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continue took a surprising amount of concentration, but I was finally able to open the door silently. Stepping out I saw that I was on the second floor of the lodge, looking past the railing in front of me I could see down into the main room.
    There was still no sign of Troy.
    Looking to either side of the walk I found the stairs down and slowly made my way towards them, clutching the railing desperately for support. Those stairs were going to be fun to navigate in my condition.
    Getting from the bed to the kitchen took the better part of an hour at the feeble pace I was moving, but it was the best I could manage. And, finally, when I turned into the kitchen an eternity later, my heart sank.
    Troy was watching me warily from a chair at the center island.
    Pausing just long enough to curse my luck I made myself continue forward, making my way towards the refrigerator. I felt his eyes on me the entire way but he said nothing as I finally reached my destination.
    Opening the door I couldn't help but smile. Insane he might be, but he certainly knew how to shop. My eyes were immediately drawn to two large packages of steak tips next to a towering stack of ribeyes.
    I grabbed both containers of steak tips and made my way to the nearest chair, unfortunately close to Troy but I didn't care. Sitting myself down I desperately tore into the plastic wrap on the first package and took out one
    of the morsels, popping it into my mouth. Raw.
    I had never tasted anything so wonderful in my life as that cold, raw beef.
    The minutes passed quickly as I devoured both packages of meat, the only noise was my chewing and the increasingly rare stomach growl. Troy watched in silence as I went back for a pile of ribeyes.
    He remained quiet when I went back for the rest.
    Minutes became hours and I showed little sign of stopping. As the meat ran low I began to rummage through the cupboards with one hand, tearing bites off of a steak with the other. I soon had a pot boiling on the stove, filled with several points of spaghetti.
    It was ready right about when I had eaten the last of the steak. I simply dumped a few containers of sauce into the pot and carried it back to the counter.
    "What are you?" Troy finally spoke, voice neutral as I dug into the pasta, eating it straight from the pot.
    "Hungry," I spoke between bites. It wasn't the answer he wanted, obviously, but it was the truth.
    "You should be dead from eating the barest fraction of what you already have. Not going for more." He watched me shoveling in more and more food.
    I just shrugged and continued eating, filling the void that had been my stomach.
    "You frighten me." Troy said softly, catching my attention. His eyes met mine and he looked away quickly. "I can't touch you. I wore gloves to move you." That was comforting, it seemed I had been able to fight back even while unconscious.
    "Then let me go." I had barely finished speaking before he was shaking his head.
    "No. You belong with me," his voice was confident, but he looked confused.
    "I belong with Liam," I couldn't quite keep the urgency from my voice, but he didn't seem to notice.
    "You aren't her," he spoke quietly and I braced myself. The last time he had said that he had attacked me, though this time he just looked sad. "You should be, but you aren't. Why aren't you? Everything breaks in the end." His voice trailed off as he stared at the floor.
    In spite of everything that had happened in the past few days I felt a slight twinge of sympathy. Troy wasn't specifically malicious, he wasn't doing this out of a desire to cause harm, he was just broken. It didn't make him one whit less dangerous though.
    "Who should I be?" I wanted to ask if he thought I should be Kristen, but the memory of the last time I had said her name stopped me.
    I let the question hang in the air as I ate, the time stretching on as I watched him warily. After a while I finally felt content and stopped shoveling food into my mouth, but Troy stayed unmoving.