If a glare could kill, Jacob would be dead now. But, no, Jacob picks up my lingerie from the table, then wearing them back to my body. I keep staring at him, wishing he’d be disappeared or, even better, dead. But, instead, he walks to my travel bag, opens the zip, searches for something inside, brings my tank top and hotpants, and places them on the bed.
After that, Jacob walks to the nightstand, opens the drawer, and retrieves a gun. Then, he throws something to the bed.
“Pick it up.” It’s the handcuff’s key. “After opening the handcuff, throw it to me.” Then Jacob holds the gun and directs it to me. “Get dressed now. We’ll be back to the police station.”
I follow his order. At least, Jacob lets me have decent clothes. I cannot imagine if I should go to the police station with only my
