She pushed the thoughts aside and just tried to relax, letting the warmth of the sudsy water work its magic. She stayed that way until the water began to grow cold and her skin was wrinkly. She washed her hair and rinsed it with the hand sprayer before climbing out to dry off and return to her room. Looking in the suitcase, she found a simple tank dress with a built-in bra and pulled it over her head. It was a bit loose on her thin frame, but it was comfortable. She slipped on a fresh pair of panties and what looked like the kind of shoes you would wear on the beach.
Whoever had packed the bag must have been a woman, as they had included a few sample size beauty products like lotion and hair gel. There was a brush she hadn’t noticed earlier when she had changed at the diner and a small tube of medicated Chapstick, which she seized and applied to her chapped lips.
There was even a little sampler of makeup, but she wasn’t really worried about her appearance beyond trying to repair the tape damage and dry skin so she didn’t look horrid for the wedding when she got out. “If you get out,” her mind echoed, but she refused to accept that she might not survive. “If I get married,” came a final thought.
The sound of a door opening somewhere caught her attention and she hurriedly finished up. There was no blow dryer, so she put a bit of the gel in her hair to let it air dry. She waited to see if he would come to the door, but he didn’t. Instead, she heard him going into the room next door and then into the bathroom. Though it had to be obvious she was awake and had bathed, he didn’t knock on the door. Instead, she heard the shower running. She sat on the bed and waited, listening as he showered and eventually left the bathroom, presumably to get dressed.
After a while, she could hear him moving around out in the front room and grew irritated. Had he zero intention of even checking on her? She could be dead for all he knew. Annoyed, she stomped to the door of her room and began rapping loudly on it with her fist.
“Open the door!” she demanded.
A few moments later, she could hear his voice outside the door. “Did you forget a word?”
“Forget a...what? Let me out of here!” she shouted.
“Not until you show a few manners.”
“Manners? You kidnapped me! What would you know about manners?” she barked.
“I guess you don’t want out then. I’ll bring you in some food later.”
“Wait. No. Wait,” she replied, frustrated. She searched her brain. Manners? What did he want from her? Oh. “Could you open the door, please?”
There was the immediate sound of a lock clicking and the door opened to reveal him smiling broadly down at her. Somehow, he looked like he was even larger than she remembered him and he was devastating in a tight black t-shirt and jeans. She noted he was in his sock feet and wondered if this was a good time to run from him, but she suspected she’d be caught before she could even get out one of the locked doors.
“That’s better. You smell better, too,” he told her.
“So do you,” she sneered.
“Thank you. Would you like to sit down and talk like two civilized people?”
“You don’t seem very civilized to me.”
“You might be surprised,” he replied.
Reluctantly, Eimear followed him across the room and sat down in a chair adjacent to the overstuffed leather sofa. She said nothing. He was the one that wanted to talk. He could start.
“Listen, we are going to be stuck here for a day or two, perhaps more. It depends on your betrothed. It doesn’t have to be horrible.”
“What part of being abducted, driven to another state, and locked in a room is supposed to be pleasant for me?”
“I didn’t say pleasant. I said not horrible. Just don’t give me any grief and there is no reason why you can’t have free run of the place, with a few rules.”
“What kind of rules?”
“My bedroom is off-limits. Some of the rooms are locked and will stay that way. Outside is off-limits unless I go with you. That’s it. Other than that, you have free roam of the house. There is a library upstairs you might enjoy and there is cable TV.”
“Phone? Internet? Can I at least check in with my fiancé and let him know I am okay? Surely he’ll want proof of life or whatever you kidnappers call it these days. What about my sister. I want her to know I’m all right.”
“All that is taken care of. You have no access to the outside world here. You’ll be back in it soon enough. So, what do you say? Friends?”