Sunlight. It took my brain a minute to register that I was not actually dead. I gulped, deep breaths of air I pulled down into my lungs. I had been freed. The cord was cut from where it was attached to the headboard, but the rope was still attached to my wrists, a kitchen knife tossed carelessly on the floor.
Billy was passed out beside me on the bed, his breath heavy as he slept. I have to get out of here.
I stood and walked slowly to the bathroom. My legs felt like lead. I stopped short when I saw myself in the mirror. My hair was wild and disheveled, like I had been mugged. It was someone else looking back; this girl, the one with the welts on her neck, was not me. My fingers traced the red marks on my neck where Billy's hands had been.
Those will bruise. My father will kill him.
Then this sense of calm flowed through me, like I'd taken a Valium or something. Or whatever the hell Billy had given me last night to "relax."
As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, I went about my morning routine, showering and applying makeup, attempting to dot on a layer of concealer over the marks on my neck. I was eerily calm, detached, like Billy had not just wrapped his hands around my neck and squeezed.
As if he had not just tried to kill me.
I folded clothes carefully, put them in the Louis Vuitton duffle, periodically glancing at Billy just lying there asleep in my bed.
It would be so easy to pick up the knife and plunge it into his chest.
Instead, I slid it under the cords still looped around my wrists, the ugly welts underneath leaving a reminder of what had happened. It wasn’t like I’d be able to easily forget.
Slinging my duffel bag over my shoulder, I gave the apartment one last glance. It was probably a mistake leaving him here in my place, but it couldn't be helped. I scooped up his clothes, phone, and wallet, removing the cash before I tossed the rest of it in a dumpster in the parking lot. I'm not sure why I took his stuff. It’s not like he couldn’t get new everything; his family had more money than God. At least it would inconvenience him.
I tied a scarf around my hair, matching the one already around my neck, and got the fuck out of there.
“Daddy?” I pressed the cell phone close to my ear, cupped my hand around it, hoping he wouldn’t hear the sounds of traffic passing. I had pulled off on a side road on the way out of town, so traffic was minimal, but still, my father was a perceptive man.
“Dani? Don’t you have finals this week?” He asked the question like any of my friends’ fathers would, their doctor, lawyer, hedge fund manager fathers. Except my father was not the doctor-lawyer-hedge fund manager type.
“Yeah, finals.” My voice faltered. Tell him you finished early. Tell him what happened. Tell him you’re on your way home.
“Listen, Dani,” he said, before I could confess. “Something’s happened.”
My heart leapt. Did he know about Billy? He couldn’t, could he? My father was omnipresent, everywhere; I would never escape his grasp.
“Daddy, I-”
“No,” he said. “Don’t even start arguing with me. I’m sending someone for you.”
“What? No.” Had he been spying on me, bugged my place? I wouldn’t put it past him. That sounded exactly like something he would do.
“Don’t say anything until I finish. It’s important. It’s about the man who killed your mother.”
“What are you talking about?” No, no, no. This is not happening. “He’s in prison. You said.” Not that I’d ever believed that story, even when I was fourteen. My father would have killed him. A Cuban necktie, I’d heard him say back then. He didn’t think I knew what it meant.
“You’re in danger. Threats have been made.” There were always threats.
“I don’t need an escort,” I said. At least not from one of his thugs.
“This is non-negotiable.” Nothing was ever negotiable with my father. He would control everything in my life, always. It was a fact.
“I’m not finished with finals for a few days yet.” It just came out. Lying to him is dangerous, I reminded myself. Just tell him now. You’ll have to tell him when you get there. He’ll be livid.
“I’m sending someone tomorrow.”
“I’m twenty-one. I don’t need an escort,” I protested. I’d be home by the time he found out I was lying. The last thing on earth I was going to do was sit around here and wait, in the same place where Billy had tried to kill me.
“End of discussion, Dani.”