Free Entangled by Cat Clarke Page A

first time in ages I was enjoying myself. It just felt so normal – talking to a boy, trying to work out if he liked me or not. Not-so-subconsciously mirroring his body language (trickier than it sounds on a cramped bus seat). To be perfectly honest, I was so bloody lonely that I think I’d have jumped at the chance to talk to anyone that night. But lucky for me, it was Nat. Luscious, butter-wouldn’t-melt, too-good-to-be-true Nat.
    My stop was coming up a lot faster than I’d have liked. I toyed with the idea of staying on the bus with Nat, but I was knackered. Plus, it’s always better to play hard to get in these situations. Assuming the boy actually wants to get you, of course.
    ‘Listen, my stop’s coming up. Thanks again for coming to my rescue. I’d like to pay you back somehow.’ I let that hang in the air for a moment before pressing on, ‘Could I maybe buy you a drink to say thanks?’ Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease say yes.
    Nat looked at me for a couple of seconds. I think he was a bit taken aback, poor love. And just when I was sure he was going to say, ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ he said, ‘That would be nice’ instead! It seemed a bit of an effort for him to get the words out, but I wasn’t going to dwell on that. I gave him my number, since I didn’t have my mobile on me (duh!). He promised to call, and I believed him. I practically skipped down the aisle. A quick glance back at the top of the stairs, but he was looking out of the window. Huh. Two can play the hard-to-get game, I suppose .
    That night I slept better than I had in ages. Of course I hadn’t forgotten about Sal – not even close. But at least now I had an alternative to think about. Whenever Sal popped up inside my head, I re-routed my brain down the path to Nat. It worked, sort of.

day 16

    The exercise is definitely doing me good. I really went for it today. I was running on the spot, sweating like a bastard, when Ethan came in. I stood there, hands on hips, breathing hard, waiting for him to speak first. ‘Don’t stop,’ he said. So I got down on the floor and started some sit-ups, watching Ethan as he took a seat at the table. He made no effort to look at the stack of paper there. His eyes never left mine. I counted thirty sit-ups, with us staring at each other the whole time. It definitely wasn’t normal.
    Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more staring, Ethan’s head drooped down to his chest. He’d fallen asleep. It was a moment or two before the realization fully kicked in. Ethan was asleep . There was nothing to stop me walking out the door. My heart thumped wildly. But then, maybe he was faking – testing me to see what I would do.
    I sat on the floor, straining to hear the sound of his breathing above my own. A snore or two would have been helpful. Maybe a little bit of drooling, just to be sure. I scooted over to him so that I could a get a better look at his face. His hair had fallen in front of his eyes, but I could see that they were closed. This was my chance. I could just make a run for it. Or rather, a creep for it. It could all be over in a matter of minutes, assuming the building wasn’t some kind of mad fortress.
    So what was stopping me? I wish I knew. Instead of scarpering, I sat back on the floor, with my legs tucked underneath me. And then I don’t know what possessed me, but I rested my head on Ethan’s thigh. I’d clearly lost my mind, but it felt … right. Ethan moaned a little bit and shifted his leg. I held my breath, certain that he would wake up. He didn’t.
    I don’t know how long I sat there – maybe twenty minutes? I couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep. It was bizarre. I mean, I’ve fallen asleep on the night bus a couple of times, but what kind of half-arsed kidnapper falls asleep, allowing the perfect opportunity for escape? And what kind of screwed-up girl has the perfect opportunity to escape but just sits there like some kind of lapdog?
    I came to my senses.