Chapter 8

Almost two weeks have gone by, and I am permitted to roam the house as long as I don't try anything stupid, of course. And by stupid, he means escaping.

There's no way for me too. I've tried everything. This house is a fortress but from inside. Once you are in, you aren't getting out.

I spend more and more time in the library. Not for books or anything. Only because no one comes in here.

For anything.

I'd rather be lonely than mingle with them!

Once I finish dusting the entire room, I notice the television. I turn it on and sit on the couch.

I am channel surfing when something catches my eye. CNN is reporting some breaking news, and my picture is on the screen! I immediately stand up and put the volume on high:

"She is about five foot seven and weighs one hundred and fifty pounds. If anyone sees her, please contact the police. We want her back! Safe and sound. I love you, Sam. Come back to us, baby!"

It's Max!

"...In other news..." Continues the anchor, "Senate-nominee Roger Olsen is still missing. His family had reported him missing a little over two months ago. Officials believe Olsen may have run away and is in hiding. He was last seen with his bodyguard and driver. They also haven't been found. With elections just a couple of months away, it's looks like Lori Baskins may win the race..."

Max and my parents are looking for me! I knew they would never give up hope!

I smile and turn the television off when it dawns on me. Look for a house phone. If not, someone here has a cell phone I can steal.

"We don't have a house phone." The voice comes from the doorway.

I freeze. It's my tormentor.

He is leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pocket. "Because of what I do for a living, no one here, aside from Freddie and I, has a phone. Before any of my workers enter this home, they leave their belongings with Freddie. These people are loyal to me. I help them and their families. So before you think you'll have anyone on your side, you're kidding yourself."

How did he know I was going to look for a phone?

I slowly turn to face him. He terrifies me down to my core. However, being scared isn't going to help me at the moment. Standing up to him will be my play right now. I have to get out of here.

Inhaling a shaky breath, I walk up to him. "Why are you doing this? Just give me something, please! I need to know what's going on. Why am I here?"

Unamused, he scratches his nose and walks to the desk, leaning on it. "It's nothing personal. You should appreciate my hospitality. Who wouldn't love to live here?"

He looks around the room. He's sarcastic, of course, but I can sense he's even lying to himself.

I sit on the camel-colored couch, to the left of him, as he crosses his arms and looks toward the painting behind the desk.

There's a hint of sadness in his eyes, but his face quickly changes to unemotional as he looks back at me.

"Can I at least know the name of the person who plans on killing me? I think it's only fair."

God knows how long I have been trapped here, and I don't even know his name.

My ungracious host leans back, crossing his legs, and stares at me for a couple of seconds. Not one time does he blink. His eyes feel like they will burn holes through mine.

He looks deep in thought. I am so scared to move, breathe, or even think. I decide to look down at my hands.

This is so uncomfortable.

"It's Ryder."

I immediately look up at him, stunned. After weeks, I finally have a name to his face. The man who is going to kill me!

He starts to look around again and then back at me.

"Do you like to read books?" He points to one of the shelves.

"What? Oh! No. It's the only place in the house that people aren't coming and going." I put my head down embarrassingly. Like he cares about my comfort.

Ryder laughs and scratches his head. "Well, no one goes in and out of your room. Is there something wrong with it?"

He's right. However, the room feels more like a prison than any other part of the house. "I don't like that room. As you may recall, someone locked me in it for almost a week."

"Oh. I see." Ryder nods and clears his throat. He smiles and sits forward. "Would you like better accommodations, Miss Hallowell?"

I note the sarcasm in his voice again. I am definitely going to play his game. Being harsh with him gets me nowhere. Maybe if I try a softer approach, a damsel in distress approach, a different outcome may develop.

"It depends." I lean forward also. "Since this is my home until you kill me, why don't I get a house tour? Every room though! And you can bring your gun, just in case you feel threatened," I say as I smirk.

I think back to when I made him bleed.

"You're cute when you act brave, Miss Hallowell. Want me to get you another butter knife?" He squints at me, pursing his lips.

I try not to laugh. He squints again and smiles. I notice his perfect set of teeth.

"Act? And no, thank you, Ryder. I sharpened my nails this morning."

His left eyebrow goes up.

I stand, and he follows. "After you, my assassin."

He winks at me and walks out of the library. I follow.

Finally! The ball is in my court.

"And this is bedroom number seven. Not much to it. As you can see, all the rooms look exactly alike."

I cautiously step around Ryder and walk into the room. I look around and agree with him. All the bedrooms are identical down to the black bedding. Everything is black and white—the same black marble flooring as the rest of the second floor.

I walk towards the window and lookout. It's a beautiful, sunny day outside.

"And your room?" I ask as I put my hands in my back pocket. He doesn't say anything, so I turn and look at him.

"It's off-limits and no, I will not show you. It is also my office. Again, no."

I walk towards the bed, disappointed. "But you agreed to a tour of the entire house. What's wrong with peeking? And no one can get in. I've seen the handprint thingy."

He gives me a puzzled looked. "Oh? You've tried getting into my room, haven't you? And it's a palm scanner. It keeps nosy mice out."

