Stealing Kat

Thunder cracked loudly. Rain poured down, killing any chance of escape. My mind spun. Should I fight? Or keep her calm? Knowing escape wasn’t possible at that moment, I threw her a curveball. “Look, let’s just calm down and enjoy the storm. We both like storms, right? I’m getting hungry. How about I fix us sandwiches?” Brynn studied me, then looked at the bird-clock on the wall. “It’s a little early for lunch,” she said. “So what? I’m hungry. I’m eating now, whether you do or not.” “No, you’re not.” I froze. Was she planning to starve me? “Oh, you can eat,” she said. “But I’ll get it for you.” Trying to hide my frustration, I said, “Thanks. I have to pee really bad, though.” I went to the bathroom. Surprisingly, she didn’t stop me. Once inside, I yanked out my phone. No calls from Carol or Jenny. I dialed the police in hushed tones. “There’s an FBI agent holding me hostage. Send help,” I whispered, giving the address. I hung up, flushed the toilet, ran the sink, then checked my reflection. I looked ashen. I stepped out. Brynn looked stark raving mad. “Give me the fucking phone,” she said, holding out her hand.