Taylor continued to grab the food and one of the drinks before walking over to me.

“Do you need money? Do I know you? Do you know Kash? Are you involved in drugs, or a gang, or something?”

“I’m not going to tell you anything, so stop asking questions.”

I wanted answers. But when he sat down in front of the door and popped a straw in his own drink, I knew he was done answering; but I was thankful for the little he had told me. Minutes passed before he prompted me to eat, and I finally looked through the bags full of enough food to feed Kash and Mase. I’d spent enough time crying over being taken from them, but something about staring at all that food had tears welling up again; and I suddenly had the ridiculous cravings for pancakes, my fiancé, and that big bear of a guy.

“I can’t eat all this,” I whispered, and looked helplessly up at Taylor.

“Whatever you don’t eat is mine, I haven’t eaten yet.”

Taking two burritos out of one of the bags, I set the bags down in front of the mattress and curled back up against the wall with my soda and food.

Taylor watched me eat in silence, and it wasn’t until I was done and minutes had passed without me grabbing for the bags, that he leaned forward and snatched them up and inhaled the rest of the food. We didn’t speak again for hours, but I wasted my time painting my nails and toenails, and writing in my journal.

Only this time I wasn’t just writing to my parents, I was writing to Kash too. He wasn’t gone, but I was. And despite the honesty in Taylor’s words about not hurting me, that didn’t mean one of the others wouldn’t. So the question was the same as it had been in those first unnumbered days, I didn’t know when I would see him again . . . or if I would.

Sometime after I’d stopped writing, he stood and grabbed all the trash from lunch earlier, and headed to the door to get what had to be dinner.

“Don’t go to sleep.”

I spoke quickly when he grabbed the handle of the door, and like he did earlier, his eyes looked shocked when he turned to look at me. “Why do you only leave me alone when I’m awake? Shouldn’t you leave when I’m asleep? It just doesn’t make sense that you’re here all the time, and when you do leave, you tell me not to go to sleep. Aren’t you worried I’m going to try to escape again?”

Those dark eyes of his filled with something that had fear sliding through my body, and there was no need for him to say the words out loud. The warning of what would happen if I did escape was clear. “I don’t leave this room when you’re sleeping because you’re vulnerable. If I leave you when you’re awake, then you can scream if something happens, and I’ll hear you.”

“If something happens?” I swallowed hard and blinked rapidly as I tried to understand this new look on Taylor. “Like what?”

He chewed on his bottom lip for a second before answering. “Let’s just say, if someone other than me walks through that door, scream immediately. Don’t wait for something to happen. It’s not a matter of if something will happen to you, it’s just a matter of how long they’ll wait until they start trying to get in here.” At my audible inhale, he nodded once and repeated, “Don’t go to sleep.”

I didn’t.

Not long after, he was back with two plates of spaghetti, and for the second time since I’d been there, he ate with me. Taylor was always watching me, I guess probably because it gave him something to do in this room, so I was used to his eyes on me. But the way his eyes kept drifting over to me while we ate was freaking me out. When we were finished, he picked up the plates and stood, waiting for me to follow.

“Grab the bags for your shower.”

I took the bags that held everything I would need, including new clothes, and followed behind him as he opened the door. I held onto the back of his shirt when he prompted me to, and stuck closer to him than I normally did as we walked down the halls to the kitchen, and then the bathroom; and I cringed even more into him when we would pass the other men who were in the building with us. After his warning earlier, I would have rather not left my room again, but it didn’t have a bathroom.

Once I was done relieving myself, I didn’t even stop to think about Taylor being in the same room. I never did anymore. I stripped out of my clothes and folded them into a pile on the floor before stepping into the large shower with my new shampoo, conditioner, razor, and soap. It felt so good to shave that I wanted to stand in the shower and continue letting the water pour over me once I was done. But something about knowing there were clean clothes to put on, and a toothbrush to use, had me shutting the water off and hurrying to grab the towel to dry myself.

My eyes shot over toward the counter, and lying on top was one of the shirts, boxer-briefs, the deodorant, both brushes, and toothpaste. I sent a glare to Taylor’s back, and he must have felt the tension fill the bathroom because he shifted his weight and looked down.

“I didn’t look toward the shower. I was just making it easier for when you got out, you never opened the packs of clothes and they still had stickers on them.”

Oh, well . . . “Thanks.”

I put the deodorant on before slipping into the clothes that swallowed me whole. Someone needed to give Taylor a lesson in buying women’s clothes. At least the boxer-briefs had the elastic band, but I still needed to roll them a few times so it wouldn’t feel like they were about to fall down. The hem of the shirt touched midthigh and covered the briefs, but I had to stop looking at myself in the mirror because it just reminded me of when I wore Kash’s clothes to bed.

A deep ache filled my chest and I forced tears back as I reached for the hairbrush and spent minutes getting all the tangles out from however long I’d been here. After searching the bags and finding the hair rubber bands, I braided my hair low and off to the side, and finally, finally, grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste.

I had thoroughly brushed my teeth three times and was reaching for the paste for the fourth time when Taylor’s hand caught my wrist to stop me. His expression was somewhat amused, but there was a hint of the apologetic look I’d seen this afternoon.

“It will still be here tomorrow. Three is enough.”

The hand that was holding the toothbrush fell dejectedly to the counter, but I knew he was right. I went about rinsing off the brush and my mouth before turning to look at him.

“What do I do with the soap and everything in the shower?”

“Leave it in there.”

“But, won’t someone take it? Or touch it, or something?”

He shook his head and put the rest of the new clothes in one bag before grabbing my old clothes and shoving them in another and tying it off. “This is my bathroom. If you’re not in it, they don’t have a reason to come in here.”

“Oh. Wait, this is your bathroom? So there are others? This is a house?”

“Somewhat.”

I waited for him to expand on his response, but when he didn’t, I followed him out of the bathroom and through a door to a bedroom filled with various workout machines and a bed that made my body yearn for it. I followed him inside and watched as he put the towel and bag with my old clothes down a chute, and when he saw me standing behind him, he gestured toward the rest of the room.

“This is my room.”

“Why don’t you sleep in here?” Better yet, why can’t I sleep in here? The mattress I’m on is thin and old as dirt. And at least in here there’s carpet instead of a concrete slab for him to sit on.

He looked at me but never responded. His dark eyes moved quickly back and forth as they searched my face. Ever since he’d come back with dinner, he’d been looking at me like he was making sure I was still there, or still okay. I didn’t understand it, and just as I was about to ask about the change in the last half hour, he breathed out deeply and turned to go back to my room.