Unsightly Page 4

  Sighing, he sat on the edge of the bed. Scooting closer to the wall, I curled in on myself like a piece of origami. He wore the mask again, and it puzzled me. What was the point? I’d already seen his face. “Unfortunately, I can’t let you leave.” He said it the same way my parents used to tell me I couldn’t go out with friends or buy a new outfit. He said it like he had no option. But I knew he did. No one was forcing a gun to his head. He could let me leave if he wanted to.

  I almost said something to that affect, but then thought better of it. Baiting him wasn’t smart. No, I had to appeal to his humanness, to his sense of kindness. I had to play on his sympathies. And it wouldn’t be hard. My emotions were right at the surface like a fish skimming the top of the water.

  “Jasper,” I spoke softly, drawing my legs away from my body and laying them back down on the bed. “I’m really sorry about taking off your mask. I just wanted to know what you were hiding.”

  His shoulders stiffened. “Well, now you know.”

  “It was wrong, and it upset you.” I paused, sucking in a breath. “I made a mistake, but I don’t think it’s fair to be punished indefinitely.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “You think I’m keeping you here as punishment?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to hold you here, Layla. I hate this as much as you do.” I seriously doubted that. “But if I let you leave now, you’ll tell people about me, and I can’t have that.”

  “What if I promise not to?” I asked.

  His shoulders sagged. “I wish I could believe you, but it’s too much of a risk.”

  Nervous, I chewed on my lower lip. “I don’t understand. Who cares if I tell people? Everyone in town knows about you anyway. I’ve been hearing stories of you my entire life.”

  It was silent a moment. The only sounds were the creaking of the bed and the wind howling outside. I ran my hands up and down my arms.

  “Did you know who I was the entire time?” His words sliced through the quiet. There was something commanding about how he spoke. I imagined even if we met in another circumstance his voice would make me take notice. It wasn’t only the low timbre. It was the authority with which he spoke.

  I shook my head.

  “Why not? You said you’ve been hearing stories of me your entire life. Surely, the thought must’ve crossed your mind.”

  “No, it didn’t, because I never believed the stories,” I told him honestly. When I shifted on the bed, my foot accidentally brushed over his arm.

  “Geez. Your toes are freezing.” Reaching over, he gently placed the blanket over my legs and feet. It was such a sweet gesture I almost forgot what a monster he was for a second. But then he glanced up at me. When I got a full view of his mask, the memory of why I was here came flooding back. “See, that’s the thing. Many people don’t believe the stories, and the people who do are too scared to come looking for me. But if you go back to town and tell everyone you’ve been holed up here for over a month, I’m going to get a lot of unwanted visitors.”

  “But I won’t tell them anything bad. I’ll tell them you cared for me. You helped me recover,” I promised, hoping it would work.

  “You don’t get it.” His voice turned dark and sad. “You have no idea what it’s like to be me.” There was nothing I could say. He was right. I had no idea what his life was like. I’d never had to hide my face behind a mask. And, yes, people talked about me, but not the way they talked about him. I wasn’t the butt of jokes and tall tales. At least, not to my knowledge. “I don’t just wear this mask because I don’t want people to know who I am. I wear it because I know my face is hard to look at. I know it scared you. I could tell.” Shame burned through me. Had it been that obvious? “When I was little, Nina used to sometimes take me with her into town. You know, to the store or park or whatever. But whenever the townspeople got a look at me, they freaked out. Called me a monster or a beast. One time at the park, a mom shielded her child from me and demanded that Nina take her devil child out of there.” My heart ached for the cruelty of it. I tried to imagine how hard that would be to hear as a kid. It’s not like it was his fault he looked this way. “She couldn’t leave me alone when I was small, so that was when she started having me wear a mask. When I got old enough, I never left the forest.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “But maybe it will be different this time.”

  “No, it won’t.” He stood suddenly. “I knew it was a mistake to help you. I acted impulsively.”

