Page 28 of Blood Ties
?Chapter Thirteen
Riley
This might be easierthan I thought.
When I kissed Kai in that stupid spin the bottle game, I could sense the hunger in him. I thought it was sex he wanted... and it’s clear he does want me. But even more obviously, he’s craving affection. Fucking starved for it. I didn’t even have to touch him yesterday. Just a kind word and a glance at my tits, and he was practically panting.
I can use that, as long as I can stomach it. Every time he gives me those sad eyes it makes me want to dig them out with a fork. He doesn’t have the right to look at me like that.
But I need to focus. To keep the plan in mind. I’ll have my revenge once I’m free.
I wash myself again in the sink, this time with deodorant on hand. I must’ve forgotten to pack toothpaste, but I still brush with water, and comb out the tangles in my hair with a sigh of relief. Once I’m no longer caked in filth, I feel more like myself. A little more sane and capable of handling this.
And my birth control is here. I eye what’s left and mark it down as a mental timeline. I won’t be having Knox’s baby, thank fucking God. I don’t intend to have Kai’s either. If this drags on long enough that it comes to that, then... I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t even want to think about the possibility.
I’ll have to win Kai over before then. As I curl up with my new blanket and pillow, I shut my eyes and imagine him sliding the handcuff off of my wrist... and then picture sinking a knife into his chest, over and over again.
*
I’M NOT EXACTLY LOOKINGforward to Kai’s visits, but at least they give me something to do. The rest of my time in the basement is a stretch of long, lonely hours.
My backpack holds one last saving grace: my books. I pull out the romcom I was in the middle of reading when this all began, and halfheartedly try to distract myself with it. It’s hard to focus. The dim lighting strain my eyes, and the story is so sweet it’s almost painful in the light of everything that’s happened. More painful still when I remember that May recommended it to me.
Plus, there’s the constant weight of the silence. It’s broken only by the occasional creak of footsteps overhead and the constant slow drip of the sink.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
It’s enough to drive someone insane, given enough time.
Drip, drip...
I take a breath, toss the book aside, and pull my pillow over my head. I try to think about other things. Like the outside world. It all feels so very far away right now, but I have to keep remembering it, or I’ll forget what I’m surviving for
It’s been a few days now. My friends and I are supposed to be coming back from the music festival soon. People will realize that something is wrong, if they haven’t already. My parents will likely realize it first — they know it’s not like me to go days without checking in.
As I think of my mom and dad, imagine them getting the news, hot pressure builds behind my eyes until tears spill over. I press my face into the pillow and sob. Our last conversation ended with them being disappointed I wasn’t going to visit home while I was in California for the festival. Of course I had a million reasons — time and distance and money and my friends — but all of it seems so stupid now.
I should have spent more time with my parents, talked to them more often on the phone, told them how much I loved them every day. I should’ve attended college close to home like they wanted me to. Instead I went off chasing independence and adventure in Austin — and where did it lead me? Straight to this basement.
I miss them so badly. My mom’s hugs and cooking, my dad’s dumb jokes and quiet company in front of the TV late at night.
I have to see them again. I have to find a way to survive.
*
IN THE MORNING, WHENKai comes down with water and breakfast, I ask him to sit with me while I eat. He silently obliges, sinking next to the mattress with his back pressed against the wall, where he can watch the stairs. When footsteps pass overhead, his eyes flick upward and his shoulders tense.
“Are you worried about your dad coming down here?” I ask as I tear off tiny pieces of my toast. It’s a little stale, but it’s edible. And food means strength. I need all I can get.
Kai shakes his head. “Dad won’t bother you,” he says. “Not really his thing.”
His tone — and what I’ve already witnessed — prevent me from trying to dig into whathis thingmight be. I don’t think I want to know. But I need to be aware of potential threats. “What about your uncle?”
He shakes his head again, more vehemently. “He’s got his own shack out back and he hardly ever leaves it.”
