Creep - Jennifer Hillier [57]
Another crackling pause. Where the hell was she calling from, a cave? Morris’s heart was beating so hard he felt dizzy.
“In time I hope you can . . . forgive me.” She was full out sobbing by this point. “I’m taking a leave of absence from the university. Please don’t follow me or look for me. Respect my decision. If you ever loved me, you’ll let me go and move on with your life. I’m sorry, Morris. Take care of yourself.”
Her last words were barely a whisper and he could hardly hear them over the blood pulsing in his temples. He couldn’t have heard her right. He replayed the message again, unable to process that she was, indeed, leaving him.
“Everything okay, Mr. Gardener?” Carmen Khan said at his elbow. Her face was a picture of concern, but her dark, perfectly made-up eyes revealed her impatience.
Morris turned to face the woman, scarcely able to believe the words he was about to say.
“The wedding’s off,” he said hoarsely. “It’s canceled.”
The wedding planner’s eyes widened in alarm. “I—I’m sorry to hear that. Are you certain?” She placed a hand on his arm.
Morris moved away from her. He didn’t want to be touched. “Truth be told, I’m not sure.” He felt deranged. “We’re having . . . problems.” He couldn’t think of how else to phrase it.
Carmen stared at him a moment longer before consulting her clipboard. “The wedding’s not till Saturday. We can sign off today assuming it’s a go and give it a couple days.” She hesitated. “The thing is, Mr. Gardener, everything’s already been reserved. You’ve already paid the deposit for the room and the food, and it can’t be refunded. Same goes for the DJ and the photographer. If there’s any chance you two might . . .” She noticed Morris wasn’t listening.
“Mr. Gardener.” She touched his arm again.
He jerked his arm away and looked down at her. She instinctively stepped back.
“Mr. Gardener, if you cancel the wedding today, you’ll lose a lot of money. I don’t know if you realize how much—”
“Cancel it.”
“But I really think—”
“Cancel it.”
Carmen Khan pressed her clipboard to her chest and nodded. “I’m very sorry.”
Morris watched her walk away, her four-inch heels soundless on the thick carpet. “So am I,” he said quietly to no one.
CHAPTER : 19
Something was around her neck that hadn’t been there when she’d fallen asleep. Reflexively, Sheila pawed at it.
“Easy,” Ethan said. “You’ll break it.”
She opened her eyes. Ethan was sitting on the edge of the bed, blocking her view of the TV, but she could hear Anderson Cooper’s voice recounting the day’s top stories. She had no idea how long Ethan had been here. Her captor was watching her, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Her head groggy, Sheila touched her neck again, rattling her chains. He’d put some kind of necklace on her while she was sleeping, and she pulled it away from her so she could see it better. It took a few seconds for her vision to clear, and when it did, she saw a silver amulet on a leather string. Engraved on it were symbols she didn’t recognize.
“It’s Apache,” he said. “From New Mexico. Something to ward off evil spirits. I got it from a friend.”
She stared at him through her brain fog. “Are you being ironic?”
“It doesn’t quite match the diamond bracelet Morris gave you,” Ethan said, his voice sly. “But it looks good on you still.”
He was thinking about the tennis bracelet Morris had given her? Why in the world would he be thinking about that? The bracelet was at home, locked up in the small vault in her bedroom closet, safe and sound. Unlike her engagement ring. She was still too scared to ask what he’d done with it.
Her bare legs felt cold. He’d taken her jeans off a couple of days before, and all she was wearing was her sweater, stained and rank from her own body odor and covered in dried particles of food. As if sensing her discomfort, Ethan pulled