  “Why did you?” I asked, partly because I was curious, but mostly because I didn’t want him to leave. I’d been holed up here alone in this room for two days and I was going insane. He may have been my captor, but this was the best conversation I’d had in a long time.

  “Because I was afraid if I didn’t, you’d die.”

  “See,” I pointed out, wanting him to understand. “You did a good thing. The townspeople will be happy about it. The only reason people have said bad things about you is because they’re scared. But if you show them that you’re a good person, that will change.”

  He froze, staring down at me. Lifting his arm, he peeled off the mask. I forced myself not to react, to stay in place and stare at him head on. I’m not going to lie. It was hard.

  “You think people are going to accept this?” He raised a brow. At least I think he did. Or maybe one was just higher than the other naturally. His face wasn’t symmetrical at all. “If you do, then you’re a lot more naïve than I thought.”

  I swallowed hard. There was no way I could tell him yes. It would be a lie. I thought about how protective Grant and Kevin were with me. And how my dad had always hated my boyfriends because he thought I should be treated like a princess. No one was ever good enough for daddy’s little girl. I’d been gone for over a month with no contact whatsoever with family or friends. Therefore, if I ever did make it back my family would want answers. And when they found out I’d been with Jasper, there’s no way they’d buy a story that I stayed here by my own choice.

  “That’s what I thought,” Jasper finally said, interpreting my silence.

  Leaning back, I blew out a frustrated breath. I thought I could get through to him, but it was clear now that it had been a dead end. Then a thought sparked. “I’m really close to my family, and I’m sure they’ve been looking for me. It’s only a matter of time before they end up here. I mean, my car’s here, and if they retrace my steps they’ll figure out which way I was driving that night.”

  “Your car isn’t an issue. I took care of that. And, even if your family is diligently looking for you, I’ve made sure the clues don’t point them in this direction.”

  My insides knotted. What did he mean by that? What clues? And where did they point to? I wanted to argue, to tell him that he was wrong, that my family would figure it out. But I wasn’t so sure. I had promised my parents I wouldn’t drive through the forest, so there’d be no reason to suspect that I had. This time when I leaned back, my stomach let out a low rumble.

  “You’re hungry. Have dinner with me.”

  “What?” Did he really think I’d eat with him after he basically admitted to sending my family on a wild goose chase? As nice as he pretended to be, the guy was clearly diabolical.

  “I won’t let you starve to death, Layla.” He shrugged. “Besides, I’m tired of eating alone.” Reaching up, he tugged the mask back down his face. “I know this isn’t where you want to be, and I’m sorry that you’re stuck here. But it’s been nice having someone besides Nina around.”

  At first his words bothered me, and I wondered if his loneliness was the real reason I was a prisoner in his home. But then I realized that I could use this to my advantage. Now I knew what I had to do to get out of here. I simply had to befriend Jasper. He wanted a companion. If I filled that role and got him to trust me, perhaps I could manipulate my way right out the front door.

  “Sure. I’d love to join you for dinner,” I answered. Besides
, it would be nice to be out of this stuffy room.

  “Actually, I will be joining you,” he clarified.

  “What’s the difference?”

  He reached for the doorknob. “I’ll be back with dinner. It should be ready by now. I think Nina had started it when I first came in.”

  Understanding washed over me, causing some of my earlier excitement to dwindle. “So, we’re eating in here?”

  He nodded before slipping out into the hallway and locking the door behind him. I tried not to get too discouraged. Jasper didn’t trust me yet, but he would. And when he did, I’d finally get what I wanted.

  5

  THE PLAN

  NINA WASN’T A terrible cook. Tonight, she’d roasted a chicken and fixed mashed potatoes. My favorite part was the salad, though. It was loaded with blue cheese crumbles, croutons, and tangy dressing. But mostly I liked it because it reminded me of home. My mom didn’t enjoy cooking, but she could toss together an amazing salad. She always threw in fancy cheeses, and she bought the best salad dressings. After my brothers went to college, Dad often worked late and Mom and I were alone in the evenings. She’d make us salad and we’d eat it while watching bad reality TV. My heart ached at the memory, and I wondered what Mom was doing in the evenings now. Grant and Kevin were home for the summer, so maybe they were hanging out with her, but I doubted it.

