Creep - Jennifer Hillier [78]
He pointed the barrel at her. “Put the cuffs on.”
Sheila picked up a handcuff but didn’t fasten it. The steel felt cold against her bare leg. “Come on, even if I could hurt you, how am I going to get out? You’ve got this place locked up like Fort Knox. I can’t get out without the codes.”
His face was like stone. She softened her voice and tried a different tactic. “Ethan, you’re in control here. You’re the boss. I’m not going anywhere. Let me at least sit on the sofa when you’re not here and use the bathroom when I need to. Let me have some measure of dignity. What difference does it make? Let me feel human before I die.”
His face twitched. She contained her jubilation. She’d gotten through to him.
“Fine.” He kept the gun trained on her. “We’ll give it a try. But if you—”
“I won’t.”
He leaned over her, cupping her chin with his free hand, his eyes boring deeply into hers. He spoke with perfect enunciation. “If you piss me off, Sheila, I’ll end you. Without hesitation. I’m getting as tired of this as you are.”
She nodded, her chin still in his hand. “So let me go.” She said it quietly, keeping her eyes focused on his face. “I’ll walk out of here and hitch a ride home and never tell anyone what happened. You can leave town. I’ll say I freaked out, started drinking again, passed out, and didn’t know where I was. I’ll say anything you want me to. Just let me go.”
“So you can go back to Morris?”
Morris again. Her mind raced as she tried to think of what to say.
Before she could respond, Ethan shook his head. “Never mind. Shut up. I don’t want to talk about him.”
“But—”
“I said shut up.”
“Do you actually think I’m in love with him?”
That got his attention. “Aren’t you?”
She gazed back, hoping her calm demeanor concealed her increasing heart rate. “I have love for Morris, yes. But I think you’ve misunderstood what it is I feel for him.”
A moment of silence passed before he sat down beside her on the bed. The gun rested comfortably in his hand. “Explain it to me.”
She was ready. “I’m thirty-nine. I’ll be forty in a few months. I’m divorced. I don’t have children. Morris was my chance to have the family I’ve always wanted.”
She reached out and placed her palm lightly on Ethan’s knee. He jerked in surprise, but didn’t pull away. It was the first time since she’d been here that she’d willingly touched him. “You’re twenty-three and still in grad school. Can you tell me you’re ready for that? You said it yourself the day we broke up—our affair was never destined to go anywhere.”
“I was angry.”
“So you didn’t mean it? You wanted to be with me? Long term?” The words were ridiculous. He would see right through them. But her eyes stayed steady on his face.
“What difference does it make now?” Ethan’s face was impassive. “Look around. It’s too late.”
“It’s not too late.” Sheila tucked her bare legs underneath her, a girly move that would make her seem more vulnerable. Her right hand was still on his knee, and she used her left hand to smooth her straggly hair behind her ears in an effort to look less unattractive. “This situation is extremely unconventional, yes, and I’ll be honest when I say you have serious issues we’ll need to work on. You know that. But if the reason you brought me here is because deep down you want to be with me and can’t stand to see me marry someone else, then that’s normal. That’s human.” She paused for effect. “Ethan, you should have told me how you felt. You should have fought for me. You would have won.”
She moved her hand from his knee to his palm. Squeezed. He looked at her, studying her features closely. “Don’t bullshit me.”
Was that hope she heard in his tone?
“You think that’s what I’m doing?” She unfolded her legs. “I’m going to take a shower if that’s okay with you. Stay right here. Don’t leave, okay?” She squeezed his hand once more before letting it go.
He made no move to stop her when she slipped off the bed and headed back toward the bathroom.
When she finished showering fifteen