Page 75 of Pose for Me
“Good,” I lie easily. “What do you have for work today?”
“Remember the upper jaw surgery I told you about a few weeks ago?”
I nod. “The BSSO?”
He smiles at my knowledge of dental procedures. “I have another one of those. I’ll be in the OR all day.”
“I’ll have dinner ready for you when you get off. I took out a roast.”
“Sounds good. I should be back around five this evening.” He pats one of my thighs, and I roll off him, watching as he climbs out of bed and enters the bathroom. His briefs hug his ass deliciously. I can’t wait until he finds out what I did for us. He’ll want to sink his huge cock deep inside me when he knows that we’re free.
Twenty minutes later, he comes out freshly showered and makes his way to his closet to grab a pair of scrubs. Once he’s dressed, he climbs back onto the bed, settling between my spread legs. He kisses me, and I give him my tongue, letting him plunder my mouth.
When he’s had his fill, he draws away. “See you tonight. Be good, baby boy.”
I shoot him a cheeky smile. “I’m always good, Daddy.”
Ryell barks a laugh, kisses my nose, then climbs out of bed.
“Daddy?” I call after him, sitting up in bed. He turns around to look at me, an eyebrow raised.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him what I came up with. It might not be the most watertight plan, but as an FBI agent, I know when they find my fingerprints all over the letter and have handwriting analysis done to show that I didn’t write it under duress, they’ll call Brock off my case. They’ll know that I’m safe and Brock won’t look so fucking stressed.
But if I tell him, Ryell will want to lock me up in that damn dungeon. He’ll be in surgery all day today, so when I get away, he’ll never know. He’ll only be made aware when he gets the alert, but I’ll already be back by the time he gets out of surgery.
Deciding against sharing my plan with him, I just say, “Have a good day.”
Ryell stares at me for a few seconds, and I think I’ve given myself away, but he just pulls his lips in and nods, leaving the room and closing the door softly.
I flop back on the bed, throwing an arm over my eyes.
I’ll wait until he’s been at work for an hour or two. That’ll probably be around the time his surgery starts, so he won’t be able to get back here for at least three hours. I can write the note, wrap it with my tie, and leave it…somewhere.
Fuck, that’s the only issue I’m having, where to leave the letter.
The woods that bracket Ryell’s house has to lead somewhere. I can search there. I thought about placing the message in Ryell’s mailbox for the postal worker to collect, but law enforcement would just come here, and then they’d discover Ryell’s dungeon and maybe test the blood on his dental chair downstairs and find it belonged to one of his victims. Not to mention all the prints that I’m sure are in his cell. I also can’t leave it in any of his neighbors’ mailboxes. They’re too close to Ryell’s house, and the FBI will search in a twenty-mile radius.
So that’s out.
If I go through the front of his house, I risk someone seeing me and calling the cops, which will lead them back to Ryell, which will have them searching his home and uncovering evidence of his crimes.
The only option I have is to find somewhere in the woods, far enough away from his house where I know Brock will find it.
After an hour has passed, I climb out of bed and make my way to the closet. I grab a pair of Ryell’s sweatpants to slide over my legs and the tie that I had on at the bar. I stuff it in the pocket of the pants before I step back into the room. Ryell has a camera in the corner of the room, and I want to avoid it showing me with the tie, in case Ryell’s watching.
I trot downstairs and to the living room where Ryell left his sketch pad. I flip it open to a blank page, grab a pen, and carefully—but not like I’m trying too hard—write a letter to Brock, telling him I left under my own steam, that I’m safe, but I want him to stop looking for him.
Brock,
Thank you so much for not giving up on me, brother. Thank you for continuing to search when I know everyone told you it was useless.
But you can stop now. I’m fine. I left of my own free will. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you before I took off, but I was so tired and burned out on the crime, on the bodies, on the death, on the negativity. I’m so tired of it. I needed to get away to clear my mind, to live like a normal person.
I wish I could have told you before I left that I was so exhausted with it all. But I didn’t know how.
I’m happy where I am. You don’t have to search for me anymore. I’m with someone that I’m so deeply in love with that it almost hurts to think about. Don’t look for me anymore.
Lane
