Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SUMMER
Kage discards me in the basement after carrying me back. He tosses me onto the bed and doesn’t even bother with the chains. A few moments after he stomps upstairs and slams the door, he opens it again, and down rains fresh clothes, a towel, and a protein bar.
I don’t move. Ten minutes later, the door opens for the third time, and a squalling Poppy is forced into the hellish abyss with me before it slams and locks for the final time.
That was almost an entire day ago, and I haven’t heard a peep since. Somewhere in my state of fitful sleep, I could’ve sworn I heard his tires peel out on the gravel, but with how dark and clouded my mind currently is, I can’t be sure what’s reality and what I’m making up.
The only thing the pain across my ass cheeks allows is for me to lie in a vegetative, depressed state on the lumpy mattress.
I should be trying even harder to escape, especially since he forgot to cuff me, but all I can do is intermittently cry, throw myself a pity party, and try to figure out why I fucking loved what he did to me, even with how irate and absolutely horrifying he was.
Every time my mind wanders to last night, I try to focus on something else: the cracks in the floor, the way Poppy’s tail twitches when she spots something that looks like prey, the sun fading from noon to dinnertime.
My heart clenches, and I push up onto my elbows, narrowing my gaze at the window.
There are fingerprints in the dirt that coats the pane.
From my distance, it looks as though they’re on the outside, too.
Mulling this new development over, I try to rationalize why—after four months of my being here—there’s suddenly a disruption in something that hasn’t changed at all.
Maybe Kage touched the glass while looking for me?
It was too dark last night for me to understand where my window is in relation to where we were seated outside.
Maybe he leaned down and glanced in before he left because he realized he forgot to chain me up? But why wouldn’t he come back and clap the cuffs back on as he’s so fond of? Where is Kage, and why has he been gone so long?
Chewing my cheek, a new fear begins to tug at the fragile strings holding my sanity together.
What would happen to me if something happened to Kage?
He is my only lifeline. Thank fuck he forgot to really lock me up this time, but what about before?
What if he left for work and got hit by a truck and died and I was stuck down here in those chains?
I have Poppy now, and I have running water, but food? I’d starve to death. And so would she. What a slow, tortuous way to go.
My ass burns and smarts, pulling me from hellish thoughts as I hiss in pain.
He held nothing back last night, yet at the same time, I know in my bones he held everything back.
He easily could’ve fucked me against that tree, and my cunt weeps at the thought.
I want more of him, more of his dominating brand of intimacy, and I hate myself for it.
Sighing, I roll gingerly onto my side and watch the bright, pumpkin-hued sunset cast long shadows on the wall. My anxiety grows the longer I wait to hear even a peep upstairs, and once darkness falls, I’m left alone and shivering in fright.
I debate climbing the steps to see if the door is unlocked.
Maybe this is some form of a test? But I’m almost positive he locked it, just forgot the stupid chains.
What if he really did die in some freak accident?
How do I get out? I could easily break the window and fit through, and I know he keeps those hefty, metal tools down here somewhere.
Stuck between impossible thoughts and decisions, I fall back into a light sleep, promising myself that if he’s still not home come dawn, then I will bust out that window and run away with Poppy.
But I don’t get that chance, because something rips me from my slumber.
And it isn’t Kage.
The squeaking as the pane of glass is pried from the metal starts out soft, just barely entering my hazy, dream-like state.
I’m not sure what has me rolling off the mattress and scurrying toward the laundry room before I’ve even fully awoken; I think my survival instincts seem to know that in all the months I’ve spent here, this is the first sound that is completely out of the norm.
Without the reassurance that Kage is upstairs, the animal in me knows to flee and hide before I’ve even wiped the drool from my cheek.
By the time my brain has awakened, I’m shuffling blind through the darkness with my hands outstretched, attempting to find a place to hide as my heart leaps into my throat and all-consuming fear thumps through me like the beating of a war drum.
A pane of glass falls to the concrete and shatters, the intruder cursing and completely unfazed by the ostentatious sound.
Clapping my hands over my trembling lips, I sink down against a cabinet, frozen in terror.
It’s not Kage, because he’s never been able to speak that loudly before, and… and Kage is gone.
The one who decimated my life by kidnapping me is also the safest person I know right now, and I choke on a frightened sob when the sinking feeling hits my gut.
Kage is gone. I’m alone, locked in this basement, and someone I don’t know is here in the darkness with me, lurking like a lion through the grass.
I close my eyes as though to shield myself from what I’m sure will be impending torture, but all I see is the clown mask flashing in my retinas, a vestige of trauma from the night Kage ripped me from my peaceful slumber in my safe, cozy bed.
My breaths come in rapid bursts, and trying to calm them only heightens my need for more air as my chest caves inward with my panic attack.
And then, the monster in the darkness speaks, his words low and woven through with a dark, sinister chuckle. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. I just wanna play.”
My fingers dig into my cheeks so hard I’ll have bruises in death, because the voice of the man who’s down here with me is evil, and I know my torture won’t be quick.
Tears spill from my eyes and wet my fingers.
