Chapter 14
Fourteen
Clara
Idon’t even know how many days we have been here. I’ve tried to count by the daylight from the little window up high, but it has been hopeless.
Surviving everything I have feels like I need to be the strong one for Bailey.
She isn’t coping well, but who the fuck does when you’re drugged, kidnapped and taken to a shack? Honestly, I am unsure what the fuck we’re in. All I know is it smells like manure is deep soaked in the grain of the wood slats lining the walls.
Being without my meds has tangled my intestines into a jumbled mess much like my nerves, and shame fills me when we have to use the bathroom and heap the dirt over it.
The bare minimum meals he brings us hasn’t done us any favours, and I give her most of the water because I don’t want her to get any sicker.
“Clara, what’re we gonna do?” Bailey whispers. Her usual blue hair is a mess, and varying stages of bruises cover her face.
Pacing the locked room, I’ve tried everything I can to get out, but it has been futile. “I’ll figure something out. I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this.”
“What do you mean?”
I’ve avoided this for however long we have been here, pretending I’m as clueless as she is.
When the dark masked man comes by, I feel like I’ve felt him before, but I always draw a blank. He’s wearing padding—after I attacked him and he walked away like it was nothing, I could feel the spongy feel.
Glancing at Bailey, I sit and lean against the filthy wooden walls, working my fingers through the dirt to find another stone. I’ve been working on a piece of scrap to try to have a weapon.
“Bad shit happened to me a long time ago, and I couldn’t see another way out from what I did.
Bailey, I don’t know if we’re going to be saved or even survive this, and I don’t want you to think I’m a piece of shit.
I’d blame me for being here. Fuck, babe, your injuries hurt me in ways you don’t even understand. ”
“Clara, you don’t have to be a hero.” She moves against the slates and stretches a bit. “It’s okay to embrace the darkness inside of you.”
“My stepdad wasn’t a good man. He stole so much from me—my innocence, my firsts for everything that you’re supposed to have with someone you love.” I drop the stick and wrap my arms around my knees.
“I couldn’t imagine, Clara. I had shitty parents, but they never touched me. What happened to your mom? Or your real dad?”
Rubbing at a scab that’s formed since I woke up here, I don’t make eye contact.
“Birth father took off, from what I understand. Didn’t want to be tied down to a baby.
Ma hooked up with the first guy who gave her the time of day just before I started school.
No other family, so I was raised by a monster. ”
I stare at nothing until my vision crosses. How did I ever think I could be loved in a healthy way when Andrew was the one to show me what I deserved my entire life?
Bailey’s lips move, but I’m lost inside my memories. I can see her, but my mind can’t connect to my mouth, and I can’t hear anything. Grounding doesn’t work here, no matter what I do.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“We’re past apologies, aren’t we? I said your past can shape you, but it can also turn you into exactly what you’d never be.”
I glance away, staring at the heavy door that doesn’t open much, like he’s forgotten we exist. Although it’s better than the torture which sometimes comes at night, I feel like I’m drowning alive.
“I’ve always had a big heart, and I don’t know how I came out of the situation with any humanity at all. Having core memories of neglect and abuse and wanting to be loved in a way which doesn’t hurt is such a fucking curse.”
Bailey scampers across the dirt and sits next to me, our shoulders touching. She doesn’t say anything, but her warmth is appreciated. “You did what you had to survive.”
“Yeah, and now we’re stuck here. How am I going to save you?”
“Us, save us. You’re just as fucking important as me. Doesn’t matter if you’re a stitched-up soul.”
I lean against her and rest my head on her shoulder. Dread pulses through me, and with a quick glance at the small window I know our time alone is ending.
We both jump as the metal lock bangs against the heavy door. I grab her hand and squeeze it.
As he steps through, he cocks his head and looks around. Whatever type of mask it is hides his facial features, and it drives me crazy because I can’t pinpoint who it could be. Maybe it means he’s going to let us go if we don’t see his face.
The energy changes in the room. The ominous vibes he brings, because he never says a fucking word, give me chills and fuel my belly with anger at the same time.
