Chapter 20 The Luna Effect
THE LUNA EFFECT
EMERY
I’ve fantasized about death many times before. I’ve craved the taste of an everlasting sleep. But that desire, that morbid curiosity no longer resides within me. It’s faded. Ever so slowly but it has. Now the idea of an endless black hole is frightening, almost unfathomable.
But the clock is now ticking, and my death, sadly, is imminent.
I want to rely on Quin. On Damon, although I’m unsure if he even knows that I’ve been taken, snatched away. But I can’t. I can’t expect them to save me. Even if Quin decodes my shoddy attempt at a message, he still needs to find me. If I don’t even know where I am, how is he supposed to?
Where am I?
Where?
I close my eyes, attempting to extract every ounce of information from my surroundings.
Every detail can be a potential lifeline.
Slowing my breaths, I listen. I listen until I hear it.
It’s faint, but I hear it. The call of a seagull.
Is that a seagull? I listen more intently. Yes. That’s…that’s a seagull.
I draw in a long breath, and focus. There’s a cracked window above me, on the wall. I can feel a light breeze. It smells like…salt, maybe? The ocean? Are we by the ocean? Maybe we’re on an island…or somewhere near the shore. A coastline. But where? We could be anywhere.
My internal investigation is interrupted when I hear Toni's voice, sharp and demanding.
"Eat."
The plate clatters as she places it on the floor. The fragrant aroma of the food wafts up my nostrils, and I open my eyes to see what she's offering. It looks like a sandwich of sorts. Or a rather odd lasagna. A local delicacy, perhaps?
“It’s scaccia,” Toni elaborates. “Very tasty. Eat.”
Italy? Maybe we’re in Italy. That would make sense given Toni’s heritage. But where? North? South? East? West? Or we’re nowhere in Italy, and she simply enjoys Italian cuisine. Or home cooking.
“Eat.”
I don't reach for the sandwich. Instead, I push the plate away, my eyes locked on Toni's. “No.”
I can't afford to be naive in this situation, to blindly accept food offered by my captor. My safety depends on my vigilance.
Toni sighs, squatting in front of me. “You need to eat, bella,” she says, gaze flitting around my face. “It's been over twenty-four hours since your last meal.”
I glower at her. “Believe it or not, Antonia,” I say, voice firm, edging on combative, “I’m not particularly hungry these days.” I glance down at the plate of food. “Plus, I don’t wish to be slowly poisoned.”
Toni perks up an amused brow. “Poisoned? Bella… Why are you telling yourself so many awful stories?” She places a warm palm on my cheek, pouting.
“It is important in situations such as these to remain optimistic.” I tense under her touch as she adds, “I am not a very patient woman, Emery Jones. If I wanted to kill you, I would use a much faster method. So please,” she pulls away from me, “eat.”
My stomach betrays me as it grumbles. “Fine.”
Toni’s gaze remains fixed on me as I devour the scaccia like a starved animal. A grin spreads across her face as she brings her thumb to the corner of my lip and wipes away several crumbs.
“See? Don’t you feel better now?”
“I’d feel better if you unchained me,” I say, glancing down at the lock around my ankle. “It hurts.”
A twinge of empathy briefly dances across her features. “Unfortunately, that is one request I cannot fulfill.”
I push myself up to my feet, my muscles sore and aching. “Then I’d like to go to the restroom.”
Toni stands up, her gaze floating to a metal bucket behind me.
My eyes widen. “Seriously? No. I’m not going to go in a fucking bucket.” I point to a door I’m fairly sure leads to a bathroom. “I’d like a real toilet.”
Toni’s expression is hesitant and something inside tells me to channel Luna. And so I do.
With a subtle tilt of my chin, I glance up at Toni through smudged lashes. “Please, Toni… I won’t run. I-I promise I won’t. You can… You can watch me.”
She swallows, checking the main door to the basement.
For Simone, most likely. I have yet to discern the nature of their relationship.
Lovers, no doubt. But what else? Perhaps I can use their ambiguity to my advantage.
Given the way Toni looks at me, often for a moment too long, I’d bet on the fact that she’s intrigued.
But would I bet my life on it?
At this point, I might have to.
“Fine. Quickly.” Toni finally gives in, removing a key from her back pocket and unlocking the chain. Instant relief washes over me as she frees my ankle. Toni places her hand on the small of my back. “Go. Walk.”
With a slight animated limp, I hobble toward the bathroom, Toni’s hand remaining on my exposed skin. She leans over, and twists the knob for me, opening the door. The bathroom is small and grimy, but it has everything I need. A sink, a mirror, a toilet, and a shower.
As I step into the bathroom, I turn to face the sink, and my jaw drops, a loud gasp slipping past my lips. “Oh my God.” My eyes widen as I examine the bruises and stitched wound on the side of my forehead. “Did you sew this?”
Toni leans against the threshold of the bathroom, arms crossed, her gaze anywhere but on me. “Last night. After the recording. You were already asleep.”
I spin around, facing her, brows furrowed. “You repeatedly pushed a needle through my skin, and I didn’t wake up?”
Toni gives me a lazy shrug. “No.”
I purse my lips. “You drugged me.”
So I wouldn’t feel the pain? Or so that, if I screamed, no one would hear me?
