32. DANIELLE
An entire day had passed since Landon had taken me, but it felt like an endless eternity. My sense of hope was fading, but I couldn’t let go of the last ounce of faith remaining, telling me that Alex or Cody would be able to find me.
I had no clue what time it was anymore, but it was undoubtedly late.
There was no longer any light squeezing through the cracks in the boarded-up windows.
It was a shadowy, oppressive space devoid of sound from downstairs.
I tried to force myself to go to sleep, but I couldn’t; I stayed awake trying to devise a plan to escape.
The first step was determining Landon's whereabouts in the house. If he were far enough from the stairs, or even asleep, I might be able to slip past unnoticed. I eased the door open and slipped into the hallway, wincing as the floorboards gave me away with every creak. The door wasn’t silent, either.
Pausing, I lingered in the doorway, one foot in the hall, one foot in the room, straining my ears to catch any sign that Landon was checking on me.
Nothing.
I tiptoed out and navigated the hallway, checking the rooms. Each one was a dark abyss that offered no hint of Landon's presence. After checking the final room, I opted to make a dash for the staircase. In the act of turning back, I collided with something looming in the shadows.
“Going somewhere?” Landon’s furious question cut through the darkness between us as his intimidating silhouette moved closer.
“Oh,” I fumbled for words as I edged back, step by step. “I was just looking for the bathroom.”
“Oh Danielle, do you really think I'm that fucking stupid?” Before I could muster a response, his hand struck against my face, plunging me into my own darkness.
When I regained consciousness, I was met with a persistent headache. As I blinked, the pain brought me back to full awareness, and I found myself back in the confines of my room, sprawled on the dusty, broken bed.
Getting to my feet, I faced the tarnished mirror hanging on the wall, its surface as fractured and weary as the woman Landon had managed to turn me back into. Yet again, another bruise from Landon. Was this my fate? Trapped in this abuse cycle until he inevitably kills me?
With no sign of salvation, I had to find a way to reach Cody and Alex.
I was clueless as to where I was, but then I remembered something Alex taught me back when I first started dating.
He was always so worried about dates gone awry, and while I thought he was nagging back then, he taught me something that might actually save me now.
Even if Landon was using a burner phone, I just had to get him the number, and he could find me.
The chance to get his phone was my only shot, and I had to risk my life to do it.
My plan was disturbed by the sound of Landon active in the kitchen again.
Judging by the scent of maple syrup in the air, it was morning.
The scent was more than tantalizing, causing my stomach to growl, yet the idea of sharing a meal with him was repugnant.
I sat on the bed, trying in vain to quell the grumbling in my stomach.
Realistically, I knew I had to eat to survive, especially if I wanted to hold out until Alex and Cody found me.
With a resigned sigh, I made my way downstairs and back into Hell.
The kitchen was a mess, but Landon had prepared everything—eggs, bacon, pancakes, and coffee.
The spread was tempting, yet accepting anything from him felt like conceding defeat.
If he had been like this all along, apart from the violence, things could have been different.
But his deranged mind would never understand that.
As I stepped forward, a floorboard creaked, and Landon turned, his eyes meeting mine.
“You know,” he muttered as he walked over and traced the bruise on my face with his thumb, “if you would just behave, shit like last night wouldn’t be necessary. But lies and attempted escapes? Un-fucking-acceptable.”
Silent and defiant, I brushed past him, grabbing a plate and piling food onto it.
I was starving. I shoveled food into my mouth, not even registering the taste of it, as I contemplated how to divert him from his phone.
Just twenty seconds to input Alex’s number and send a simple message.
Its content was irrelevant; Alex would discern that it was from me.
Or would he?
Maybe I could open Maps and take a screenshot of where we were and send it? But if I did that, it’d take twice as long, and I’d have to make sure I deleted the screenshot. It was too risky. Whatever I did, it needed to be done in just seconds.
I was so engrossed in my own plotting that I missed Landon scrutinizing me from across the table, hands laced in front of his mouth, brow furled as if he was trying to read my mind.
