Todd walked in the door just as Gilly finished setting the table with a red-and-white-checkered cloth and a set of lovely, Depression-era dishes and silverware she’d found in the drawer. Though the silver was tarnished and several of the plates cracked or chipped, she could only imagine what pieces like this would sell for in an antiques shop. Hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars. He paused in the doorway to sniff the air. Again, he reminded her of a hungry, loveless dog hanging around the kitchen door.
“Smells good.” He jingled the pocket of his sweatshirt, then took out her keys. He tossed them on the counter.
Gilly purposefully kept her eyes from them. “I hope you’re hungry,” she said flatly. “I made a lot.”
Todd pulled out his chair with a scrape that sent chills up her spine, like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Fucking starving.”
Gilly poured the spaghetti into the strainer she’d put in the sink. Clouds of steam billowed into her face and she closed her eyes against it. She scooped some onto a plate and went to the table, taking the seat across from him.
Todd didn’t serve himself, just stared at her expectantly. With a silent sigh she got up from her seat and took his plate to the sink, plopped a serving of spaghetti on top and splashed it with the sauce. She tossed a piece of garlic bread beside the spaghetti and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” At least he did have some manners.
They ate in silence interrupted only by the sounds of chewing and slurping. Surreptitiously Gilly watched the movement of his mouth as he gobbled pasta. A few days’ worth of beard stubbled his tawny cheeks, the dark hairs glinting reddish in the light from above.
“This is good.” He wiped his mouth with the napkin she’d folded next to his plate. “Really good.”
“Thank you.” Cleaning had made her hungry. She’d polished off a large plateful herself and now sat back, her stomach almost too full.
Todd burped loud and long, the kind of noise that at home would have earned a laugh followed by a reprimand. Gilly did neither. She sipped some water, watching him.
“Where did you go?”
“Out.”
She hadn’t really expected him to tell her. She sipped more water and wiped her mouth. Todd eyed her, his mouth full. He chewed and swallowed.
“Why’d you do this?” Todd twirled another forkful of spaghetti but didn’t eat it.
“To be nice,” Gilly said. There was more to it than that.
Todd’s eyes narrowed. He knew that. “Why?”
Only honesty would suffice. Gilly took a deep breath. “Because I’m hoping that if I’m nice to you, you’ll let me go home.”
Todd sat back in his chair, tipping it. “I can’t. You know my name. You know where we are. You’d tell someone. They’d come.”
Desperation slipped out in her voice. “I don’t know where we are, remember? You could blindfold me. Take me someplace far away, dump me off.”
Todd shook his head.
Her voice rose with tension. “I won’t tell anyone your name. Or anything. I’ll say I don’t know anything, I swear to you. If you let me go, I’ll…”
“Don’t you get it? I can’t ever let you go now. Not ever.” His hands clutched the tabletop. His face twisted in loathing. “Don’t you get it?”
“No! I don’t! You don’t want me here, so just…” Her voice broke, softened, slipped into a murmur. “Please, Todd. Please.”
Again, he shook his head. His voice got lower, too. “You say you won’t tell them anything, but even if you mean it, I know you will. You’ll have to. They’ll keep at you and keep at you. It’s what they fucking do, Gilly.”
“Who?”
“Them. The cops. Your therapist. Your fucking husband, I don’t know. Someone will want to know where the fuck you were, and with who, and you can’t tell me you won’t break down and tell them. You’ll spill it all, and I’ll be totally fucked. And I’ll tell you something,” Todd said, voice lower still, his body stiff and tense, “I won’t go back to jail.”
Gilly wasn’t surprised Todd had been to jail. He must’ve seen the lack of shock in her expression, because he looked first ashamed, then defiant. He lifted his chin at her.
“I mean it. Not going back. Ever. I can’t.”
“You should’ve thought of that before,” Gilly said under her breath but loud enough for him to hear her.
“You think I fucking didn’t?”
Gilly shrugged. “I don’t know what you thought. But you have to see that no matter what happens, you’re going to get caught, Todd. Whether you let me go or I get away.”
He studied her, dark eyes pulling her apart and leaving big gaps in the seams of her composure.
“No. I’ll do…whatever I have to.” The words were clipped and tight, his expression hard.
Gilly had thought the same. Whatever she had to, to survive. To get away from here and back to her family. If Todd was as desperate as she was—but she couldn’t let herself think about that right now. Couldn’t let herself be afraid.
Time spun out as they stared each other down. From the corner of her eye, Gilly spotted a glint of metal on the counter beside them. Though she tried not to let her eyes flicker, something in her gaze must have given her away. She saw it in his eyes, the sudden wariness that showed he knew what she was thinking.
Todd launched himself across the table as Gilly pushed back in her chair so hard it toppled to the floor. His fingers, not clenched now but stretched into grappling talons, scratched at her neck but didn’t gain purchase.
Gilly would’ve hit the floor if the wall hadn’t been so close behind her. Instead, she cracked the back of her head hard enough to see stars. She rolled along the short length of wall until she reached the opening to the living room. Her feet twisted on themselves and she almost fell, but her hand, grasping, found the edge of the counter, and she stayed upright. Her fingers clenched over the bundle of keys.
Todd moved fast, with swift, athletic grace, but Gilly had the thoughts of her children to fuel her. She turned, swiftly, as he grabbed at her. Keys bristled between her knuckles, and she sliced at him, hard. The metal slashed his cheek. He clapped a hand over the wound, which gushed bright blood.
He caught her just inside the living room and knocked her feet out from under her. Gilly hit the floor on her hands and knees, the keys still gripped tight in her fist. With a low growl, Todd grabbed her ankles and yanked her closer, scrabbling at the back of her shirt but not quite able to catch her.
Gilly rolled, kicking, as he loomed over her. Todd’s eyes glittered, fierce, the blood on his face like war paint. He grabbed the front of her shirt, tearing it.
She kicked him in the nuts.