  Jasper and I sat cross-legged on the floor in the bedroom, plates balanced on our laps. Years ago, my parents took me to a Moroccan restaurant where we sat on the floor, surrounded by oversized pillows. I remember that it was fun and unique. This was nothing like that. This sucked.

  Spearing lettuce with my fork, I brought it up to my mouth. A piece fell off and floated down to the floor by my foot.

  “The hazards of eating on the floor,” Jasper joked.

  “Yeah,” I answered sourly. “It’s not the most comfortable.”

  “I can bring in a chair or a TV tray if you’d rather,” he offered. It was strange how in some ways he was so worried about my discomfort and in other ways he wasn’t at all.

  “It’s fine.” I waved away his suggestion. “Maybe sometime we could eat at the dining table.” It was a risk, but I couldn’t help myself.

  “Yes, sometime we will,” he responded.

  “Is the dining table where you normally eat? You and Nina?”

  “Not always, but every once in awhile.”

  I thought back to his story about when Nina would take him into town. “So, you’ve lived with Nina your entire life?”

  “Most of it, yes.” He picked apart a piece of the chicken. Watching him eat was difficult. He had to work hard to get the food into his mouth through the cutout in his mask. And frequently food particles stained the edges of the mask. He was quick to wipe it with the napkin, but then it left napkin residue. It would’ve been easier for him to eat without the mask, but deep down I was grateful that he left it on.

  “Who is Nina to you?” I had to know.

  “She’s my nurse.”

  “Your nurse? You have a personal nurse?” Perhaps his deformity caused health problems as well.

  “I guess.” He let out a half-hearted chuckle. “She was the nurse who helped deliver me.”

  “And then she raised you?” There was something I was missing. Something big.

  “Yes.”

  I waited for more, but didn’t get it.

  “What about you? Did you eat at a dining table back home?” He asked, switching subjects.

  “Sometimes.” It was all he was getting. I wasn’t discussing my life back home with him. It felt like a betrayal to my family. Besides, it was too painful.

  He must’ve sensed the change in the mood, because he didn’t press the issue. Instead, we both ate in silence for a few minutes. Forks scraped against plates, wind whistled through the trees outside, and Nina shuffled around in the kitchen. Again, I was struck with how quiet it was here.

  “What do you do for fun around here?” I asked Jasper after swallowing down a bite of potatoes. They were thick, and they coated my tongue and throat.

  Jasper set down his fork on the half-empty plate, the muscles in his arm bulging. He wore a tight grey t-shirt that showed off the tautness of his chest and the definition in his arm muscles. From the neck down, Jasper had it all. His body could’ve been splashed all over a magazine. In fact, his body was a lot nicer than Henry’s, and he prided himself on his body and all the work he’d put into it. When Jasper was in his mask, I could almost forget his deformity and pretend I was actually spending time with an attractive young man.

  “I play games,” he said.

  “Video games?” That was something I could understand. My brothers were addicted to videogames.

  “No. Board games. Card games.”

  “By yourself?” I was bewildered.

  “Sometimes, but often Nina joins me,” he said. “I also do a lot of reading and writing. And I have a garden out back that I tend to.”

  It sounded so boring, like he was living in the dark ages. “So, you don’t have any TV programs you like?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t even have a TV.”

  My mouth dropped open. “No TV? No phones? Next you’re gonna tell me you don’t have a computer.”

  “Nope. No computer.”

  “You’re kidding? But I thought you said you wrote.”

  “I do. By hand.” He pressed his index finger to his thumb as if he was holding a pencil.

  Stunned, a tiny laugh escaped through my lips. “That’s crazy. Why are you so against technology?”

