Isolated

Chapter 79

Chapter 79

After going to the bathroom (my bladder made me buckle and ask for a toilet), it was time for dinner. Men trailed behind us as I walked beside Reid down the numerous white and brightly-lit hallways. Cameras were strung in the corners of the ceiling. There was some demented art hanging every couple yards along the walls. Some were just abstract weird paintings. Others were photographs of women posing. The women were either naked or in lingerie, bound or unbound, with some writing under each large framed photo. Better not fucking happen to me, that's all I could think. It made me want to cover my cleavage... if only there were more buttons on my blouse.

Eventually, we reached the dining room and it was just psycho and me. When I entered, my heels no longer felt welcome. Stepping onto the plush white carpet, the room was long. It was the perfect size to support one very long table too. The rectangular dark table was surrounded with maybe over a dozen chairs. There was a huge red and brown patterned rug under the chairs and table too. So, if I get sloppy and spill food, it will be all over the rug and not the white carpet. Damn.

The most notable thing was the massive window against the back wall. Adjacent to the wide walls covered in art, there was a huge window split up into six vertical panels. It was framed with a red curtain, parted on each side, allowing the setting sun to light the room in orange. Reid neared the window where the head of the table was. I followed and looked outside, taking in an open grassy area with scattered trees.

"You see, our entire operation isn't underground," he said, pulling out the chair that was next to the one on the end. Showered in the orange light, he waved a hand towards the seat. "Please. Sit. The food will be out in a moment."

"Not like I'll be eating anyway." Sighing, I rounded the table and plopped down.

Reid took the seat adjacent to me at the head of the table, his back to the window. The light still allowed me to see the spark in his eyes. The excitement, the joy, yet the appreciation and his pride. I couldn't stand it. I really could not fucking stand the weird combinations and mixtures of emotions in this guy's expression. It was a constant contradiction and confused me. So did his words.

Eyes on me for a long silent second, he then spoke in a nonchalant voice. "You know, you'll find I'm not the monster you thought I was. You'll come to like me and this new life. Knowing you, it will take a very long time, but until then I'm excited to experience the untouched and raw form of you and your stubbornness."

Another thing I hated about this guy: he truly did enjoy me as a person. He thrived in who I was. My nature to fight, mouth off, and not give a fuck. So instinctively, I didn't want to be myself and give him that satisfaction. Who am I kidding though. It was only a matter of time until I clip him in the face or be a smart ass.

Resting against the back of the chair, I stretched my legs out before me and crossed my ankles. Might as well get comfortable. We'll be here for a while. The guy was going to milk his time with me as much as he could. Guess that's the price I need to pay for being so damn cool and popular though.

He sat back too, arm outstretching on the table. It crossed through the ray of light, the dressy material of his shirt turning orange as he tapped his fingers against the wood. "It's okay to ask questions, you know."

His blank uncaring tone almost convinced me, but I stared at him with suspicion. "I could care less to ask questions."

Just then, a different door open on the other side of the room. A man wearing a suit walked in, carrying a large silver tray with one hand and the help of his shoulder. His eyes met mine for a moment before looking down at his moving feet. Then, he set the large tray on the table in front of us. On it, there was a large serving plate full of spaghetti noodles, a huge bowl of sauce, and a plate that was stacked high with garlic bread. The tray also held our silverware and plates.