Chapter 7
SEVEN
Blakely
Consciousness was so close. It was within my reach yet impossible to grasp, slipping through my fingers each time I tried to find it with my exhausted mind.
I don’t know how much longer I fought until I was finally awake enough to feel the hard ground beneath me and the stench of mildew and mold in the stagnant air. Each breath I took was a shallow, desperate drag of air, but eventually, I was aware enough to slowly open my eyes.
Only there was no change. I blinked again and again, but there was only darkness. Which was when the panic started.
My brain worked overtime trying to come up with the last thing I remembered. As elusive as consciousness had been, my memory was just as out of reach.
My name, I thought. Let’s start with something easy.
My name was Blakely Warrier-West. What else ? I asked myself.
I moved around a lot as a kid, I thought, but I spent most of my time in Arkansas. I didn’t have a good relationship with my parents, and I was an only child, although I’d always wanted a sibling.
I continued like that for a while. I remembered the college I went to, my only childhood friend’s name, and even where I worked. The bar, Murphy’s Law, the laughter and the chaos and my friends.
After a few seconds, I was able to name them all—Amanda, Reed, Josh, James, Devon, Luke, and his new girlfriend, Hazel.
I flexed my fingers and found they were stiff. I tilted my head from side to side and winced at the pain that shot down my spine.
My legs shuffled, and a chain rattled. I did it again and whimpered when I realized there was something solid and unmoving latched around my left ankle. I could feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes, but it became clear after several foggy moments, maybe minutes, that I couldn’t cry. My body was so dehydrated that I couldn’t form tears.
That’s when it all came barreling back. Every memory was suddenly there like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. I sucked in a sharp, ragged breath with the impact and sat up, reaching behind me for something to lean against. The chain rattled and echoed through the space as I moved, mocking me and reminding me that I likely couldn’t move far.
The brick wall behind me was damp and cold, but it did what I intended and held me up while I tried to slow my heart rate and labored breaths.
A bone-deep, terrified shiver racked my body, and a sob broke free from my dried lips. The pain radiating through my body was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. Pain for Hazel and Luke. For my friends that I let this happen to.
I’d made so many mistakes. I’d done everything wrong, and now I had no way to fix any of it. Trying to protect everyone, I’d ended up doing the opposite. They were all in danger because of me.
I reached forward, preparing to test the strength of the shackle around my ankle when there was a creak to my left and the dark room was drowned in light. I threw my arms up and slammed my eyes shut, cringing away from the sudden brightness.
But as quickly as the light appeared, it was gone. So quick that I didn’t get a chance to take in my surroundings or figure out where I was.
Darkness flooded back in, and I choked down the cry that lodged in my throat. To my left, somewhere in that never-ending darkness, footsteps approached. The rhythmic thud every second sounded like the person was walking down stairs.
I held my breath as the footsteps neared and tried to scoot closer to the wall. But there was nowhere for me to go.
The steps stopped, and I could feel the person’s presence lingering to my left. So close I could reach out and touch them. So close I wanted to retreat into myself and never appear again.
My entire body tensed, trying to prepare for whatever was bound to happen next. My heartbeat was deafening in my ears, and each breath I took pierced my lungs.
Something scraped across the floor and hit my left shackled foot. I shied away from the sound—from whatever it was that hit my foot—but nothing else happened.
There was a moment of complete silence before the steps began to retreat, scuffing against the floor and heading back the way they came. In complete darkness, I had nothing else to focus on and no other clues on where I might be. So I listened to their steps move farther away and prayed they never came back.
They ascended the stairs, slower than they had descended them only moments earlier, and with each sound in the opposite direction, a small, very small amount of relief flooded my panic-ridden body.
But the sound stopped abruptly. And the pure darkness closed in on me.
“Welcome back,” a deep voice said so quietly that I almost didn’t hear it. “I missed you.” There was silence, and I thought he’d left until he said, “She was right—you’re so broken already, but not nearly enough. Not yet.”
And the light filled the space once again. Only I was more ready for it the second time and quickly glanced up where the person—a man based on his build and his large shoulders—was surrounded by the light flooding in from the doorway at the top of the stairs.
I couldn’t make out much more than that before the door closed, and the darkness enveloped me. But it only lasted a few seconds until a new light blinked on above me. I blinked several times, rubbing my eyes and squinting at the room around me.
A new, swift wave of panic and terror ripped through me. The intensity of which made ragged sobs tear up my throat.
The yellow-tinged light barely illuminated the room, but it was enough. Enough for me to take in my surroundings.
Bare brick lined all four walls and were caked in something that I guessed contributed to the damp, earthy smell. I spotted two windows—one high on the opposite wall and boarded up with weathered plywood. The other was on the shorter wall to my right and was covered with a shaggy black curtain.
In that same corner, there was a toilet missing a seat and the lid over the tank.
I could feel the phantom sensation of tears I wanted to cry running down my cheeks.
To my left, there was an open staircase I wasn’t surprised to see. Each step was made of wood that appeared to be as old as the house and was severely warped. At the top was a door. I had to squint a little, but I could tell it was much newer than anything else in the dark space.
A pile of old furniture and empty frames sat in the empty space beneath the stairs. Scanning for anything else in the pitch-black corner of the room, I caught sight of something reflective.
I braced myself before I slowly lowered my eyes. Fastened around my left ankle was a large silver cuff. It was attached to a thick, braided chain that was anchored to the wall near my hip .
I tugged at the metal, scratching my skin with my nails as I tried to pry it off. But it was of no use. I turned around and refocused my efforts on the chain. Wrenching and pulling at it, a defeated whimper spilled from my lips when it didn’t give at all.
So focused on the cuff around my ankle and being chained to the wall, I completely missed the tray laying near my foot until I inadvertently kicked it.
The small glass of water on the tray nearly tumbled over into the bowl of Cheerios beside it. The only other item on the tray was a thin peanut butter sandwich.
I stared at the tray of food for so long my eyes went painfully dry.
I wanted that water. My mouth felt like I’d been chewing on cotton, and my lips were miserably chapped. I needed that water, but I didn’t know if it was worth the risk.
With a shaking hand, I reached for it. Weighing the pros and cons quickly, I hoped that if it was laced with something, it would do whatever it was going to quickly. I smelled it first, then took a sip. Dying of dehydration sounded worse than whatever might be in store for me.
I waited several seconds before I took another sip. When nothing happened, I took a large gulp and set the half-empty glass back on the tray.
The food was less than appetizing, and I was too terrified to even consider if I was hungry or not.
My eyelids grew heavy as I stared around the room. Pulling my knees to my chest, I wrapped my arms around my midsection and fought the heavy onslaught of drowsiness as long as I could.
I was completely alone but for the man who was upstairs. Who was keeping me there for some reason.
It was impossible to know how long it had been since we were at the restaurant. It could have been hours or days since Valerie put her sadistic plan in motion. Her vindictive ways finally coming to a head. She wanted Luke, and if she couldn’t have him, no one could.
She’d had him and lost him, and that was too much for her to handle.
The room went dark. No light filtered in from behind the blocked windows. No sounds emanated from beyond the walls.
Once again, nearing the edge of consciousness, I prayed my friends were better off than I was. That they were together, and Valerie was no longer a problem. That they’d figured a way out of the mess I’d contributed to.
I prayed and hoped that one day I’d get the chance to tell them how sorry I was.
But sleep won as a single tear finally slipped free.