  “I guess we just like things to be simple,” he said, and I wanted to believe him. But I didn’t. There was more to the story.

  However, I didn’t want to dwell on it. I was having a surprisingly good time with Jasper tonight, and I didn’t want anything to ruin it. I knew that soon he’d leave and I’d be alone in this dark and lonely room again. For now I wanted to savor the conversation and company.

  “Simple,” I repeated, a memory crashing over me. “I remember my mom saying that same thing once. She would get so angry with my brothers and me for being on our phones or computers all the time. So, one weekend she whisked our whole family to my grandparents’ cabin and she made us all unplug. We had to leave our cell phones at the door and we weren’t allowed to bring our laptops.” A smile spread across my face. “Even though we were all so upset at the prospect, it ended up being an amazing weekend. One of the best ones we’ve had.”

  “Your grandparents own a cabin? Is it around here?”

  I nodded. “In the mountains. That’s actually where I was coming from the night I ended up here. We had been celebrating my high school graduation.”

  A hush fell over the room, the weight of my words lingering in the air.

  Jasper sighed. Then he reached for his plate, and I knew our dinner had come to an end. Panic seized me.

  “Um…is there anything for dessert?” I’d never been a dessert eater, and I didn’t think I could fit anything else into my belly. But I couldn’t stand the thought of the night ending. I wasn’t ready to be alone.

  “I can go see.” He sounded surprised.

  I bit my lip. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll take the plates, and be back in a few.” He rounded up the plates and forks and then headed out of the room. It only took a few minutes for him to return. When he did, he held a bowl in his palm. “We didn’t have any dessert, but we had some strawberries.” He lowered the bowl down to me. “Sorry. It was the best I could do.” It was odd the way he apologized for not having dessert to give me when he was holding me hostage in his home. His polite manners and kind demeanor were at odds with his kidnapper status.

  My lips curled upward at the corners as I took the bowl into my hand. “Strawberries are my favorite. Thank you.”

  “Enjoy.” He turned around, walking toward the bedroom door.

  “You’re not staying?”

  Stopping, he craned his neck. “Do you want me to?�
�

  I nodded.

  “I guess I can for a little longer.”

  “Just a little longer, huh? You got a hot date or something?” I joked.

  “Yeah,” he chuckled. “With a book and a cup of hot tea.”

  “You sound like an old man.”

  “I often feel like one,” he said, lowering himself down onto the floor across from me. “Nina’s always called me an old soul.”

  I bit into a strawberry, and the sweet juices ran down my tongue and throat. “Want one?” I held out the bowl.

  He shook his head. “No, thank you.”

  “How old are you?” I asked the question I’d wanted to know for awhile.

  “Twenty,” he answered. “You?”

  “Eighteen.” I took another bite. “These strawberries are really good.”

  “They’re mine,” he said.

  “Yours?” I cocked an eyebrow. The taste of the strawberries still remained in my mouth.

  “Yes. From the garden out back.”

  “I’d love to see it,” I told him.

  “Maybe I’ll show it to you one day.”

  I’d been hoping for a more solid invitation, but I’d take it. Getting out of this room was one step closer to getting out of here altogether.

  ***

  The next morning Jasper brought me more strawberries. It beat the cereal Nina had left me earlier, and I ate the entire bowl as if it was the first time I’d ever eaten.

  Chuckling, Jasper reached out and touched my face. I flinched involuntarily, my pulse quickening. He drew back.

  “Sorry. You just had some juice on your chin.”

  “Oh.” I took a deep breath, my heart rate slowing. “That’s okay.”

  “You really like strawberries, huh?”

  “I thought I liked strawberries before, but these strawberries I love.”

  “I had no idea they were that good.”

  “You’ve never tried them?” I asked, stunned.

  “I don’t like strawberries.”

  “How could you not like strawberries?”

  “I actually don’t like any kind of berries. Too sweet.”