Chapter 28
SHELBY
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ijolt awake when a hand covers my mouth. It’s dark, and my eyes haven’t adjusted yet. Shuffling comes from somewhere in the room, so more than one person is up.
The hand on my mouth moves to my neck, gripping tight, cutting off my airflow. This person is strong. They use their grip on my neck to drag me off my top bunk, slamming me onto the floor. My back screams in pain, and it’s hard to breathe. What little oxygen I have left in my lungs is knocked out upon impact.
The hand releases me, and I lie still, gasping in air. The shadowy figure on the right is too big to be any of my roommates. I recover enough to kick out, hitting them in their thigh, causing them to stumble back.
The person who slammed me to the ground darts back in to straddle me, punching me in the stomach. I roll my top half to the side, fighting not to vomit from the hit but also using the move as a feint.
If they expected that hit to keep me down and let them beat me, they’re nuts.
With all my strength, I bring my elbow up and jam it into the big one’s jaw. Big Guy—as I’ve decided to call him—moves enough so my legs can bend against my chest and under him. I use the leverage to push him off me. It gives me enough time for me to stand.
Three shadowy figures—Big Guy, a medium-sized guy, and the third person, who could be a guy or a girl because they’re smaller and thinner—circle me. I glance at the other bunks, confirming my suspicion that my roommates aren’t in their beds.
Fuck, I’m outnumbered.
“Didn’t you put shit in her food?” the medium-sized guy says.
I don’t recognize his voice from the ones I heard today.
“I did,” replies the small one, confirming that Small One is a girl. The voice is too high to be a guy, plus girls served me my food.
They tried to drug me. Oh, they’re going down. I drop into my fighting stance.
The medium-sized guy comes at me with a right hook that I block. But I can’t counter in this small space. This time, both guys come at me. Big Guy swings. I block, but Middle Dude takes out my legs, making me tip to the side.
Big Guy grabs me by the hair and slams my head against the side of the top bunk.
When he lets go, I collapse. I hold my head and try to shake it off, but stars cover my vision.
Big Guy moves behind me and takes my hands, holding them together above my head as the Middle Dude straddles me, sitting on my thighs. He sits back far enough to expose my whole upper torso and takes full advantage, throwing punch after punch against my stomach and ribs.
I wiggle and thrash as much as possible, causing him to miss me and punch Big Guy instead.
Grunting, Big Dude snaps at Small One. “Grab her legs.”
I have little range on my legs, but it’s enough that when Small One bends to grab me, I kick up and connect with her nose.
The sound of bones crunching fills the room, and she screams. “She broke my nose!”
“We need to hurry,” Big Guy says.
Middle Dude leans down. “We wanted to welcome you to Milestones. Oh yeah, Roger wants you to know he’s coming for you.”
He punches me in the face, and I black out.
“Shelby,” a voice I don’t recognize says as they shake my arm.
I bolt up to a sitting position with my fists up and ready. Following my abrupt return to consciousness, the person yelps, and a small thud is heard.
Light shines from the window, making me squint.
“Augh fuck, that hurts.” I grab my side, pain radiating along my torso from the hits I took last night and my sudden movement. “What time is it?”
“Just after seven. Can I clean the cut you have on your head?” Laurie sits a few feet from me.
I reach up and touch where Big Guy slammed my head against the bunk, hissing at the sting when I touch it. I nod, and she grabs an alcohol pad from somewhere in the room.
“Laurie, you shouldn’t be helping her. They’ll find out,” one of my other roommates says.
“I don’t care, Milly.” Laurie turns to me. “I’m sorry I left and let them do this to you.” She reaches out and dabs my cut with the alcohol pad.
I hiss and jerk away from the sting before holding still again. “Don’t be. I understand why you did. I wouldn’t want someone to be hurt because of me.”
I let her finish cleaning my cut before I try to stand, groaning from the pain.
It takes me a minute, but I stand. “Did I miss my time in the shower?”
“Yes, but you can use mine, if you want.” Laurie smiles. “It’s in about ten minutes.”
I won’t take her slot, especially when she has to go to school, and I’m going to lie around today.
“No, I’ll be fine.” I shuffle to my clothes.
With great pain, I move to change my pants. I bend down to slide my pants off my legs.