Another shrug. “Perhaps.” She turns her back to me. “Do your business. Quickly.”
Refusing to feel embarrassed that Toni can hear me pee, I hike the various layers of my dress up and sit down, forcing myself to finish as soon as possible.
After I flush and wash my hands, I look back in the mirror, the reflection a terrifying, dirty mess.
The hem of this once pristine and expensive gown is tattered and filthy, my skin stained with patches of soil and blood.
I shouldn’t push her too fast too soon. It could backfire. It could ruin any chances of securing my freedom. But I don’t have time for the slow approach. I don’t have time to be cautious.
And so, I test her boundaries.
“Can I take a shower?” My request catches her off guard. I dance both hands along my collarbones and brush my tangled, sticky hair off my shoulders. “Please… I’ll be fast. Just two minutes.”
Toni’s jaw tenses, her pupils a millimeter wider than a second ago. Her gaze floats across my spilling breasts. “There is no hot water,” she mutters. “No shower.”
“That’s okay,” I whisper, ignoring the latter. “Cold is fine.” Say yes. Please say yes. Toni’s dark eyes flick across my face and I soften my features, force-feeding her every ounce of Luna I can muster. Say yes. Say yes. “Please?”
She hates it. She’s fighting the words.
But she loses.
They always lose to Luna.
“Fine,” Toni grumbles. “Two minutes.”
I rein in a victorious grin, and I slowly turn my back to her, sweeping my hair off to the side, revealing a dozen laced-up buttons that I have no way of releasing on my own. “Can you?”
"Figure it out yourself.”
Her response may be dismissive, but I refuse to back down. I refuse to lose.
"Please," I say, my voice soft and imploring. I take a step backward closer to Toni, twisting my neck over my shoulder. I give her a sultry look, an invitation that she can't resist. “I can’t reach.”
Toni's reluctance is palpable, but under her mild irritation I sense a flicker of something else. Something that could save me.
Lust.
“Fine.”
And with that, I face forward, giving her a full view of the intricate lace knots that hold my dress together. As Toni starts to assist me, her touch is unexpectedly gentle, her fingers brushing lightly against my skin. The sensation sends shivers down my spine.
The lace knots gradually come undone, and as Toni reaches the last button, my dress plummets to the floor around my ankles. With a breath of resolution, I step out of the dress and turn around, nearly naked as I stand before her, smiling coyly.
"Thank you," I say, teasing and flirtatious, aware that I've successfully trapped Toni in my web.
Toni's arousal is unmistakable, her eyes filled with desire as they rake over my body. Her gaze lingers on the scar between my breasts, and my resolve wavers for a brief moment.
She swallows, fighting to look away from my exposed breasts. “What happened to you?”
“Heart transplant,” I reply quietly.
She sighs, meeting my vulnerable gaze. “I see.” After a charged beat, she turns around. “Shower. Quickly.”
Cold water pelts against my body as I step into the shower and use my hands to scrub away the blood, the dirt, and the fear.
Toni stands by the bathroom door, her presence loud despite no noise.
Just as I'm finishing up, the main door slams shut, and the sound of approaching footsteps fills the small basement.
Toni mutters a curse under her breath. “Hurry up,” she grunts, and we’re no longer alone.
“What are you doing?” Simone spits as I turn off the faucet. “Are you out of your mind? A shower? Remember who is in charge, Toni. Do not be a fucking idiot.”
Toni's response is inaudible, but her submissive tone irks me.
“Get out,” Simone says, and I assume she’s talking to me. I poke my head out from behind the shower curtain. She throws a towel, clean underwear, and a baggy T-shirt at me. “Dry yourself off and change," she orders, leaving no room for argument. "This is the last shower you'll ever take."
I grab the towel and dry myself off, the fabric rough against my skin. Quickly, I slip on the T-shirt and change into the cotton panties. My skin pebbles as a chilly draft hits me like a brick wall and I shiver.
“Back to your chain, dog,” Simone sneers, snapping her fingers. I keep my head down as I walk back toward the mattress on the floor, keenly listening to Simone’s hushed conversation with Toni. “If you cannot handle her alone, perhaps it would be best if I watch her from now on.”
“I got it,” Toni huffs. “Focus on your own task, not mine.”
“Remember why we’re doing this. Remember your poor sister. My brother. Remember the goal, Toni. Do not forget it.”
As we reach my corner of the basement, I turn around and Toni kneels beside me, locking up my ankle once again.
Simone glares at me. “You should have kept the dress. It had many layers.” She nods up to the narrow windowsill behind the reinforced rebar. “I read tonight will be freezing.” She checks her watch. “I’ve got a meeting.” She leans over and kisses Toni on the cheek. “Don’t wait up. I will be late.”
My cold wet hair sticks to my neck and shoulders as Simone leaves the basement.
“I could get pneumonia,” I say to Toni, sinking down on the mattress. I glance over to a throw blanket draped over her computer chair. “I-I won’t tell her…”
Toni gives me a flat look. “Go to sleep, Emery Jones.”
My stomach twists, but I don’t beg. I don’t barter with her. I simply curl up into a ball, and hope that I don’t die.
Please. Please find me. Please let me go.
Please give me a chance.
Please.
At some point, I stir awake in the middle of the night and nearly cry.
For the first time in my life, my prayers are heard.
A blanket hugs my body.