I looked back up at the bodyguard. “Isabella is.”
He finished chewing his bite. “I’m not supposed to talk about his family with you.”
For some reason that was better than him denying that Isabella was horrid. “What’s your name?”
“You can call me Miller.”
“Is that your first or last name?”
“It’s just what you should call me.”
That was vague. But Miller sounded like a last name to me. “What’s your first name?”
I could have sworn he was trying to hide a smile. “Eat your food, kid.”
Kid. I felt that stab in my heart as I remembered my uncle. Would that feeling ever go away? I got it when things reminded me of my mother too. It was like someone was following me around with a knife, constantly jabbing at my heart. I wasn’t sure it would ever stop.
“Fine. Make your call. Two minutes. Then you eat.” Miller slid his cell phone across the table. “But you’re staying here tonight. So there’s no point in asking someone to come get you.”
“Okay.” I grabbed his phone and slid out of my seat. I wasn’t allowed to ask someone to come get me. But that was fine. Because the only person I wanted to talk to right now was someone that would just show up anyway. Because that was what he always did. He’d figure out a way to get me out of here. He’d fix this. He had just as many resources as Mr. Pruitt. I dialed the number and put the phone up to my ear.
“Hello?” His voice was rigid and cold like he was in the middle of an argument. For a second I wasn’t even sure if it was him. But I’d memorized his number by heart.
“Matt?”
“Brooklyn? Is that you?” The anger in his tone was gone. It was just that familiar warmth I‘d grown used to. Hearing him say my name like that made my tears start again. I turned away from Miller so he wouldn’t see.
“It’s me.” I tried to stop my tears so I could have a coherent conversation. Recently Matt’s arms around me were the only thing that could calm me down. He’d held me as I fell asleep every night after my uncle’s death. I couldn’t be here tonight without him. I couldn’t do it. I needed him.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the Pruitt’s apartment.” Technically I didn’t ask him to come. But I could still feel Miller staring at me.
“I’ll be right there.”
I gripped the phone tighter in my hand. “Thank you.” Please hurry.
“Are you okay? He hasn’t hurt you?”
Was Mr. Pruitt violent? I gripped the phone even tighter. I wouldn’t put it past him. He was certainly uncaring. “I’m okay.” I looked over at Miller and my untouched food. I’m not. I’m really not. “He had a doctor run a few tests to make sure I’m his.”
I heard a car door slam. I’d never seen Matt drive before. He was always riding with James. I couldn’t imagine James assisting him in this, even though Matt swore James was sorry about what he’d done. Humiliating me in front of the whole school and then coming to my rescue? It didn’t seem like a realistic jump.
Matt’s parents had been at the funeral. Would they help? Would they even think this was an issue?
I heard Matt tell someone where to head.
“Are you with someone?” I asked.
“Rob. He borrowed James’ car.”
Something about the way he said borrowed sounded a lot more like stole.
“Don’t worry, Sanders!” Rob yelled. A car honked. “We’re coming to save you!”
Matt and Rob were coming to save me from being trapped in Isabella’s home. It was such a preposterous thought that I almost laughed. But instead “I love you,” tumbled out of my mouth.
There was a long awkward silence.
So long that my eyes burned. And my throat felt parched. And I couldn’t breathe.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” Matt said.
“Okay.” Maybe we could just pretend I never said it. I could take it back. I could…
“Brooklyn?”
“Yeah?” I closed my eyes tight, wishing I could rewind time.
“I love you too.”
I could already hear Rob making fun of him. The call ended, but I kept the phone pressed against my ear. Matthew Caldwell loved me. For just a second, my heart didn’t feel so broken.
Chapter 3
Thursday
I waited for Matt to come. And waited. And waited. Ten minutes turned to an hour. An hour to two. Two hours to three.