Then I gesture for her to follow me.
As we walk down the hall, past the gym and toward the library, Dove asks, “How long will I have to stay here?”
“Until it’s safe, and I’m ready to leave.” I stop us directly in front of the door. Her cheeks are a soft pink, and her bee-stung lips are begging to be kissed. My attraction to her is spiraling out of control. I’m going to need to get a grasp on it.
Reaching for the door handle, I twist the knob and push the door open. I revel in the audible gasp she releases at the sight. I wasn’t lying when I said I built this place with her in mind. Her love for reading was front and center when I designed the bunker. In fact, she’s the only constant in my mind. The only person that matters.
Walking inside, I watch her face, the way her gaze widens, and her lips part. She’s both shocked and in awe. I knew she would love this room.
Turning to me, she asks, “You built this for me?”
My heart lurches in my chest because, for the first time, she’s looking at me like I’m more than her captor. Some deeper feeling swirls in her eyes, and right then, I wish she could remember me. Remember that night. Remember where it all started.
13
The rest of the day is tense. I try to keep myself busy reading and watching movies, but nothing holds my interest because my mind is too exhausted trying to make sense of my situation. I still catch myself thinking that this can’t be real, that I must be asleep in my bed. That any minute now, I’m going to wake up and laugh about the crazy dream I had.
Curled up in the large recliner in the library, with Max cuddled up next to me, purring away, I do my best to focus on the book I’m reading. Looking at the pages, I read the same paragraph for the third time. This is pointless. Zane has left me alone for the last few hours, giving me space, he said. As if that was the issue here.
When I hear approaching footsteps, my head snaps up, and I drop the book I’ve been trying to read for thirty minutes into my lap.
“Would you like to work out with me?” Zane asks while leaning against the door casually.
“What… how?”
He chuckles. “In the gym. Do you want to work out? There is a stationary bike, a treadmill, and a rowing machine.”
“Oh…” I’m about to decline, but then I remember that there are probably heavy weights in the gym, weights I can use as weapons. “Sure, I’ll come.”
Looking pleased about me taking his invitation, he nods and starts to walk away. “Come, let me show you the rest of your closet. I got you some workout clothes as well.”
I’ve been wearing these thick pajamas all day, which are comfortable as hell, and it’s not like anyone will see me here, so there really isn’t a reason to change, though I guess I won’t be able to wear these while working out. Getting up from the recliner, I follow him through the apartment and into the bedroom.
Pulling out the drawers, he shows me what’s in each one, then he walks to the large mirror that spreads from floor to ceiling. He pushes a button—I hadn’t noticed—on the side of it, and the mirror slowly swings open.
“Oh, wow,” I exclaim as the enormous walk-in closet comes into view. He walks inside, and I follow behind him, too curious not to.
“This side holds all of my clothes, and these two sides hold yours. Workout attire is over there.” He points to the far right of the wall.
“Wow,” I repeat because, really, it’s the only thing I can think to say. This whole thing is so unreal. He bought all of these things for me? People don’t just spend money on other people, not unless they care about them, so why did he spend all this money on me? Why did he build this fortress and bring me here? Is it because he’s obsessed with me?
I snap out of it when he grabs something from his side of the closet and starts to walk out. “I’ll give you a minute so you can get dressed and meet you in the gym.”
All I manage is a nod, still baffled by the number of clothes and shoes he got for me. I wish I could say that I don’t care about any of this, that material things don’t matter to me, but that would be a lie. The sad truth is that these things do mean something to me. They mean a lot. Growing up poor, I never had pretty clothes or even new clothes. I was simply glad when I got clothes that would somewhat fit me and didn’t have huge holes or stains on them.
Having him buy all this stuff for me, providing me with the things I need, has my stomach in knots. I’ve never been so conflicted in my life.
I want to hate him. I want to feel nothing besides anger toward him, but looking at what he’s done for me, has my feelings and thoughts twisted, a knife piercing me in the gut.
No, I can’t let him do this to me. This was probably exactly why he did this. He’s trying to buy my trust, trying to make me thankful. Thankful that I have him, thankful that he got me all these things. A sour taste fills my mouth.
I can’t let him win. I need to keep a clear head. No matter what he does or says, he is the enemy, and I can’t forget that because the moment I do, all chances of me getting out of here will be lost. I can’t get wrapped up in this game he’s playing.
Searching through the clothes, I pull out some capri pants, a sports bra, and a loose-fitting T-shirt, which I switch into quickly. Then I find a pair of socks and running shoes, which, no surprise, are my exact size. Putting those on as well, the last thing I do is put my long hair up in a ponytail with a hair tie that I find in the bathroom.
As I walk to the gym, my mind wanders. I’ve come to the conclusion that Zane’s obsession with me knows no bounds. I wonder just exactly how much he knows about me? How long has he been stalking me, watching me? I shiver at the memory of being watched—at the fear. It was him all along, it had to be, but the biggest question is, why?
I walk into the large room, holding a plethora of fitness equipment, too many to count, but my eyes land on one in particular. It’s a metal bar hanging from the ceiling.
Attached to that bar is a shirtless Zane doing pull-ups. I remember having to do them in school, hating that I was so weak I could barely do a single one. Zane makes it look like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Up and down, back up and down, without stopping.
His back is turned toward me, and all I can do is watch his bulging muscles flex as he repeats the motion. I’m so mesmerized, I’m frozen in place, forgetting for a moment why I’m even here.
Suddenly Zane stops. He is just hanging from the bar now, his arms extended like he is catching his breath.
“Enjoying the show?” His deep voice fills the room. Even though he is facing the other way and can’t see my face redden, I look away embarrassed. Only then, as I avert my vision to the wall, do I realize that the entire left side of the gym is a giant mirror.
Shit. He caught me watching him. Again.
A little bit flustered and more than ashamed of myself, I walk over to the treadmill and start walking. Seeing that one wall is a mirror, ruins my plan to sneakily attack him with a weight. Even if he turns away from me, he would be able to see me coming.
It’s like he thought of everything.
After spending some time in the gym, Zane makes us dinner, and I do my best to ignore the way his muscles clench and work as he moves about the kitchen. I have to be sick, or this is really nothing more than a fucked-up dream. That has to be it.