I’m not wearing any clothing from the waist down, my butt still aching from Kage’s punishment.
I know in my soul that what I’m about to endure will be far more painful and heinous than anything Kage would ever do to me, and I have to choke back a sob at the horrid truth of it all. In my darkest moments down here, I always begged for my parents.
Now, I’d do anything to have the man who took me down here, because I know Kage wouldn’t hesitate to hurt someone who wants to hurt me.
A flashlight beam cleaves the night in two, illuminating enough of the room I’m in for me to see that it’s just a storage space for tools.
My eyes catch on that huge wrench, leaned up innocuously against the wall to my left.
Glancing quickly back to the doorway, I make a quick move for the hefty chunk of metal, wrapping my fingers around the handle just as the beam hits me square in the face and momentarily blinds me.
My panic overflows, my brain confused between past and present, forcing my body to freeze with indecision.
The wielder lowers the light, and his long, ugly face comes into view, a grin upon his thin lips, his teeth cartoonishly large as he grins maniacally down at me. He’s putrid, the stench wafting from him making me nauseous, as though he’s been living in the woods for weeks.
Fuck. The fingerprints on the window. The floorboard creaking upstairs.
Maybe he has been out there, circling like a vulture, waiting for the apex predator to leave so he could move in for whatever scraps remain.
I have to choke down the bile forcing its way up my throat, because there’s something intimately horrifying when you discover you’ve been hunted in such a way and for an unknown amount of time.
His balding head sports a layer of dirt, grime sticking to his sallow, gaunt cheeks, his skeleton a frame for his skin to hang limply upon. One hand grips the flashlight, and the other drops to the button on his jeans.
A whimper escapes me no matter how hard I try to stop it, and his vile grin doubles.
“Hopefully your cunt is still tight after that traitor had his fun with you. He did choose a pretty whore. Pity he left us. Should’ve known he’d never live in peace after that betrayal.”
His words are jagged knives to my heart, yet some of the meaning is lost on me, and at the moment, I could care less. My worst fears are about to come true, and I know my odds against this adversary are about as bad as they can be.
He steps closer, the descent of his zipper as loud in my ears as gunfire. I scuttle back, dragging the wrench with me to the sound of his gritty, phlegmy laughter.
“Be thankful it’s me and not his brother, sweet little kitty. He’d rape you with his knives before his cock.”
His words sicken me, but my shoulders hit the cold, stone wall, and my muscles tense in preparation to fight.
But I’m not a fighter. I never have been.
When Sam would practice his wrestling moves on me, I’d usually end up hurt and crying, running to the safety of my mom.
I can’t do that here and now, and when he grips my ankle, my fingers let the cool metal slip between them.
It crashes to the ground, the sound igniting something in me, and I kick out at his decrepit face, connecting with flesh and bone.
His head whips to the side, and all goes utterly still and awfully quiet.
Slowly, he turns his furious face back to mine.
“Bitch,” he seethes, releasing my ankle and reeling back, his palm hitting my cheek so hard that the inside splits against my teeth and coppery blood pools beneath my tongue.
Crying, I cup my face, and when he grabs at me again, I kick and claw blindly, losing hope as the flashlight beam bounces around chaotically.
My heart thrashes so hard against my ribs that it physically aches, and pathetic sobs of surrender burst from my throat.
He yanks me to him, forcing me to fall onto my back, my skull cracking on the hard ground.
Dizzy, it takes me a moment to come to my senses, and by then, he’s climbed atop me, those sinewy muscles alarmingly strong.
I get a few good scratches and slaps in, but the bastard grips my throat and lifts before slamming my head into the concrete again.
Blackness pulses at the edges of my vision as my head throbs.
The hot flesh of his length bounces against my thigh as he readies himself, the sick fuck trembling in excitement.
From the looming darkness in my brain, I can hear a deep, warning growl from somewhere behind us, and the man becomes distracted for long enough that his hold on my throat relents.
Poppy hisses and spits at him as he throws the flashlight at her; all the while, my fingers reach for the wrench, just barely brushing against the metal.
“Fucking cat, go!” he booms. All I want to do is sleep, a warmth seeping from the back of my skull. But I buck my hips in an attempt to unseat him, and it works for a moment, just long enough for me to gain purchase on the ground and grip the wrench.
I just have no hope of lifting the damn thing from this angle and with one hand.
“Stupid cunt,” he grits out, backhanding me so hard I see nothing but stars, my hand falling limp by my only weapon. “All you bitches are good for is breeding and fucking and dying. Kage’s mommy lasted the longest. Even I got a turn with her. And now I’ll have my fun with you.”
He pries my legs apart, and I sob to the darkness, my limbs not obeying direction from my mind any longer, the pool of blood behind my head growing too fast. The heat of his rigid penis against my thigh makes me choke on vomit and tears, and he rams himself into my entrance, stuck because I’m not wet.
He tries again, pumping and thrusting while I burn from the inside out and my vision fades.
The last thing I do before blackness consumes me is scream to the void and pray he will hear me.
“Kage!”