He steps into the room and crosses his arms over his chest.

I swallow hard as I see his massive arm muscles. I have to change the subject. Thinking sexually of someone who wants to kill me is not a good idea. I have to get into his room somehow!

"I am curious by nature and I'm trying to escape. Remember?"

Ryder smiles while shaking his head no. It's then that I notice how attractive he is and that he isn't always in the same suit.

All black.

Every day that I've been trapped here I see him with the same black suit. Today he has on a simple white t-shirt and blue jeans.

I look away, before I drool, and sit on the bed. "So," I say, looking at him up and down. "Is the suit your work outfit? Do you work today?"

"Well..."

Ryder takes a seat in front of the bed. "You are my current assignment. And I do have other job. I run a company."

That tidbit shocks me. "You own a company? So all of this just doesn't come from killing?" I look around the room. It sounds demented coming out of my mouth. This guy kills for a living and runs his own business?

He shakes his head, no.

"Can I ask how old are you? You seem so young to be running anything." I am a hypocrite. Max is about to run a company soon. Or maybe he already is? I lost track of time being stuck in this house.

He squints. "You're very nosy, you know that? And I'm thirty years old," Ryder says leaning forward, rubbing his hands together.

I roll my eyes. "I'm curious, that's all," I say, sighing and looking towards the window. I miss the outside world. "So have you ever not followed through with an assignment?"

Maybe he's let a few people go. I'm still surprised he's given me a house tour.

"Not that I can recall."

That makes me nervous. I try to smile at him—anything to not work me up and cry in front of Ryder. I am still terrified, though. He has that creepy, calm look on his face again.

"Have you ever brought anyone back here? To your home?" I ask, looking around the room again.

Ryder doesn't immediately answer but instead looks like he's thinking about something. "No, you're the first," he says, standing up angrily.

"I'm sorry if I offended you!" I say, jumping off the bed. He's about to walk out of the room when I stop him. "And I'll take this room! If you don't mind."

He nods without looking back and walks out.

I can go to go after him, but why should I do that? I don't care for that big, muscular psychopath. He can go and hideaway for all I care!

Of course, I'm not friendly with the guy, and I'm choosing this room on purpose. I want to be right next door to his bedroom/office. If there's a way out of this place, it will be through there. It has to be!

But then I start to think about his reaction to my question. Why did he storm off like that?

Later on that night, I can't sleep. This bed isn't as soft as the one from the previous room. Even the pillows feel wrong! I punch at it, making it more bearable. I will, for sure, have to change mattresses and pillows in the morning. For now, I will have to endure being uncomfortable.

I have been tossing and turning for almost two hours now. Right when I am finally finding my sleep, I'm instantly awakened by someone screaming!

It's faint, but I hear it. I jump up!

Is Ryder killing someone?!

It sounds like the person is in so much pain. They are not saying anything but the shrill of the noise has me scared. Where is the sound coming from? I look around the room when I hear the scream faintly again.

No! Wait. Is Ryder the one screaming?

I climb off of my bed and put my ear to the wall.

He is the one screaming!

It's Ryder!

I grab my robe and quickly run out of my room, heading over to his bedroom door. I hesitate as I stand before the black steel door.

Maybe someone is killing him?

Oh my god, no! Wait, wouldn't that be a good thing?

I knock on his door lightly. Ryder yells again, and this time I can hear it louder.

"Ryder, open the door! It's Samantha!! Hello!"

Knocking lightly isn't going to cut it. I start banging on the door. "Ryder please, open the door!"

I suddenly hear something fall. Then footsteps coming towards the door. I take a step back, not knowing who will open the door. Maybe this isn't the smartest thing to do.

I'm about to walk away when Ryder yanks the door open. Tears are in his eyes, and they're red. He is also dripping sweat. I've never seen a man distraught like this.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up," he says breath harshly as he wipes the tears from his eyes. He tries to compose himself, but he can't. He stands there, uncomfortably.

"No, forget about me! What's wrong? Are you okay?" I reach out and put my hand on his chest. His rapid breathing starts to calm itself. I remove my hand quickly when I realize he has no shirt on. The only garment he has on are black sweatpants.

I look behind him to make sure there isn't someone else.

Ryder suddenly turns around and walks deeper into his room. I'm left standing there. I cautiously peek inside. Should I walk in, I ask myself?

Definitely!

It's dark. The windows give illumination from the outside, thanks to the moon. I can see Ryder sitting on his bed on the other side of the room.

I begin to touch the wall, trying to find a switch, when I see a lamp. I struggle to turn it on, and when I do, my mouth drops. The lamp doesn't give off a lot of light, but it's enough to see the massive bedroom.

Ryder's bedroom is bigger than the first floor of my house. Everything is taupe and gray from what I can gather. Of course, the floor is black marble. He has a living room, bedroom, and office. The double doors to the office are left wide open.

I don't see the closet or bathroom, but I can only imagine how big they are.

I turn, looking for Ryder. He's still sitting on his bed, pouring himself some water from a glass pitcher. I exhale as I slowly make my way toward him.