“How long are you going to keep us here?” Bailey asks.
He throws our dinner but advances on us, grasping her arm and dragging her away from me like a ragdoll.
As his fists beat down like rain, I’m stuck, cemented to the spot like I am watching an old film of Ryan and I. Animosity perspires out of him as he strikes her.
Sinking my fingers into the dirt, I find my half-ass shank and snap out of the past that always wants to drown me into the abyss.
The villain that lives inside of me is done waiting—there is no more time to waste for Bailey. Pulling on the deepest parts of myself, I am filled with malice and a bitter taste of hate.
Slinking behind them, I keep my eyes on hers. I’ve given up too much of my fucking life to die in this hellhole, and she deserves better.
When the room fills with the sound of bones crunching, I grab the back of his sweater and stick the sharpened piece of wood into his neck.
He roars and whips away from Bailey, knocking me down with a backhand. The pain blinds me, and I see stars.
Holding on to my need to help her, I kick as hard as I can and jump up to fight him. This fucker loves to use his fists instead of words, but he doesn’t know that’s my first language.
Shoving into him as the inside of my skin feels like it’s bleeding, I aim for his neck area again, needing to at least maim him if I can’t make the kill. Power pumps through my veins like I was built to be a different kind of monster.
He wraps his arm around my head, and when his hand clamps over my mouth I bite as hard as possible. Tasting blood only fuels me harder to keep going, and I kick back as hard I can.
If nothing else, at least I gave my best this time. I didn’t fawn or freeze. For the first time I’m fighting for the peace we deserve.
He squeals and pushes me away before running out the door. He’s left it open, and while my body throbs to stop I run as fast as I can until I reach a dusty hallway.
“Clara,” Bailey whispers.
Staring around the dirty space, I inch closer to a small light. Glancing around to check my surroundings, I find a flashlight and some supplies in an alcove.
Grabbing the metal cylinder, I continue walking through the space. It’s only one level, and when I find the door to freedom, tears spring in my eyes.
Red taillights speed down what looks like a very long path, and as weak as my knees feel, I exhale the fear I was holding and struggle back through the hall.
“Bailey, it’s time to go.”
“I can’t get up.” Tears stream on her swollen face, and as my head swims, my flesh tightens and throbs.
“I’ll figure something out.” Staring at her, I step closer and kiss her forehead. Leaving her isn’t what I want to do, and I’d never forgive myself if he came back.
Using the flashlight, I sweep the space, looking for something to use. Finding pieces of wood and a few bags of old twine, I bring them back to her.
“Listen, we’re fucking leaving. You’re gonna have to fight against the pain like you’ve never done before, baby, but we’re going. Let’s see what I can do.”
Using the twine is basically pointless as it breaks from age. I use one of the boards to keep her leg straight and throw the rest of the stuff to the side. Heading back out to the supplies, I find a broom and snap the handle over a metal table edge.
“Lean on me. Use this like a cane. We’re going now.”
We hobble out of the barn together. The flashlight dims and comes back on, so I turn it off as we stumble through the forest.
Roots and debris trip me, but we work together to slowly walk. A sharp pain radiates through my stomach, and my face throbs with its own heartbeat.
“Clara, leave me.”
“Never. I’ll die before that will ever happen. You’ve got this. Think about the couple that comes into the diner. They’ve faced shit, right? And they get their happy ever after.”
“I’ll never get mine.” Her voice trembles, and I’m confused.
We continue shuffling along the old path, because I refuse to use the one I saw the car on. The moon is almost full and helps a little, but the canopy of leaves covers us, and I curse inside.
Reaching a small clearing, I glance over my shoulder and cannot see the house anymore, providing me with a small amount of relief.
Resting against the trees, I look over the area with the bit of light we have left but cannot find anything worth our time.
As headlights speed by, I lower quickly and realize we must be near a road. Hope fills me, but the world spins and I focus only on Bailey as I turn to look at her.
“Bailey, keep talking.”
She cries, and it's at least distracting. I head toward her voice, but the world becomes scrambled again as it dances around my vision.
“It was George.” Her words tilt the sky, and everything goes black.