“Can I sit on your bunk to put on my pants?” I ask Laurie, and she nods.
Once I’m done, I take off my shirt, gritting my teeth against the pain in my ribs. My stomach is black and blue.
“They worked you over more than they did us.” Milly stares at me.
“So, they’re the welcoming committee?” I ask no one in particular.
“Pretty much,” Milly says.
I want to lie down, but the thought of climbing the ladder makes me hurt.
“I’m going to eat some breakfast.” Should I risk eating food that might be drugged again? “Is there anywhere to get food here besides the cafeteria?”
“No.” Laurie shakes her head. “Be careful.”
“I’ll try,” I say. I can’t guarantee I’ll be successful.
I limp my way down the stairs. With every step I take, my ribs scream in pain. I make it down the steps and stand in line.
Once I get my food, I sit down.
They drugged my food yesterday. Will I know if they try it again?
As I drink my orange juice, staring at my food and debating whether to eat it, my name is called to the head office.
My shoulders slump. This isn’t good.
Well, I guess that solves that debate. I throw away my food.
I walk to the hall where the offices are and look for one that says head office. I come to the end of the hall and find a lady sitting at a desk. To the right is a door that says, Melinda Santos.
The lady behind the desk doesn’t look up at me. “Go in. She’s expecting you.”
I walk in, and if I thought the group home area was posh, this takes the cake. Cherrywood flooring runs wall to wall. A light brown hutch sits on an L-shaped oak desk. A white leather couch sits along the wall with a fluffy faux fur rug under a coffee table.
“Miss Winters, please take a seat.” She gestures for me to sit in front of her.
I move, trying not to limp or groan as I sit in a chair that looks like a big box but is one of the most comfortable chairs I’ve sat in.
“I’m Melinda Santos, you can call me Ms. Santos. I run Milestones Academy. We seem to have a problem. Can you tell me how your first night here went?”
Shit, she’s fishing. I have two options: tell her the truth and have my stay here be more hellish, or I could play dumb.
I make my eyes go big, and I blink. “I’m not sure what you are looking for, Ma’am.”
She huffs, then someone knocks on the door, and her face lights up. “Right on time.”
Julia walks in with two black eyes and a bandaged nose. I guess I know who Small One is. She takes a seat beside me and gives me a side smirk.
“Ms. Winters, you met one of our prize students, Ms. Julia Web. Julia came to me in the early hours and said you attacked her. Care to explain yourself?” Ms. Santos asks.
“Did she tell you she and two others did this to me?” I stand up with some difficulty and show her my jaw and the cut on my forehead before I lift my shirt and show her my stomach.
“Yes, she said she had to defend herself,” Ms. Santos says, unsurprised.
“And you believe her?” I ask.
“Why wouldn’t I?” she says. “In the years she’s lived here, no complaints have been logged. You show up, and her nose is broken.”
“This is unbelievable.” I shake my head. “Only her nose is broken, while I’m black and blue, and you think I attacked her? That doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s not my fault you attacked me, and I don’t know how to fight. It was awful, Ms. Santos,” she cries. “I’m not a fighter, but she came at me and wouldn’t stop.”
Ms. Santos struts over to Julia, picking up her hand and patting it. “I know, dear.”
I roll my eyes. How does that make any sense? Why am I covered in bruises if she doesn’t know how to fight?
I’m about to say something, but Ms. Santos returns to her desk and hits a button.
“Ms. Winters, you’ll spend the next few days in the cell,” she says. Her door opens, and a huge guard comes in. “Take Ms. Winters to the cell.”
What? What the hell is the cell?
“I didn’t do anything. I defended myself,” I say as the guard takes my arm and half-drags me out the door.
Ms. Santos raises her chin, ignoring what I’m saying.
The guards shove me into an elevator and take me to the basement. It’s not much better than the one Roger kept me in. Along the wall are actual cells.
He throws me in one of them and locks the cell behind me. “Enjoy your stay.”
The guard laughs as he turns and leaves the basement.
I’m alone down here. I look around my cell, and stains cover a thin mattress cot. Who knows what else is on it? I don’t have sheets or a blanket to cover myself with. This is the opposite of what is upstairs.
