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The Prisoner(25)

Author:B.A. Paris

The kitchen itself—a large room, a table down the center, chairs. And at the far end, glass doors leading to the outside, the sliding sort. If only I’d been able to reach them. But blinded by the light, I’d lost precious time waiting for my eyes to adjust. Next time, I promise myself. Because there will be a next time.

I don’t want to score another line on the wall, but I do it anyway. Day ten, Monday, the twenty-sixth of August, the day of my failed escape.

I leave the bathroom, return to my mattress. It hits me then, that I’m back here, back where I started, and I kick the wall in frustration.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

PAST

I strapped myself into my seat, my fingers fumbling on the buckle, nervous and excited at the same time, hardly able to believe that I was on my way to Las Vegas.

A hostess brought champagne.

“No, thank you,” I said, smiling at her.

Ned lifted the two glasses from the tray.

“Go on,” he said, handing me a glass. “You need to celebrate your first-ever flight. But there are soft drinks, if you prefer.”

“No, this is great.”

He clinked his glass against mine. “Here’s to the first of many flights.”

“Thank you.” I took a sip. The sensation of bubbles bursting on my tongue added to my excitement. It seemed surreal to be sitting on a private jet, drinking champagne. I wished Carolyn could see me. She didn’t even know I was on my way to Vegas; I had wanted to call her, but in the rush to get ready, I hadn’t had time.

I took my phone from my bag and turned to Ned.

“Would you mind taking a photo for me to send to Carolyn?”

“Of course.” He put his phone down on the table in front of him. “Do I know Carolyn?”

I raised my glass and smiled for the camera. “You met her at the Exclusives party. She’s a friend of Justine and Lina’s.”

“Ah yes, I remember now.”

I sent the photo to Carolyn, with the caption Guess where I am—on my way to Las Vegas! In a private jet, no less!

A message flashed on the screen of Ned’s phone. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a thumbs-up emoji from someone called Amos Kerrigan.

Ned picked up his phone, looked at the message, then drained his glass. “You’ll need to switch your phone to airplane mode,” he said, turning his off. “We’ll be taking off soon.”

I turned off my phone, thinking how surprised Carolyn would be to get my message. Ned pushed his chair back and yawned.

“I’m going to sleep,” he said. “Feel free to do the same.”

But I couldn’t, I was too excited.

We arrived in Las Vegas, and everything was like a dream. Ned had booked us into a mega hotel–casino complex. If I’d had to stay in my room all day, I wouldn’t have minded. It was enormous, with sliding doors that led onto a balcony almost as big as my studio apartment.

“What do you think?” Ned asked from the doorway as I peered over my balcony at an enormous swimming pool below.

“It’s amazing.” I turned to him. “Thank you for inviting me along, it’s so kind of you. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

Ned smiled. “I’m sure I won’t. In fact, I already know that you’re going to be a great help. Why don’t you unpack? Then we can have lunch. I’ll meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes.”

I unpacked quickly and sat down to send a message to Carolyn. I felt suddenly bad that I’d come all the way to Las Vegas without telling her. I’d had to pack in a rush—but was it because I thought she might dissuade me from coming that I hadn’t found two minutes to call her? I didn’t know why she might have tried to dissuade me, because she barely knew Ned. But the feeling was there, and I knew I would only feel better once I’d spoken to her.

But my phone wasn’t in my bag. My heart sank; I remembered putting it into the seat pocket after I’d switched it to airplane mode. I must have left it there.

Aware of Ned waiting for me, I took the elevator down to the lobby. There were so many restaurants to choose from that I was happy to let Ned decide.

“I think I left my phone on the plane,” I admitted, once we were sitting down.

“Don’t worry, when the plane lands in London, I can have it couriered back here.”

I paused, my glass halfway to my mouth. “You can’t do that, it would cost too much! It’s my fault I left it on the plane.”

He smiled. “I don’t mind. But it might take two or three days to get here, and we’ll probably be on our way back by then.”

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