"What's wrong?" Skye asked.
Kino tilted his head, watching him as if to say, "How stupid can you be?"
"What're you looking at?" he grumbled.
"Excuse me?" Skye said with a laugh.
He opened the cardboard lid of the container and waved away the steam. "I'm talking to Kino."
"Jon, you really gotta find a woman."
His mind instantly conjured up an image of Sheridan cuddling with her husband. "I'm too busy."
She lowered her voice, giving it a meaningful inflection. "Now that Sher's married, maybe you can move on."
Jonathan stifled a groan. Apparently, Skye hadn't missed as much as he'd hoped. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, really? Then what's going on between the two of you?"
He scowled at Kino, who tilted his head in the other direction.
"Nothing."
"Jonathan, she's heartbroken."
Did he want to hear this? No. Sheridan couldn't feel any worse than he did.
Getting a fork from the drawer, he poked at his lasagna, but he'd apparently turned it into a substance tougher than rubber.
So much for dinner, he thought, and tossed it in the garbage. "She's happily married. She'll get over it."
"And you?"
He grabbed a piece of bread and motioned his dog toward the door.
"I'll get over it, too."
The sound of the lock turning sent Sam scrambling to get under the mattress. If she didn't want Colin to see her in her swimsuit, it was her only option.
She'd heard about men who wanted to touch little girls in inappropriate places. It was all she'd been able to think about since Colin had come into the room last time. Anton called them pedophiles. Her mother called them scum, the lowest of the low. Colin seemed like scum to her. But Sam wasn't sure he was a pedophile. Could pedophiles be handsome young lawyers? Did they have beautiful wives like Tiffany?
Sam had seen part of a news show about older men who got in trouble for trying to hook up with girls her age over the Internet. Some of those men weren't completely ugly. She wished she could remember more about it, but she'd instantly put the whole idea out of her mind because she'd been so positive it could never happen to her. Sex was too gross to think about, even with a boy her age. And she hadn't been worried about Internet stalkers. Her mother wouldn't even let her have a MySpace page or go on Facebook.
The door opened and Sam caught a glimpse of a large dark shape before Colin blinded her by snapping on the light.
"What are you doing trying to hide?" he demanded.
Squinting against the brightness, she watched him come in and lock the door behind him. He had something in his hand....
Her heart dropped. It was a whip!
"Wh-what's that for?" she asked and felt tears immediately fill her eyes.
He caressed the leather handle. "This? Just for fun. Does it look like fun to you?"
"N-no. Not if--if you're going to hit me w-with it."
"That's the good news. Whether or not I use it is entirely up to you."
She pressed her palms into her eyes, trying to stop the tears. She couldn't sit there and blubber like a big baby. She had to convince him to let her go. "How is it--how is it up to me?"
"If you do as I say, I won't be forced to use it."
Oh, no. The lump in her throat grew to the size of a grapefruit. He was a pedophile. She could tell by the way he was looking at her, the way he was smiling.
"Please," she murmured. "Just leave me alone. I've never done anything to you. If you let me go, I swear, I-I'll never tell them it was you and Tiffany who...who locked me up. I'll say it was someone else, someone who...who was wearing a mask."
"Right. You'll blab it all as soon as you feel safe."
"I won't!" she said.
"Quit with the bullshit. You're not going anywhere. Now get out from under that mattress and let me take a look at you."
She didn't move. Her skin crawled at the thought of what he might do if he liked what he saw. "Why--why do you want to k-keep me here when you have such a--such a pretty wife?"
"That's a good question. I've asked myself that many times. But...I don't know. I guess it's for the same reason I own a whip. Because it's fun.
Now get up!"
"I can't. I'm s-sick. And if--if you come too close--"
"You've already warned me. So let me warn you." He kicked the mattress off her, and she instinctively curled up and tried to disappear into the seam between floor and wall. "If you refuse to respond to a direct command ever again, you won't have to worry about being sick because you'll be dead." He cracked the whip against the wall beside her, and the sound made her cry out.
"Shh," he snapped. "That's the first rule I'm going to teach you. No matter what, you have to be quiet."
Was there a chance anyone would hear her, even if she screamed?
He cracked the whip again. The tail of it flicked so close she could feel the air stir above her head. This time, she was too frightened to voice more than a terrified whimper. But even that was too much.
"I said be quiet!" His voice was a threatening growl.
The whip arced through the air again. Sam was sure it would hit her.
She saw it coming and braced for it by covering her head. Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound....
She heard it snap and waited for the pain to follow. She didn't see how he could've missed. But he had. Even he seemed surprised by that.
"You're lucky," he said. "My aim's not so good tonight." The leather slipped through his hands as he coiled it back up.
One tear after another streaked down her face. She couldn't stop them so she didn't try. "Why do you want to hurt me?" she whispered.
"You can't guess the answer to that?"
"No." She shook her head, helpless.
"And here I thought you were smart." His mouth twisted in a mean sort of grin. "I'll give you a hint. It's the same reason I own a whip."
"B-because it's fun?" she said, her voice trembling.
"There you go!" He put the whip under one arm so he could clap.
"Excellent. You and I will get along fine. I can already tell."
"Colin?" Tiffany interrupted by knocking at the door.
"What do you want?" he hollered back.
"Your father's on the phone."
"Tell him I'll call later."
There was a slight pause. "Are you sure? I was thinking it might be better if he believes you're available, that tonight is like any other night. You know, until the flap dies down. It is late..."