29. DANIELLE
I awoke to a throbbing, relentless pain shooting down the side of my face.
Though I still hadn’t opened my eyes, I could sense that the room I was in was dark, cold, and lonely.
A hard floor was pressing against my back, adding to my discomfort as I rallied the strength to sit up.
Once I succeeded, I assessed my surroundings.
The windows, all covered with boards, allowed the smallest sliver of light to come through, casting faint illumination on the crumbling wall behind me.
Pushing myself upright, I surveyed the room a bit more.
Across from me, a small white iron daybed stood in the corner, covered in dusty, aged blankets and pillows that had seen better days.
The walls were not just peeling, but yellow, and the only other furniture in the room was a battered, rickety dresser.
On the floor in front of it lay a black trash bag, half full.
Curiosity piqued, and I leaned over and peered inside, never anticipating how much it would reveal about Landon’s mental indisposition.
"My clothes?" I mused aloud as my pulse picked up speed, bewildered and terrified. He had brought my clothes from the apartment. Had he completely lost his grip on reality?
It took a moment before I pushed myself to my feet, forcing myself out of the room. Clear, rational thinking was crucial now; one misstep could spell disaster for me, Alex, and Cody.
Oh God, Cody.
Even alone, the guilt of what I said to him clung to me like static. It was a very real fear that those would be the last words I ever said to him. I felt sick to my stomach, replaying what happened over in my head. I was a god damn fool.
I had to rely on Cody to notice I wasn’t at the house as soon as possible, or at the very least, to call Alex and tell him that I had left him.
Leaving Cody where he was felt foolish in hindsight, especially given the situation.
But now, thanks to my irrational outburst, my ex-boyfriend had traveled across the country, kidnapped me, and knocked me unconscious.
Despite these circumstances, I realized that Cody's actions were not some sinister plot to hurt me; he acted with my best interest in mind. I just had to hope that I’d have the chance to tell him that one day.
As I stepped into the hallway, I began mentally mapping the house layout as detailed as possible. There were five doors on the upper floor; I exited from the one nearest the staircase. Dust lined every surface, including the scant furnishings. Most windows were sealed with boards.
From below, I heard Landon busy with something. Following the sound, I descended the stairs, tracing the sound of chopping back to the kitchen. I navigated through the hallway, passing what might have been a parlor once, and paused before an elaborately adorned fireplace.
A glance in the dusty, yellow mirror revealed a pretty hefty bruise beneath my left eye. My thoughts were broken up by the sound of something sizzling as I walked into the kitchen.
“Oh, good, you’re up!” Landon greeted me with an out-of-place, perky smile, moving out from behind his workstation, surrounded by freshly chopped vegetables.
I stood there as questions began piling up inside my head. Had he hit me with such force that I was imagining things? Could I be hallucinating?
“What are you doing?” I snapped, demanding answers.
“I’m making us dinner, sweetie.” He didn’t even look up from whatever he was cooking in the pan. “You were asleep all day. You must have been tired.”
“You knocked me the fuck out, Landon! And I’m not your sweetie.”
Landon stopped cooking and faced me with a wild look in his blackened eyes, paired with a sinister smile. He closed the distance in a few quick strides. I backed away on instinct, but he gripped my arms before I could retreat, holding me firm where I stood.
"All that is in the past now. I did what I had to do to get you here, so you would come around," he said, smirking inches from my face.
"Come around to what?" I asked, though, not really wanting the answer.
"Well, us, of course."
"There is no us anymore, Landon. You tried to fucking kill me!" I attempted to leave the kitchen, but his hand clenched harder around my arm, jerking me back to face him.
"I don’t think you get it, Danielle." He brushed the strand from my face with a deliberate slowness as his stare bore into mine, like he was daring me to look away. "This is your life now. You’re not going anywhere."
His words confirmed my worst fears. Landon had completely lost his grip on reality.
Paralyzed by terror, I stood motionless, trying my best to calculate how to survive this.
How the hell was Alex going to track me down in this remote house?
I didn’t know how far we were from Grand Junction, and there was no way for him to track me.
Landon kept rambling on about something, but it fell into the background of my frantic thoughts.
I couldn't help but feel guilty for leaving Cody behind.
If something happened to me and he believed I hated him, the regret would haunt me until I took my last breath.
Would he even come searching for me?
I wouldn’t.
And I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.
Landon's unsettling calmness created a dangerous gray area between threat and madness. Did he really intend to harm me, or was this psychological torment, knowing full well the revulsion I felt toward him?
“Danielle.”
I snapped back to the present and looked up at Landon’s frustrated stare as he realized I hadn’t heard a word he said.
“There’s a dress upstairs in your room for dinner.”