"Does this happen every night?" I ask, walking up to him and taking a seat next to him on the bed.

"Why do you care?" He asks angrily, taking a sip of water.

Ouch!

Maybe I shouldn't pry. After all, my first mission is a success! I am in the lion's den.

"I can't imagine your line of work and having a peaceful night's rest." I rub my arm as I look around nervously and stand, trying not to look so obviously into his office.

Ryder scoffs. "Yeah, well, it comes with the job." He pours himself some more water and stands up. Ryder looks at me suspiciously as he sees me look again into the office. I immediately sit back on his bed.

What Ryder said hits me. Did he just say that? Who in their right mind thinks killing and no restful night sleep are acceptable?

"How can you think that way? It's called a choice! You don't have to go around killing people!"

"You think I like doing this?! I was born and bred into it. This world isn't cupcakes and rainbows, Samantha! We all don't get to work the hours we want and surround ourselves with daisies and lilies!"

Is that a dig at me? I instantly get furious.

Ryder starts to pace back and forth, putting his hand on his hip.

I stand up slowly. "You don't think I know that?! If that were the case, I'd be asleep in my bed right now! I wouldn't be talking to a psychopath hell-bent on making me miserable and then eventually killing me!"

Ryder stops and looks at me. He takes a giant step forward, standing right in front of me. Our faces inches apart.

"Life isn't fair! I'm the poster child for unfairness! I wish every goddamn day that my parents weren't assassins! That, someone, didn't kill them in front of me-"

He stops and looks away from me. It's kind of dark, but I swear I just saw a hint of pain in his eyes.

My heart drops. "I'm sorry. I didn't-" I take a step forward and immediately stop.

He looks at me and points his pinky finger at me, anger spreading throughout his face. "Don't you fucking do that, Sam! Don't feel sorry for me!"

Now I am hurt. "Why wouldn't I? You don't deserve to be in this mess! We both don't!"

Ryder gets in my face again. "Do not think I don't know why you are telling me this! You just don't want me to kill you!"

"This isn't about me! Stop it!" I yell.

"What?! All of a sudden, you care about me? Huh? Is that it?!"

Before I can open my mouth, Ryder turns and throws his glass cup against the wall, shattering it into hundreds of pieces! He then heads straight into his office, slamming the double doors.

I am left standing with my thoughts. What the hell just happened?!

This guy is beyond messed up. I never met anyone like him.

His emotional baggage is evident.

My priority is getting the hell away from him, but now I want him to open up to me. What is wrong with me?! Do I want to die here?

I walk to his office door and knock.

"Go away, Sam!" Ryder yells at me.

"I'm not going anywhere, Ryder! Even if I have to sleep on the floor. I'll probably never be able to walk again, but I'm not leaving!"

I exhale loudly as I sit on the cold, hard, marble floor. My back is against the door, and I cross my legs. This is going to be uncomfortable, but he needs someone.

Anyone.

Ryder needs me.

After what seems like forever, I can't take my ass hurting and my legs falling asleep anymore. I turn and bang on Ryder's office door.

No response.

Sighing, I decide I will just wait for him on his bed. He will not mind if I rest for a minute, right? Only until he comes out.

I get up and walk to his bed.

I didn't realize I fell asleep. I turn and look at the alarm clock.

It's 3 am.

It has been an hour and a half since I got up from the floor.

Is he still in his office? I shake my head and stretch. I still can't believe a grown man can throw a tantrum like that.

I turn over and kick something hard with my leg. My heart begins to race as I notice someone is in bed with me. Slowly sitting up, I notice who it is.

It's Ryder!

He is fast asleep and snoring lightly. His back is towards me.

I am so scared to move. Should I stay? Leave? Should I take a pillow and smother him with it?

Slowly removing the comforter off of me, I get out of bed. I turn and walk away when a hand grabs my shoulder.

I jump and turn. It's Ryder!

"Jesus! You scared me!" I say as I grab my chest.

How did he get out of bed that quickly?! I didn't even hear him!

"Could you stay?" Ryder swallows hard. I can tell he isn't comfortable begging. He looks towards the floor nervously and scratches his shoulder. "If you want, I'll take you out in the afternoon for some fresh air. Just lay back down, please."

Ryder had me with 'take you out.'

God only knows I need away from this place. Maybe I will even hatch a plan to escape.

Slowly nodding, I follow him back into bed.

This is insane! Lying with the enemy. Mom, if you could see me now.

I get under the covers and try to relax. It's not that hard either. Ryder's bed is very comfortable!

My back is facing him. Ryder starts to move slowly towards me until I feel his backside pressed up against mine. I squint in confusion.

Is this normal behavior? I'm terrified to breathe. What if he starts screaming in his sleep again? Do I wake him up again? Wasn't this man hired to kill me?

And now I am supposed to soothe him? Maybe I should leave.

I decide against it and close my eyes. Anything to postpone or even stop my death, I guess. A small smile forms on my lips. This will have to do.

"Goodnight, Ryder," I say, yawning.

"Night."