DEAD IN BED By Bailey Simms: The Complete Second Book

PART 9, AUTHOR'S NOTE - 2/9/15, 8:17pm

This might be a longer standoff than I'd thought.

The cop is obviously checking into Wattpad every morning, noon, and evening to see whether I've posted any updates to the sequel.

Every time he sees that I haven't written anything new, he slides my meal plate under the door and into the room without a word. 

For breakfast this morning he thought it would be cute to serve not a dead fly this time, but a single dead bee. Freak.

I shoved the plate back with another message:

KYLE IN ROOM = SEQUEL

For lunch, he really got creative and served up a dead mouse. Yeah, I know. Gross. Where was he getting these poor animals that I had to keep flushing down the toilet?

NO KYLE, NO SEQUEL

At dinner time, another plate came sliding under the door. I almost threw up when I opened it. Plopped down in the middle of the plate was a rubber.

Disgusting.

I was a little afraid that it may have actually been a used rubber, but I slammed the lid back down before I could tell.

I gave the plate a solid shove back out through the door. I heard it shatter against the opposite wall.

I'm feeling okay, though. I'm feeling better than I've felt since I got here. I mean, I'm really, really hungry. Sure. But at least I feel like I have some small amount of control over the situation because I'm not letting the cop just push me around.

And ever since I've been able to hear Kyle's faint tapping at the pipes, things just feel more bearable. I've put the pillow on the radiator, and I spend most of the day with my head resting on it. When I look out the window from that low perspective, I've even been able to just make out the little cottage I spotted when the cop had me outside. It's obviously totally abandoned. But I told Kyle about it. Now, in most of our messages we're playing this stupid game where we're imagining that we're alone in that cottage together, instead of locked away in separate rooms. Like I said, it's stupid, I know. But it's actually really comforting, too.

I can tap the radiator more easily than I can type. My hands aren't getting any better, but they don't seem any worse, either. Tomorrow this could change, I have no idea. I just have to take things one day at a time, like I always have. Story of my life.

All I know is that I'm determined more than ever not to back down from the cop. I don't care how many days I have to go without food before he finally lets me be with Kyle. But I know he will, eventually.

So, I'm really sorry, but there's just NO WAY anyone's going to see Part 9 before you first see an announcement that Kyle has been moved into the same room with me. It's not that I don't want to write it, because I do. Ashley's life is about to have all kinds of twists and turns. I'm really invested in the story, and it gave me a lot of much-needed peace writing the last installment. But, for now, I just can't write the next one, not yet.

I'm not giving up.

Will keep you updated. ttyl.