Pieces of Her (Andrea Oliver 1)

He turned his head. He brushed imaginary lint off his pants.

Laura felt her stomach drop. She knew the look Nick got on his face when he was finished with someone. Her plan hadn’t worked. The marshals. The earbuds. Andy waiting down the hall. Everything had gone to hell because she had pushed him too hard.

Was it on purpose?

Had Laura sabotaged everything because Nick’s power over her was still too strong?

She stared at the piano, longing, aching, yearning, for a way to make this work.

Nick asked, “Do you still play?”

Laura’s heart flipped inside of her chest, but she kept her gaze on the piano.

“You keep staring at it.” He turned around to look for himself. “Do you still play?”

“I wasn’t allowed.” A nerve twitched in her eyelid as she tried not to give herself away. “Someone might recognize my sound, and then—”

“The gig is up—literally.” He grinned at the pun. “Did you know, my love, that I’ve been taking piano lessons?”

“Really?” Laura imbued the word with sarcasm, but underneath, she could barely breathe.

He said, “It was collecting dust in the rec room for years, but then some fool started a petition to move it in here for the children, and of course everyone signed on for the children.” He rolled his eyes. “You can’t imagine how painful it is, hearing three-year-olds peck out ‘Chopsticks.’”

She took a quick breath so she could say, “Play something for me.”

“Oh, no, Jinxie. That’s not where this is going.” He stood up. He motioned for the guard’s attention and pointed to the piano. “My friend here wants to play, if that’s all right?”

The guard shrugged, but Laura shook her head. “No, I don’t. I won’t.”

“Oh, my darling. You know I hate it when you refuse me.”

His tone was joking in that way that wasn’t joking. Laura felt the old fear start to stir. Part of her would always be that terrified girl who had passed out in the bathroom.

He said, “I want to hear you play again, Jinx. I made you give it up once. Can’t I make you pick it back up again?”

Her hands quivered in her lap. “I haven’t played since—since Oslo.”

“Please.” He could still say the word without it sounding like a request.

“I don’t—”

Nick walked around to her side of the table. Laura didn’t flinch this time. He wrapped his fingers lightly around her arm and gently pulled. “It’s the least you can do for me. I promise I won’t ask for anything else.”

Laura let him pull her up to standing. She reluctantly walked toward the piano. Her nerves were shot through with adrenaline. She was suddenly terrified.

Her daughter was listening.

“Come now, don’t be shy.” Nick had blocked the guard’s view. He pushed her down on the bench so hard that she felt a jarring in her tailbone. “Play for me, Jinx.”

Laura’s eyes had closed of their own accord. She felt her stomach clench. The ball of fear that had lain dormant for so long began to stir.

“Jane.” He dug his fingers into her shoulders. “I said play something for me.”

She forced open her eyes. She looked at the keys. Nick was standing close, but not pressing against her. It was his fingers biting into her shoulders that fully awakened her old fear.

“Now,” he said.

Laura raised her hands. She gently placed her fingers on the keys but did not press them. The plastic veneer was worn. Strips of wood showed like splinters.