33. Claire
Chapter thirty-three
Claire
The shrill ringing is so loud, I can’t even hear myself screaming. I’m not even sure if I am, anymore, because I’ve pressed my arms so tightly over my ears that I begin to think the ringing is in my head.
I don’t know if I should be relieved that I triggered the alarm or not. A fire alarm should mean first responders, which means freedom, but what if he beats them down here?
The spray that washes over my skin is cold, and rather than offering me comfort as the water usually does, it’s just one more thing contributing to the sensory overload about to combust within me. So, I close my eyes, shutting out the strobing red light, the dank walls that come into view as the alarm haze flashes over them, the horrid screeching in my ears. I focus only on the sprinklers as they splash over me, the water droplets beading on my skin.
I’m barely lucid, retreated so far into a dark, safe place in my head that I almost forget where I am. Maybe I even do forget a little bit, before the sudden jerking sensation, the falling feeling, jolts me awake.
The crash is loud enough to cut into the screeching alarm, and it knocks me off my feet as I’m pulled backwards with it, the chain around my neck tightening. For one horrifying minute, I think I’m being dragged upwards, that I’m about to strangle.
And then he’s there, standing right above me. I can’t hear anything beyond the wail of the alarm, but I can tell by the way his mouth moves and the rage in his eyes that he’s screaming, furious. He drops his weight on me— a hand across the face sends rippling pain over my cheek, and then I see the wrench in his other hand just as he brings it through the air. Instinct guides my hands to cover my face.
Though I don’t get enough slack to keep the blow from glancing off my head, it hits almost perfectly between my wrists.
Maybe the impact of the fall let the link at my wrists loosen, and his attempt to shut me up with the heavy iron actually breaks the chain. Maybe I have a sadistic guardian angel who isn’t yet ready to let me out of this cruel misery. However it happens, I feel the release as my wrists are freed, so I scramble to grab the chain before it falls away as my captor seems to get his bearings back. He’s even less used to the darkness than me, which is my only advantage.
I don’t know what his play is right now—maybe the alarm isn’t backed up to a fire station. Maybe it isn’t as loud as it feels. I don’t know if he means to kill me or just shut me up for a minute, but he’s already told me he’s playing for keeps. So, I do the same, gripping the chain that was wrapped around my wrists, pulling it taut between my hands.
He’s too busy trying to scramble for the wrench he lost control of to notice, and when he gets it in his hands, he turns back to me, and I see the objective. He doesn’t want to kill me—he wants me to suffer, slowly, painfully. He wants to break me apart bit by bit; he’s already begun. My ploy for freedom has angered him, but he is controlled enough that he isn’t willing to sacrifice weeks or months of fun with me for the sake of it.
But I am. I’m willing to die to spite him. He drops the wrench like he’s had a better thought and fumbles in his pocket for something, slipping it into his palm as his hand comes down to cover my tender nose and mouth.
A sudden tugging at my neck tells me exactly what he took from his pocket—a remote. It drags me steadily and slowly backwards across the cold and wet ground, and he moves over me, the strobing red light making his cruel eyes seem so much more malicious .
But I’m a killer, too. And there’s no time like the present to remember it. In one fluid motion, I get the chain around the back of his neck and wrap it tightly around it, pulling so hard that his fear is immediate, visceral. His hand leaves my face to claw at the chain, but it does little to allow me to breathe… just as it does little to allow him to pry his away.
“Let’s see who can hold out longer.” I hiss, even knowing that he can’t hear me.
He wanted to fuck with me, not kill me. I want to kill him, and I’ve got the chain in just the right spot to do it. I don’t let it drop even as his eyes bug out of his head, desperate with fear and the pressure I’m forcing into two directions.
I catch glimpses of his struggle in the strobing red light—his tongue poking out from behind his lips, trying to scream for mercy he wouldn’t give me, his eyes wide with terror that he stoked in me.
I’ve linked my fingers through the ends of the chain, and I pull them so hard in opposite directions that I think my fingers may fall off. I welcome it before his body goes limp, easing against me even as he still fights slowly, his motions becoming jauntier, less coordinated. He weighs me down, his body pinning mine to the cement, and I choke the life out of him with intention.
I watch as the life leaves his eyes, as they flutter with his fight to stay awake. I watch him succumb, his neck dropping at the same time as his hands, until only I’m keeping him up by the chain in hand. I feel the warmth spread out around me when he pisses himself over top of me, like he just wants to land one last hit. And I think I feel the minute his soul is gone, ferried away to whatever Hell exists for monsters like him.
I’m shaking when I drop the chain, but I won’t let it go just in case he’s still alive. I waste no time bucking him off me, though. He falls to the ground without ceremony .
I turn behind me to get a look at whatever he had me attached to—a massive spool of chain, clicking and groaning as it pulls me toward it.
It’s going to strangle me.
Panic tries to ignite in my veins, but it’s blunted by the common sense that I need to get out of this. My feet gain no traction on the ground, slipping in the water and piss, a useless attempt to slow myself down. I reach behind my neck, forcing my fingers beneath the chain, trying to pry it away with all my might. But when my fingers graze over the cool metal, I know it’s useless. He fucking padlocked me to this thing, and now the motor is reeling me in like brush into a woodchipper.
