Page 44 of Monster

I hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch, and though I was getting hungry, I didn’t know how I could eat anything without it coming back up.

Lucy was a short-statured woman, almost as wide as she was tall.

She had brown eyes and caramel-colored hair. She didn’t talk to me at all. When I tried to speak to her, she looked at me as if I were a different species—an alien invading Earth. Under her sharp gaze, I was unsure how to convince her that I had come in peace.

I didn’t know where she was from or what language she spoke, but I guessed it was something European or Mediterranean.

She looked like she had spent most of her life on a tropical beach, so what the hell was she doing here in California, and why was she working for such a man?

She didn’t even bat an eye over the fact that I was being kept here against my will, a testament to that when she didn’t enter this room—my prison—by herself when she delivered the food, but instead with a mean-looking older man, tattooed from head to toe.

Lucy didn’t speak to me, and this man didn’t look at me.

Neither wanted to, or perhaps had been instructed to not interact with me.

Just a small smile from Lucy as she placed the food down, then they both left, and the lock clicked into place.

My stomach grumbled, and I was half tempted to eat something, but that meant I had to turn the lights on and move away from my safe spot on the small recliner facing the window.

I wasn’t ready for any of those things.

I wasn’t ready to face my reality just yet.

It didn’t seem I had a say in that because the door clicked open once more, and though I didn’t look to see, my skin pricked with awareness and the hair on the back of my neck rose.

It wasn’t Lucy coming back with dinner.

Not with my body’s natural response to a predator in the same room as me, I was sure.

I held my breath and kept my gaze on the window when he just stood there and watched me in the dark.

At this point, I wouldn’t really be surprised if someone told me he could see in the dark.

Then he let out a small audible sigh that nearly had me jumping out of my skin before he reached over and turned on the light, encasing the entire room in a soft orange glow and taking away my view of the outside.

I blinked as I gazed at my reflection from the window.

I didn’t look any different from how I did when I left the house… two days ago?

I felt different.

It felt like a lifetime had already passed.

He walked further into the room and his reflection came into view. He was carrying a tray of what looked like a grilled-cheese sandwich and tomato soup.

My stomach grumbled a little at the sight, and he paused.

“Jesus, girl. What were you thinking, starving yourself all day? Do you really believe that will help?” he grumbled, his voice gruff.

I cleared my throat. “My name’s notgirl.”

The corners of his lips lifted marginally into a small smile. “Wildcat.”

I frowned at him when he sat on the edge of the bed and faced me. He set the tray down on the bedside table, and I tried not to squirm from his attention.

“What do you want?” I croaked. A part of me didn’t want to know, but the bigger part was so fucking scared of the unknown, I would much rather have him tell me than keep me in limbo.

“For starters, how about you eat dinner?”

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