The cell is small, and the cot barely fits. I pace the cell, measuring it with my steps—five steps wide by three, maybe three and a half deep.
I pace as much as I can in the tiny space until my side starts killing me.
I sit on the cot and curl into the corner against the cinderblock wall and the cell bars beside me. I try not to think of the basement from hell, but it’s not working. I keep going back to that dark place in my mind, remembering Evan’s hands on my body.
My heart races, and my breathing grows shallow.
You’re safe, I repeat, trying to calm myself down.
I’ve come so far and don’t want to return to that madness.
A door opens and closes, but nothing else.
I squint my eyes to help me see, but it’s too dark.
Light footsteps sound, and the person moves closer to my cell. “Shelby, are you down here?”
“Laurie?” I gasp.
She moves closer to the cell.
“What are you doing down here?” I uncurl myself from the wall.
“I brought you some things. I’ve been down here before, so I understand the conditions.” She holds something in her hands.
I move to stand up but falter. I’ve been in that position for too long, and my legs are stiff and asleep. With a groan, I move to where she stands at the door to my cell. She hands me a sheet and a blanket.
“Thank you,” I say. “You won’t get in trouble for this, will you?”
“You’re welcome, and it doesn’t matter.” She shrugs, and I debate giving the blanket back. “I’m sorry that bitch put you down here. I tucked some pain pills into the blanket. You look like you could use them.”
“Thanks, and don’t worry, she’ll get what’s coming to her. Karma is a bitch.”
“A couple of phone calls came in for you,” she adds.
I smile. “It’s probably my guys. What are they telling them?”
“That no one by your name is here before they hang up on them. I’ll try to answer one of the calls and tell them where you are,” she says.
My gaze drops to the ground. “Don’t get yourself in any trouble. I’ve survived worse.”
Realizing what I said, I look back up at Laurie.
“You better go up before they notice you’re missing.” I reach my hand out through the bars and squeeze hers. “Thanks, Laurie, for everything.”
“Hang in there.” She disappears back into the dark.
I unravel the sheets carefully and find the water bottle and pills inside.
I open the bottle and almost drink half before I pop the pills into my mouth and swallow them with another mouthful of water. I put the sheet down, then lie on top, and while it’s cold down here, I put the blanket under my head for now. I drift off to sleep.
“Monkey,” says a voice in the dark.
I bolt upright and search the shadows for Roger.
“How’s your mother, monkey?” he taunts.
“Show yourself, you bastard.” I fight the rising panic. I won’t let him in my head.
A flashlight flicks on, making me jump, and his face is illuminated in the light.
“Boo.” He laughs.
“I’m going to kill you,” I growl.
“Not if I kill you first.” He laughs.
The flashlight turns off, sinking the basement into darkness, hiding him from me again.
“What do you want, Roger?” If he talks more, I can figure out where he is. “You wanted to hurt me? Well, you succeeded. You killed my mom.”
“Her death didn’t hurt you. Why are you lying to me? You’ve known she’d overdose for years. I might have given her the pills, but it was her choice to take them. Not that she was in her right mind when she did,” he taunts.
I grip the bars, trying to see him in the dark. “What are you talking about?”
“I did you a favor helping get rid of that liar. Did you know she had cancer?”
“You’re lying.” I follow his voice.
The light flicks on, and he stands right in front of me, causing me to jerk back from him. “Why would I lie? She found out she had cancer while you were in Hawaii. Stage four. She didn’t have long to live, and she hid it from you, because you’re such a failure of a daughter.”
Surging forward, I reach through the bars, trying to punch him, and he backs up, turning off the light. “She would have told me if she was dying.”
“Maybe she tried, but you weren’t very nice to her when she brought you into the Tate’s home, were you?” He tries to guilt me. “You shouldn’t have pissed me off by disappearing for months.”
“I’m glad you’re pissed, Roger, ’cause you pissed me off by killing my mother!” I yell into the dark.
A hand grabs my throat and slams my face into the bars. “It’s not healthy to piss me off.”
My head spins. What little light is in the room fades.
“You should be more worried about the family you still have left. Dear old uncle and that mouthy cousin of yours. Too bad you won’t have them for lo-ong,” he sings.
He releases me, and I crumple to the floor, passing out.