Page 42 of His Pet
AMELIA
It’s eleven, and he still isn’t home. I pull my cardigan tighter around me and glance toward the elevator. Real Housewives of Atlanta plays on the TV, but it’s only a distraction. I don’t hear a word the two women are saying and haven’t since I turned on the TV an hour ago.
I’m nervous. I swipe my hair from my face every few minutes and am too aware of every sensation. The cool floor on my bare feet. My cheeks kissed by gusts of wind sweeping through the open door to the balcony. The scratchy cardigan Jasmine got me for my birthday.
Eleven days ago, the day after that party, I looked into Lorenzo’s closet to see it there, along with several of my other belongings. Goosebumps had spread over my flesh when I thought about someone going through my things, but it also gave me a fraction of hope. There are cameras in my building, and people had to have known I was missing by then. Someone may have seen something.
It’s been days since my hope has fizzled out. Hope of someone finding me, at least. Surely Lorenzo is a suspect in my kidnapping, with the timing and all, but he’s a Gruco. I’m quickly learning that means something.
I bite my fingernails and walk to the balcony. Dread sits heavy as a bowling ball in my gut, and it gets heavier every minute Lorenzo isn’t here. It started forming at 6:31PM.
I can’t get over the feeling that something might have happened to him. No one even came up with lunch or dinner today, which I guess means he didn’t ask them to. It doesn’t matter. I gorged the last few days since he restocked the penthouse, and today I haven’t been near as hungry. It’s probably the anxiety.
I close my eyes and breathe in air from the Las Vegas skyline. I have an incredible view, but I’m not one for heights. When I come out here, it’s for the air.
The elevator chimes, and my eyes open wide. I spin around and tense, waiting to see who it is. At this point, it could be anyone.
The doors open to reveal Lorenzo, looking pristine in his suit as he casually strolls from the elevator. I walk back inside and let my cardigan fall loose as I meet him in the living room.
“Where were you?” I ask, my voice accusatory. It seems ridiculous hearing myself out loud, acting as if he owes me something. But consistency has been the thing he’s given me from the beginning, and I’ve begun to rely on it.
Lorenzo raises a brow and smiles, his canines gleaming. “Did you miss me, Kitty?”
I sigh and run my fingers through my hair, tousling the curly locks. My hair is a frizzy mess at this point. Relief eases the tension in my shoulders, and I release it in a breath.
Everything’s okay.
Lorenzo tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and tilts my chin to look at him. His brows are knitted, and his lips are pulled into a slight frown. “Did I scare you?”
“I just don’t like to be here by myself.” Unnecessary defensiveness filters into my tone. “And no one came today. What, did you forget about me?” I chuckle to downplay my distress, but it comes out forced. I step away from his touch, and he lets his hand fall to his side.
“No, I didn’t forget about you.” He waves a hand toward the kitchen. “The fridge is stocked with all the things you said you liked. I didn’t expect you to go on another hunger strike.”
“I didn’t.” I shake my head and shrug like it’s no big deal. “Never mind.” I glance toward the bathroom, feeling the need to get away from Lorenzo. It feels ridiculous to acknowledge, and I wouldneverdo it out loud, but my feelings are hurt. It’s bad enough for him to treat me like a pet. Now I’m a pet he doesn’t even want.
“I’m gonna go take a shower,” I say, taking a step that way.
He grabs my arm to stop me, and I look up at him as impassively as I can.
“Actually, we’re leaving.” He checks his watch then meets my eyes. “Soon. That’s why I was working late. I’m taking the next few days off and heading to a cabin I have a few hours from here. It’s nice. Peaceful. No one around to hear you scream.” He winks and smiles to show me he’s kidding, but I don’t think it’s funny. Not even a little.
“So go pack a bag. Whatever will fit in the two duffel bags I have at the top of the closet. Choose wisely. I’m having maids do some spring cleaning while we’re gone, and everything left will be thrown out.”
I narrow my eyes and study his face. Hix expression is relaxed. “Why?”
He smiles, one side of his lips lifting in a crooked grin. He cups my jaw and bends down to kiss my forehead. I’m used to the gesture, so I don’t flinch.
“Because I can buy you new things. Out with the old, in with the new. Now go pack,” He nods toward the bedroom and pulls his hand away. “I have a phone call to make, and then we need to hit the road.”
Without waiting for my response, he squeezes my shoulder and walks to the balcony. When he steps outside, he shuts the door behind him and pulls out a phone.
I watch him, my eyes narrowed and the bowling ball forming in my gut yet again. He isn’t acting like anything is wrong, so maybe I’m paranoid. It’s Thursday, so maybe this is him taking an early weekend. I don’t know. It just feels off.
His mouth moves with the cell phone pressed to his ear, and I turn and head for the bedroom. I stuff two bags with my things, mostly comfortable clothes. Yoga pants, tank tops, a jacket. I don’t imagine I’ll be needing designer clothes at this cabin, but I pack some anyway, the idea of them being thrown out too wasteful.
I throw in shampoo and conditioner and hesitate to grab my makeup bag. I haven’t worn makeup since I’ve been here, and I have no idea why they bothered to bring it for me. As if I’d feel the need to doll up for Lorenzo.
My cheeks redden when I think about the skirt I wore yesterday, and the time I took fixing my hair. I told myself I just wanted to feel less feral. I’m lying to myself, aren’t I?