Page 28 of Hook

Her brow furrows. “There’s only enough for you.”

“I don’t mind sharing,” I say.

“I’ll sit with you if you want company, but I won’t eat your food.”

Nodding, I smile. “Thank you. I would like someone to talk to. How long have I been in here?”

“Two days, I believe.”

I sit on the sofa and place the tray on the coffee table, pulling the lid off. “It felt far longer. Why is there no clock in here?”

Her eye twitches a little. “The boss doesn’t like them.”

I purse my lips. “Who is the boss?”

Her jaw clenches. “I can’t answer your questions.”

Disappointment coils through me, as I only want to know who the hell I’ve been captured by. “Okay, do you like working for him?”

Her eyes narrow. “I’d rather not talk about him.”

I grab a French fry, my mouth watering. “What do you want to talk about?” I ask, biting it and savoring the crispy deliciousness. It may have only been two days, but it feels like I haven’t eaten in weeks.

She shrugs. “You’re the one who wants the company.”

At that moment, I wonder why I want it. She’s not exactly friendly. “Right, so what do you do when you’re not working?”

Her expression is hardened as she stares at me for a few beats, and it softens a little. “I like to travel,” she says simply.

“Oh lovely, anywhere exotic?” I ask, grabbing my cheeseburger and taking a bite, moaning at how good it tastes.

“I’ve been all over the world, visiting places most people wouldn’t dream of going to. From the highest mountains to the deepest jungles, it’s been quite a journey.”

“Really?” I say, intrigued, as I’ve always wanted to travel, but Dad said it was too dangerous. I’ve only ever been to the Caribbean, and that was only once on a business trip with Dad. Other than that, I’ve rarely left San Diego.

It appears that my questioning set her off, as she talks about her travels after her husband died, telling me stories as I eat my food. This is what I needed, even if she was reluctant at first to give it. Company, as I’m so used to having someone around, even if it’s my bodyguard.

Finally, Mary-Anne finishes, looking a little starry-eyed from recounting the places she’s visited.

“Wow, it sounds amazing,” I say wistfully. “The thought of leaving this place behind and exploring the world sounds so appealing right now.”

Her entire countenance changes as she stiffens, glaring at me. “You can’t leave.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t be in here talking to you. You’re trying to manipulate me.”

I stand, shaking my head. “No, that’s not—”

“Quiet, I’ve had enough of your shenanigans.” With that, she turns around and walks out, slamming the door so loud it makes me jump.

I slump into the chair, staring at the shut door as tears gather in my eyes. I don’t let them fall. It’s weak to cry and it won’t get me anywhere, so I grab the basket of fries and continue to eat them, contemplating whether I could overpower Mary-Anne when she comes back next. It might be my only shot at freedom.

* * *

Later on that night,I hear the jangle of keys again, assuming Mary-Anne has returned with more food. The woman is crazy. All I said was I’d like to get away from here and she practically snapped my head off.

My heart skips a beat when I glance at the door and find my handsome captor leaning against the doorframe, arching a brow at me. “Did you miss me?”

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