Page 68 of See Me

He nods. “Tuesday, you stay and watch Ella, I’ll be back.”

“Thanks.” I crouch down and tap my fingers on thefloor and she scurries over and into my hands. I stand with one last glance at Luca and close the bathroom door behind me.

It takes me two shampoos to get the grime out of my hair. I take my time under the cool water and soon feel like my fever has broken and turn the water temperature up. I feel mostly human when I step out and towel off. Tuesday is curled up in the sink, one paw covering her nose. I tiptoe out and grab some clean clothes and go back to the bathroom. Dried and moisturized, I pile my hair on my head, brush my teeth, and grab my phone off the nightstand.

I hear movement in the kitchen as I unlock my phone and find a slew of notifications.

Cassie:

I feel like crap, you ok?

Enzo:

If your hands are zip tied you can break them by forcing your hands up then down real fast.

I’ve attached a video demonstrating how to break them.

Luca has ticklish feet; you can immobilize him easily then RUN.

Among the messages are several videos labeled “How to Escape an Ax Murderer.”

I giggle as I round the island.

Luca turns from the stove when I enter. He raises one eyebrow and looks me up and down. I’m not sure if he’s curious why I laughed or if he’s assessing whether or not I’m going to hit him over the head with a frying pan and try to claw his eyes out. My eyes skim down his exposed chest, still damp from his shower.

“I’m good.” I wave my phone in front of me. “It, uh, appearsyour brother is under the impression I was kidnapped. I have several self-defense videos now in my arsenal.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, he threatened me with police involvement if I didn’t send him photographic evidence of you still alive. So,” he scratches the back of his neck, “there may be a fairly unflattering photo in his phone he will most definitely use to blackmail you at some point.” He turns his attention back to the stove. “I also had to, sort of, explain how I knew where you lived. He knows about your situation. Sorry. I hope you don’t mind.”

I take a deep breath and blow it out puffed cheeks. “I guess that’s better than you going to jail.” My cheeks heat with embarrassment and my leg bounces under the counter. “It was stupid of me to hide it from everyone, anyway.” My stomach lodges in my throat at my next thought. “You didn’t tell him about… before?”

And now I feel like my skin is flayed open and my insides are exposed for all to see.

He turns from the stove and my eyes dance down his chest and abs. “No, I didn’t.” He slides a plate in front of me with a grilled chicken sandwich on focaccia bread with bacon and avocado. I stare at the plate a little taken aback at his cooking skills. I look from the plate to him and back to the plate again.

“Sorry, you probably wanted breakfast. I didn’t even think. It’s late but you’ve been sleeping all day.” He reaches to grab the plate back.

“No, it’s fine. It looks great, actually. I just wasn’t expecting you to be able to cook.”

He shrugs. “Gotta eat.”

I tear a paper towel off the roll next to me and place it in my lap. “You want to explain to me how,” I motion between the two of us, “this all came to be.”

He wipes his hands on a towel and throws it over his shoulder.His eyes drop to the floor and he leans on the counter behind him and crosses his ink covered arms. “I heard Tuesday crying through the door so I used my spare key to come and get her.” He rubs his hand along his jaw. “When she ran back to your bedroom she was making a fuss and wouldn’t leave. So, I popped my head in and found you sick.”

I clear my throat. “Well, thank you. I’m feeling myself, so,” I motion behind me toward the door, “if you wanna… go?”

He pushes off the counter and grabs the towel off of his shoulder. “Right. Yeah.” He absently wipes his hands again and looks around. “I'll just find my cat… and go.” He walks around the living room gathering his things. I get one last look at the wings tattooed on his back before he pulls his shirt over his head. My mind flits through the possible meanings, but not one of them seems to fit. I turn back to my plate and pick a piece of chicken off and nibble it. He puts his hat on, grabs his phone and keys off the table, and pads down the hallway, barefoot, calling for Tuesday.

He comes out a minute later with the cat perched on his shoulder. “Listen, about the other night—”

“Nope. No need.” I wave a hand wildly in front of me, my face erupting in heat. “I was made aware of the terms. It’s all good.”

“Right.” He knocks his fist on the granite of the island. “So, that’s not why you left?”

Most people would just leave a person to wallow in their own embarrassing attempt to escape the real world. But no, he just shoves it right in your face.

I laugh a little too loud to be convincing. “Completely unrelated.”

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