I was appalled. “Eat shit, Landon. I’m not wearing a fucking dress, and I’m not eating dinner with you. Are you insane?”
Landon set the kitchen knife down and approached, invading my space until his face was inches from mine. Close enough that I could feel his breath on me, making my skin crawl.
"You're going to put it on, and you’re going to enjoy a nice dinner with me, or I'm going to fucking kill Cody."
My heart froze.
Had I said Cody’s name by accident? How did Landon know?
I could feel my composure unraveling. I couldn’t control myself anymore. I broke down crying as Landon walked back over to the kitchen counter and grabbed the knife, waving it around without any consideration for my or his safety as he paced back and forth.
"Look at you, stupid as ever, trying to calculate how I knew.” Landon laughed, becoming more reckless with the knife. “It wasn’t that fucking hard, Danielle. I mean, once I broke into Alex’s house and saw all his roommate’s belongings were gone, it wasn’t hard to figure out.”
Think, Danielle. Don’t say anything stupid.
Before I could react, Landon seized a handful of my hair, wrenching my head back with a forceful tug. The cold steel of the knife pressed against my throat.
“Fuck him. I’m claiming the life I wanted with you, the one you fucking gave him, you stupid slut. Now, go put the dress on like the obedient bitch you are."
He turned away, leaving me overwhelmed with fear and rage.
I ran back to the room upstairs, slamming the door behind me.
My anger reached a crescendo, and I hit the wall with all the strength I could muster.
I hit it with enough adrenaline that the aging plaster crumbled beneath my fist. Despite the nauseating feeling growing, I knew eating dinner with Landon was the one chance I had to keep Cody and Alex safe.
Opening the closet, I found a little black dress, form-fitting and revealing.
I was disgusted. Landon had no right to see me in this.
I hesitated as I slipped it on, feeling exposed and degraded.
The idea of walking down the stairs and seeing Landon instead of Cody was more than I could tolerate.
If Alex and Cody ever found me, if rescue came, I hoped they'd understand the bullshit I endured to ensure their survival.
Against my will, I made my way downstairs to the dining room.
Landon had attempted to transform the neglected space, draping a dark red tablecloth over the dusty table and setting out an antique candelabra adorned with lit candles.
The dim glow flickered off the intricate, yet inappropriate, place settings positioned at opposite ends of the table.
Catching my eye as he plated dinner, Landon smiled.
"You look incredible," he said, finishing up and approaching me.
I flinched as his hands landed on my waist, scanning me with a disgusting look that made my skin crawl. I couldn't recall a time when I felt more violated and enraged.
"Don’t fucking touch me," I managed to spit out through clenched teeth.
His expression hardened, and he tightened his grip, pulling me closer until my body was pressed against his. What I had once found endearing, I now detested.
“But dear,” he spoke in a calm, almost sadistic tone, “that almost sounded like you weren’t happy.
Which couldn’t be possible because if you weren’t…
” he shook his head, snickering. “Well, if you weren’t, I’d have to kill you.
And then your brother. And then that pathetic little boyfriend of yours. ”
He released me at last, sliding into his seat. His eyes locked on mine as he beckoned for me to sit, firm—the invitation more an order than a request.
My hands clenched in my lap as I sat down, reluctant to be sitting opposite Landon.
I had no appetite as I watched with anger and disgust as he ate, pretending this was a perfectly normal dinner.
I couldn’t bring myself to touch the food, instead pushing it around my plate while choking back tears.
Throughout most of the meal, Landon remained silent, his eyes fixed on me, consuming me with a look that deepened my repugnance.
It was as though he were undressing me with his eyes, and all feelings of hunger vanished entirely.
"Aren't you going to eat?" Landon asked, his irritation at new levels.
"I'd rather fucking starve," I snapped back, shooting him a sarcastic smirk before standing up and leaving the room.
I was desperate to devise an escape plan.
The challenge came from having no idea where I was; my familiarity with the area outside of mine and Cody’s little bubble was limited, and being unconscious the whole drive here, however long that was, had ruined any chance I had of figuring it out. There had to be a way.
If I could somehow get Landon away from his phone. But how could I even achieve that without Landon becoming suspicious? If he caught me, I knew he’d kill me. Yet, the thought of being trapped here indefinitely was a fate worse than death.
Weighing my options, I wondered whether living in this nightmare for a few more days might buy time for someone to find me. How much longer would I be able to endure this torment?
The hours ticked on. Time warped into something cruel, and every second felt endless, like it was carving away at me.
I could feel my sense of reality slipping.
It let my mind spiral, playing out all the ways this could end, and none of them were good. I wanted to scream, to fight, to do something—but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.
Hope wasn’t just fading.
It was rotting inside me.