help convince you.”

Her mention of it brings my gaze back to her body wrapped up in my clothes. I’ve never actually seen a woman wear my shirt before, but as my gaze wanders over her, I find myself liking it.

“Looks better on you than me,” I admit.

“I’m sure it looks great on you,” she says, flashing me a smile I’d almost call flirty, but I’m not sure. Maybe I’m imagining it.

“Yeah?” I murmur.

She nods, suddenly bashful, then she steps forward and wraps her arms around me. I blink in surprise when she looks up at me, but it’s so unexpected, I don’t think to hug her back.

After a few seconds, she lets go and awkwardly retreats a couple steps. Her cheeks are flushed and I think about explaining, but I don’t even know what I want to explain.

“I won’t go anywhere,” she tells me again before turning around and facing the sink. Without waiting for me to leave, she turns the water on and starts washing dishes.

I stand there for a second, feeling like I did that wrong, but I really need to head out, so I don’t try to fix it right now. I go to the door and whistle for Scout. He comes barreling at me. I bring him inside and kneel down, rubbing his head.

“I’m gonna go to work,” I tell Scout. “You stay here and keep an eye on Alyssa, all right? Make sure she doesn’t do anything crazy.”

Alyssa casts me an unamused look from the sink, and I crack a smile. Looking back at Scout, I pet him for another minute, pat his belly, then stand.

“I guess I’ll go, then,” I announce uncertainly.