I listened to a shower’s spray for the next ten minutes, Kane humming something from an animated Disney movie as he washed himself clean. Of course, he was right about the knots at my wrists and ankles. They were secure, tight against my flesh, leaving me as his prisoner inside his cabin and under his malicious care.
Eventually, he returned to the bedroom. He wore a pair of jeans, a red-and-black flannel shirt, and thick hunting socks. He sat in the chair next to the cot, lit a joint, sucked on the tip of his plastic cigarillo, and blew smoke against my face, providing me with a secondhand buzz; not that I wanted it.
“I was sad your uncle died. He was a big part of my world. The cancer kept eating him from the inside out. I thought the m*******a I supplied him would save his life, but th
