Chapter 33
Allie
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse.
Lying here for hours, staring at the ceiling, I consciously measure every single breath I take. Not only to keep myself calm, but to keep from waking the man draped over me all this time. He’s heavy and sleeping contentedly. Torturing me.
This endless night has been the longest of my life, filled with nothing but questions. How do I get away? How long do I have before he wants more than simple contact like this? What is he going to expect from me?
I know the answer to that one, and every time my thoughts brush up against the sickening idea of having sex with him, I have to bite my lip hard to keep from whimpering. I tasted blood the last time.
Now, with nothing but darkness outside the window, I feel it against my leg. Something hard. Something that makes me clamp my mouth tightly shut so I won’t gag when his erection pokes me.
He’s still asleep, and I know he can’t help it, but what happens when he wakes? What do I do if he wants to do something about it? I can’t take it. I have fought so hard for so long—it feels like forever. And I’ve made it through in one way or another.
But this? This might be what breaks me. Because now, I’m alone.
For a moment, after hours spent listening to him snore while he cuddles close to me, the idea of giving in is tempting.
Letting go. Not fighting. Disconnecting and checking out.
That way, I won’t have to feel anything.
I won’t have to think. I won’t have to remember.
It might be my only way of protecting myself in the end. Shielding my mind from brutal reality.
But no matter how many times I try to convince myself that’s the way to go, something deep inside won’t accept it. Whatever is left of my strength and my pride. It wants to fight. It wants to find a way through this, even if I don’t see the way in front of me yet. I have to believe it’s there.
By the time he starts to stir for real, like he’s waking up, I’ve made up my mind. I am going to get out of this, because nobody is coming to rescue me.
The first step: I need to make him believe I’m happy to be here. It means ignoring my fear and disgust when he lifts his head from my chest. I didn’t realize how heavy it was until now, when it’s gone.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says with a tender smile that turns my stomach. “How did you sleep?”
I’ve always had kind of a weird sense of humor. It would drive Mom nuts, the way I would laugh when she was being serious. My laughter would only make her angrier, which would make me laugh more. Not to be nasty or anything. I just couldn’t help it.
That’s why I want to laugh now. Fatigue and exhaustion and a clear sense of how absurd this situation is.
Instead of telling him the truth, that I didn’t sleep a wink, I tell another lie. “Great. Thank you. It’s so peaceful here, isn’t it?” I need to find out where I am. I don’t want to come right out and ask in case it makes him suspicious. Then he might never answer any questions.
“It is, isn’t it? Far enough away from the road that you can’t hear anything. I always knew this was where we would end up.” Instead of getting up, it’s like he’s snuggling closer to me. The way people do first thing in the morning.
The way Kade and I would.
Don’t scream. Don’t show him. My jaw hurts from pretending to smile, but I don’t have any choice. I need to make him believe I’m happy. “Did you pick this place just for me?”
“No, this is where I grew up. This was my daddy’s place. I’ve been fixin’ it up for a long time, whenever I had a chance to come out.” His eyes narrow a little, and his tone turns sharp. Clipped. “And then I didn’t have a job anymore, so I didn’t have anything better to do.”
Change the subject. Turn it around before he gets mad. “Well, it means you had time to make everything more comfortable.”
Oh, thank God. He smiles again. “I knew you would appreciate it. You’re not like those other immature and shallow girls your age. You’re smart and wise beyond your years.”
He says it with tenderness. It makes me crazy.
The way he really thinks he knows me just like I thought I knew him.
I guess we were both wrong. All the times I went to him, all the times he found me pouting and sulking and cheered me up.
Was it always an excuse to get closer to me, those moments we spent talking?
Did he always pretend to be my friend when he really wanted more?
“I can’t wait to see more of the place.” And the land around it, but I can’t mention that. How can I bring it up without being obvious?
He stifles a yawn before shrugging. “There’s really not that much to see. It’s not the kind of house you’re used to living in. But you don’t care about things like that, do you?” His smile is sweet and adoring and sickening. “That’s not who you are. That’s not my Allie.”