The flame behind me flickers and grows despite the water raining down upon it, sparking over wires that are sticking out of what I presume to be his control panel. It’s my last hope, and it’s so wild and desperate that I lunge at it, blindly feeling for a button, a lever, anything.
The touch sends a shock straight through me, racing up my fingertips, tracing a path through my stomach, and zipping out my toes. For a moment, I can’t move, can’t breathe, every part of me on lock as I’m dragged, nearly lifeless across the wet floor.
And then the grinding sound of the chain coiling turns to a whine, the movement slows, and the tugging stops, leaving me breathless, flat on my back as I try to catch my breath.
The world’s gone quiet, peaceful in a way, as I stare up at the ceiling, the darkness no longer suffocating. In fact, it’s actually kind of comforting, a welcoming difference from the angry red lights flashing in the edges of my peripherals.
There’s no more fear or cold as I lie there and focus on breathing freely for the first time in too long.
I am darkness, and for once, I’m at peace with it.
I don’t realize my eyes have closed until they’re fluttering open, surprised at the sudden warmth on my skin, the touch. The light overhead makes me blink hard against it, turning and expecting to see my captor, my father, my mother’s rapist.
I don’t even recognize the man looking down at me, just as I don’t hear the words that are falling from his lips, which are moving rapidly, opening and closing around words that I’m not sure are meant for me.
When he scoops me up, I expect to feel the weight of the chain drag me back, but it doesn’t. I’m weightless in his arms, and it occurs to me that I’m somewhere between consciousness and not. I feel myself bounce against his chest with every step, a little of the chain still holding fast to my mind falling away with each stair we ascend.
By the time we reach the top of the staircase, awareness has me putting my fragmented thoughts together enough to realize I know the man who picked me up… the man who hasn’t yet set me down.
“No.” It comes out as a whisper, but seconds later, it’s a cry. I dig my nails into the skin at his neck, his arms, trying to push out of his grip. “No!”
“It’s okay!” He says, ignoring my pleas. “I’ve got you. You’re alright.”
“NO!” I push out of his arms, taking him by surprise so that he doesn’t have a chance to try and restrain me.
I can see the confusion on the senator’s face as I land on my side and scramble quickly to my feet, all without removing my eyes from him. I’ve got control of my hands again, my arms no longer tethered behind me, but my limbs feel too heavy to be of any use.
“Get away from me!” I warn him, trying to put distance between us as I take a step back—and he immediately takes one forward.
The alarm has stopped screaming, and all around the upstairs where we stand in a grand foyer, water is pooled across the wood floor. The man who took me isn’t anywhere that I can see .
“Stay right there!” I warn him, before the senator can take another step toward me. He’s got his hands out, like he’s making to catch a fly between his bare palms.
“I’m here to help. Dimitri called, he sent me here. He…” The senator pauses to catch his breath. That’s when I notice the red streaks on his shirt. I think it’s when he does, too. “You’re hurt. Let me help.”
“I don’t need your help!” I yell, cutting a glance at the door.
What was it my captor had said? Any one of thirty men could be my father. He’d simply taken what was offered…
“How did you get in here?” I demand, looking around for the man who’d lured me here from the start. “How did you have a key?”
“The owner of the house is an associate of mine.” He says, though it sounds more like a question than anything. “I know the door code.”
I can hear sirens in the distance, growing in pitch as they draw near. The fire still blazes through the darkness of the basement in my peripheral vision, but it’s blurry and tinged red, like the blood I shed is staining the whole world. “How did you have a key for the chain around my neck?”
“I didn’t.” He frowns. “I used bolt cutters to break it. What… how did you end up here?”
He doesn’t deserve an answer, and I won’t give him one. He can’t really expect me to believe Dimitri is such good friends with him that he’d call and ask him to walk into a situation he really had no idea about? I’m not buying it.
The sirens grow louder, and I hear the sound of vehicles approaching. “Dimitri is on his way—”
The senator shakes his head slowly, his eyes flickering to the door. I’m sure he’s assessing the situation, trying to come up with an explanation that will make sense to whatever authorities arrive. “Let me help you outside. You need to be taken to the hospital. ”
“I don’t need anything from you!” I snap, making a quick move toward the open door.
Sunlight spills in from the open door, and in the middle of all of it is a familiar face.
It takes me a moment to pull through my memories, which are addled like my thoughts. I place it just as the senator draws up to my side, warmth cloaking my shoulders as he drapes a throw blanket over them.
Her name feels heavy and awkward on my tongue, and I wonder if I’m hallucinating. “Addie?”
“Get her out the back door!” The woman demands, looking at me like the gum under her shoe. The words are meant for the Senator, who hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering from the woman to the fire truck that comes to a stop in the drive. “Now! I’ll deal with this!”
I’m too confused to even protest as the Senator wraps his arms around me and spins me in the opposite direction. “I’ll meet you at home.” She calls after him. “Don’t let her out of your sight!”
If I thought my world had caved in when the man told me I was the product of apparent gang rape, I was wrong. It didn’t cave completely—just narrowed enough to cut off my hopes of escape. But now, as I turn back to get a glance at this woman that I’ve known all my life, I realize there’s still room left for everything to collapse.
And so, I do.