Carpe Diem (Sumettikul's Universe Two)

{8} You Love Me

“Have you searched your playroom?” I whisper.

Bible glances quickly at me, his brow creasing. “Yes, it’s locked—but Chen and I checked.”

I take a deep, cleansing breath.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” Bible asks.

“No.” Fatigue sweeps through me—I just want to go to bed.

“Come. Let me put you to bed. You look exhausted.” Bible’s expression softens.

I frown. Isn’t he coming, too? Does he want to sleep alone?

I’m relieved when he leads me into his bedroom. I place my bag on the chest of drawers and open it to empty the contents. I spy Mr. Young’s note.

“Here.” I pass it to Bible. “I don’t know if you want to read this. I want to ignore it.”

Bible scans it briefly and his jaw tenses.

“I’m not sure what blanks he can fill in,” He says dismissively. “I need to talk to Chen.” He gazes down at me. “Let me undress you.”

“Are you going to call the police about the car?” I ask as I turn around.

He sweeps my hair out of the way, his fingers softly grazing my naked chest, and undoes my shirt followed by my pants.

“No. I don’t want the police involved. Alex needs help, not police intervention, and I don’t want them here. We just have to double our efforts to find him.” He leans down and plants a gentle kiss on my shoulder.

“Go to bed,” He orders and then he’s gone.

I lie, staring at the ceiling, waiting for him to return. So much has happened today, so much to process.

Where to start?
•
•
•
I wake with a jolt—disorientated. Have I been asleep? Blinking in the dim glow the hallway casts through the slightly open bedroom door, I notice that Bible is not with me. Where is he? I glance up. Standing at the end of the bed is a shadow. A man, maybe? Dressed in black? It’s difficult to tell.

In my befuddled state, I reach across and switch on the bedside light, then turn back to look but there’s no one there. I shake my head. Did I imagine it? Dream it?

I sit up and look around the room, a vague, insidious unease gripping me—but I am quite alone.

I rub my face. What time is it? Where’s Bible? The alarm says it’s two fifteen in the morning.

Climbing groggily out of bed, I set off to hunt him down, disconcerted by my overactive imagination. I am seeing things now. It must be a reaction to the dramatic events of the evening.

The main room is empty, the only light emanating from the three pendulum lamps above the breakfast bar. But his study door is ajar, and I hear him on the phone.

“I don’t know why you’re calling at this hour. I have nothing to say to you...well, you can tell me now. You don’t have to leave a message.”

I stand motionless by the door, eavesdropping guiltily. Who is he talking to?

“No, you listen. I asked you, and now I am telling you. Leave him alone. He’s nothing to do with you. Do you understand?”

He sounds belligerent and angry. I hesitate to knock.

“I know you do. But I mean it, James. Leave him the fuck alone. Do I need to put it in triplicate for you? Are you hearing me?...good. Good night.” He slams the phone down on the desk.