“What?” I snapped at him, shoving my face full of food.
“Something is brewing behind those eyes of yours, I can fucking see it, and I don’t fucking like it, Danielle.” Landon declared, his eyes locked onto mine, even as I broke the connection.
I realized then that I would have to play his twisted game if I wanted a chance to escape.
No more hostility, no more obvious attempts to get away from him.
The idea was repulsive, but it seemed to be the easiest way to get close enough to send Alex a message.
As I finished breakfast, I thought through the intricacies of my plan.
It had to be convincing, even if it meant enduring a facade for several days.
After eating, I retreated upstairs without saying a word. I sat on the bed, listening to the clatter of dishes below as Landon cleaned up, pondering my next move.
As if it had beckoned me, my attention snapped to the dress hanging in the closet. On impulse, and still without a formal plan, I slipped it on, attempting to make myself look presentable despite my disheveled hair and bruised face. With effort, I managed a semblance of decency.
After a final glance in the mirror, I lingered at the top of the stairs before forcing myself down, following the sounds of water running in the sink.
As I entered the kitchen, Landon still hadn’t noticed me over the sound of the running water.
My nerves were rattled, my hands were trembling, and my breath was coming in uneven, short bursts.
I managed to get within five feet of Landon before he became aware of my presence, raising his head from the sink, but not turning to face me.
Hesitant, I took a couple more steps toward him. Just then, he reached for his gun.
“Don’t!” I gasped as my heart began pounding so forcefully, I was afraid Landon could see it beating out of my chest. “I’m not trying to hurt you. Or escape.”
His hand eased away from the gun, but his focus remained fixed ahead, indifferent to my presence.
A tenseness settled between us as he returned to washing dishes, leaving me on the precipice of my plan.
Battling the rising nausea within me, I closed my eyes, drawing a deep breath for courage before acting.
Every careful step closed the distance between us until I was close enough to feel the warmth emanating from his body.
Landon carried on washing dishes until my hands found his waist. He must have heard the sound of my reluctance because he turned his head just enough to make me visible in his peripheral view.
He cocked an eyebrow, still waiting for me to slip up and give him a reason to pull his gun back out.
Forcing myself to calm down, I drew a deep breath, wrapping my arms around him, pulling him closer.
For a moment, Landon paused, drying his hands on his pants. He turned his head more, his eyes reading me from top to bottom in a slow appraisal, ending with a stark grin spreading across his face. He turned fully to face me, locking eyes and pulling me tight against him with one arm.
Our bodies were pressed together, and as I struggled to contain my fear, I still couldn't tell if he believed my act. Landon's right hand seized a handful of hair at the back of my head, his grip tightening, tugging my head back.
My thoughts went back to when Cody did the same, and I found myself analyzing how one simple act could feel like love with one person and so vile with another.
My heart raced—this could be the end. His eyes saw the fear in mine. Without warning, he guided my face toward his, kissing me with a firm hold on my hair. Momentary relief overpowered my disgust; whether or not my act had convinced him, for now, it was working.
Before I had a chance to react, both of Landon’s hands had my waist locked in his grip as he yanked me up onto one of the barstools at the counter.
I closed my eyes and let my mind wander as his irreverent hands ran all over my body. As he pulled the top of my dress down my arms, exposing myself to him, it took every bit of strength I could muster to keep from crying.
Landon’s lips took their time making their way from my mouth, then to my neck, before making their way to my chest.
“I knew eventually you’d see things my way,” Landon took his mouth off me long enough to remind me that I was giving in to a monster.
I closed my eyes and tried to think of Cody—his hands, his voice, the way he looked at me like I was something precious. But the memory kept fading, like trying to hold water in my hands.
Cody didn’t belong here. He was gentle.
I could feel his love in every touch. This wasn’t that. This was control.
Possession.
I wasn’t in my body. Not really.
I watched from somewhere else—high up, far away—as Landon unbuckled his belt with a sick sort of eagerness, muttering something about what used to be his. The sound had my chest collapsing in fear.
