He was an unknown. He was something she didn't quite understand. She couldn't figure out where he was coming from or what it was that he wanted, and she hated that not knowing. If he could tell her that he was going to torture her or hit her, then she’d be able to mentally prepare for that. As it was, she wasn’t sure whether she should be laughing or crying or relieved or scared. She needed a clue.
"It seemed like you were trying to escape from Kellen's mansion," the man finally said. He stayed perfectly still. He seemed like he was in no rush at all. Why was that so calming to her?
"Okay." Zoa whispered the word.
Okay.
She was acknowledging what he had said. He noticed she was trying to escape, and that was true. He’d helped her. She still didn’t know why
He raised an eyebrow and waited. He kept watching her. The man didn’t move his eyes away, but he wasn’t staring at her in a creepy way. He just looked like he was giving her a chance to formulate her thoughts.
Fuck, this guy was patient as hell. How'd he get to be so patient? In Zoa's life, she could get pretty much anything by out-waiting other people. Most of the time, people got tired of waiting after just a few seconds of awkward silence. Nobody liked the idea of being socially uncool, so after a moment or two, people always tried to fill that silence with words.
That tactic wasn't going to work with this dude, she realized. He wasn't going to make it easy on her. He was used to being patient, for some reason. She didn’t know what that reason might be.
"Yes," she finally said. "I was trying to escape." There. She’d admitted it. She’d told the truth to this stranger.
"Why?"
He still hadn't moved. She realized he was doing that on purpose. He wanted her to be comfortable. Why? Why was he concerned with her comfort? Maybe he wanted her to be calm. Maybe he thought that if he stayed perfectly still that she wouldn't freak out. Well, it was working. She wasn’t panicking. If he’d been moving or talking more, she would have already tried to run. She could feel it in her bones. She was smart enough to know that whatever this guy was, he was fast. Even if she ran, she wouldn’t get very far from him.
"Because he kidnapped me," she finally said.
It was the first time she'd said the words out loud, and they were just as horrifying as she thought they were. Oh, she knew she wasn't a child. Kidnapping wasn't really the right word, was it?
Abducted.
She'd been abducted by a psycho, and this man had saved her.
"Tell me what happened," the man said gently.
Zoa stared. She bit her lip, and she closed her eyes, and she took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she looked at the man. He seemed so gentle. He was asking such a small thing of her, too. He just wanted to know her story. He wanted her to share it with him.
Could she do that?
For him?
She didn't want to trust him. She wanted to believe he was just another monster, but there was something about him that really was different. She wanted to know what that was. His question, his request, had been so simple. She took a deep breath. She could do this. She could share who she was with him. She could tell him what had happened to her.
"I lost my job," she whispered.
She expected him to say I'm sorry or to offer some sort of condolence, but he didn't. He stayed quiet, and somehow that was easier. If he had interrupted her, even to offer an apology for her unfortunate circumstances, she would feel the need to ramble. As it was, he was giving her the opportunity to just share the specifics. She could tell him as much or as little as she wanted. There was no judgment or commentary coming from him.
"It wasn't my fault," she said. That didn't make her feel better. It was the truth, though. "Someone framed me for something. My boss...he made me the fall guy for his son's mistake. It was brutal. The boss' son lost us a big client and they pinned it on me, so I was fired. The worst part was that even though it wasn't a criminal act, it didn’t matter. In my profession, if word gets around in town that you can't be trusted, and it's impossible to find a job."
That was what had happened to her. Her boss had called every accounting firm within two hundred miles and said not to hire Zoa. It had been very effective, she thought.
Zoa’s rescuer still didn’t speak. He waited. His silence was calming to Zoa, and she found herself talking more. She felt a little freer to express herself and to tell him exactly what she was thinking. He wasn’t interrupting and asking questions, so she didn’t have to worry about explaining things in more detail. She just said what she was thinking.
"After that, I kept trying to find jobs, but I couldn't. My landlord wasn't exactly forgiving when I didn't have the ability to pay rent anymore, so I ended up in my car."
That memory made her blush. She’d always taken pride in being good with money. That was something her parents had instilled in her. She didn’t like to carry debt, and she wasn’t afraid of hard work. Despite her dedication to her career, though, she’d ended up homeless. It was embarrassing.
Humiliating.
She was 28 years old. She was old enough to have a real career, and a life that she liked. She’d been well on her way to reaching her goals, but she'd lost it all.
Everything.