Oh no. I can barely pull in a strangled breath when he stretches his neck, brushing his lips against my cheek. It makes my skin crawl and my stomach churn. His lips are soft, his kisses tender, and I almost recoil before I can stop myself.
It’s his gentle, satisfied sigh that’s the worst. “Oh, Allie,” he whispers in my ear. The scruff on his cheek is like sandpaper, scraping my skin. “Allie…”
I hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut when his hand moves up my side, tracing my waist, fingers pressing in before he brushes his thumb over the side of my boob.
My skin crawls, and every part of me begs to throw him off, to kick him and scream and spit in his face.
If I did, there’s no way I could guarantee that I would survive.
But it would probably feel really good at the moment.
No, I can’t throw my life away like that. And I can’t let panic take over. He thinks he loves me. I have to use that.
His hand creeps around like he’s thinking about palming me. His ragged breath is hot against my face. “Allie… I’ve waited so long for this…”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I squeak out.
He freezes. “Right now?” he whispers, like maybe I’ll change my mind or something.
“Yes, I’m sorry, it’s been hours.” He makes a frustrated sort of sound. “I didn’t want to wake you up,” I add. “I’ve had to go for a while now, but you were sleeping so soundly.”
Tension eases from his muscles before he clicks his tongue. “You’re always thinking about others. But I can’t have you making yourself sick. If you need something, you have to tell me so.”
I need to go home! I need Mom and Kade and Saint! “Thank you,” I whisper.
I can’t help trembling with relief when he pushes himself off me for the first time since he lay down. “Come on. I’ll show you the way.”
He extends a calloused hand like I can’t get up on my own, but I have to take it.
I have to accept the gesture because I fear what he’ll do otherwise.
I’m in a cage with a rabid animal, doing everything I can to keep it from attacking.
I have to believe he won’t hurt me… but I’m not going to give him any reason to, either.
Not if I can help it. Not when it took nothing for him to bash in Jackson’s skull.
“This is really nice,” I offer even as I recoil inside when he leads me through a pretty sad, bleak little shack. Outside the bedroom is one large room that serves as the entire living space, with a sink and a small stove in the far corner.
A tiny bathroom is located to the left of the bedroom, and he opens the door now with a flourish. “There you go.”
I’m not comfortable with his energy right now.
He’s hopeful, like a little boy who has been waiting for a present for a very long time.
I can only imagine that he expects to take me back to bed once I’m finished.
“Thank you. Be right back.” I have to consciously keep from slamming the door shut between us.
It’s not the same as escaping, but it’s the first few moments I’ve spent alone since this whole nightmare started.
I touch my forehead to the wood, eyes closed against the tears that spring up.
What am I going to do?
It’s obvious he’s done work here with me in mind, adding hand towels with flowers embroidered on them and the same floral curtains that hang in the bedroom.
Of course, I try to open the window right away, but it’s stuck.
It’s too small for me to fit through, anyway.
Beyond the old, grimy glass is nothing but trees, whose bare branches click together in the wind like bony fingers.
I don’t know what time it is, but sunrise has to be coming soon.
It just has to be. I mean, I’d been lying there forever.
He taps on the door, and I jump. “Are you okay in there?”
Quickly, I pull down my leggings and pee. “Be right out!” Fuck, I sound unhinged. Who wouldn’t, I guess.
I have to keep him out of the bedroom. I need to keep him talking, too. The more information I can get, the better my chances will be of getting out of here and finding safety. I take my time washing my hands, breathing as slowly as I can.
I look absolutely haggard in the cracked mirror above the chipped sink. It’s obvious I couldn’t sleep. There’s a haunted, panicked look in my bloodshot eyes. I can do this. I have to do this.
He’s waiting so close to the door when I swing it open, I bet he had his ear pressed to it. Before he has a chance to say anything, I ask, “Is there any food in the kitchen? I can make something to eat. It’s the least I can do for you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I didn’t bring you here to take care of me. I’m taking care of you.” He reaches for my hand, and his fingers brush against mine. “I thought maybe we could go back to bed.”