He lifted my skirt and yanked me toward him, pulling me to the edge of the counter like I was nothing. Each thrust was blunt and punishing, erasing me from the inside out. I stared past him, into nothing, watching the flecks of dust float down to the ground, where it was quiet.
Safe.
I couldn’t even fake it. Couldn’t force a sound, a response, anything.
It was like my skin didn’t fit right.
Every slow, agonizing minute that passed felt like cheating. I just needed to get through this, to survive it a little longer.
It was over, but the screaming inside my head remained. I stayed frozen in place, hoping the weight of what just happened would crush me. My body felt hollow and used as shame clung to my skin like sweat. I didn’t even have the energy to cry. I didn’t feel brave. I didn’t feel strong.
I felt gone. Like pieces of me had been left behind every time he touched me, and now there was nothing left to hold together.
I wasn’t ready to think. I just needed to breathe—to prove I still could.
I had been with Landon long enough to know that once he was done, he would take a shower immediately after. I used to hate that he would do it, but now, if I had any chance of getting his phone, it had to be in those few minutes.
I fixed my dress as Landon went upstairs to take a shower. Now was my chance. Once he walked up the stairs, I checked his jacket. No phone.
Shit, he has it with him.
I panicked as I tried to formulate a new plan, but I knew I wouldn’t have any chances after this. I was losing my hope faster than Landon was losing his grasp on reality. There was only one thing I could do—I had to risk everything to sneak into the bathroom while he was showering.
I tiptoed up the stairs, begging the floorboards to stay silent under me.
The shower, aged and noisy, aided in masking my approach with its clattering pipes and the screech of water.
Every step had to be swift and soft; anything less would shatter the plan I had pieced together.
I nudged the door open, careful to avoid any creaking.
Landon's visibility was blocked by the thick, dark shower curtain, granting me the few precious seconds I needed.
I spotted his pants crumpled on the floor by the sink, and with deliberate caution, crouched down and reached into the front pocket.
Found it.
I opened the messages, typed in Alex's number as fast as my fingers could manage, and hit send.
Seeing ‘sent’ at the bottom was almost enough to bring tears to my eyes, but there was no time for celebrating.
I slid the phone back into his pocket with precision, trying to remain undetected as I ensured I had left everything exactly as I had found it.
I was almost clear, but as I stood up, my hand knocked something into the sink, putting an abrupt end to my stealth.
“What are you doing in here?” Landon growled, already suspicious. There was only one way to make this believable.
“I just thought,” I started, but Landon cut me off before I could finish.
“You thought what, Danielle?” His impatience exploded as he waited for an explanation.
“I just thought that I could join you in the shower.” I waited for him to answer. For a moment, he just stared right through me, searching my mind for whatever game he thought I might be playing. After a quick thought, he gave me that mischievous grin that I used to love.
Now, it sickened me.
“Get the fuck in here then.”
Despite the turmoil of my actions, knowing I'd sent the message made undressing and stepping into the shower almost bearable. I let the steaming hot water numb me while I avoided making eye contact with Landon. For ten minutes, I allowed my mind to drift to a different place, momentarily escaping the reality that Landon was once again burying his cock where it didn’t belong, until I heard the water shut off.
Landon left the shower, grabbing a towel without a word, returning to his room with his clothes in his hand.
I lingered in front of the foggy mirror, staring at my reflection. Would Alex and Cody find me? Would I die here? Could I maintain this charade with Landon?
Out of the silence, the sound of hurried footsteps barreled down the hallway, heading straight for me. Before I could react, the door burst open, crashing against the wall. Raw terror took over as I tried to retreat to the far corner of the bathroom, but it was too late.
"Landon..." He charged at me just as I realized my mistake—I hadn’t deleted the text I had sent to Alex.
"You stupid FUCKING bitch!" His words punctuated the air as his fist collided with my face, sending me backward, headfirst into the ledge of the tub.
The last thing I remembered before embracing death was the taste of blood in my mouth.