Chapter 25 #2
These last two days of captivity are the hardest ones to bear. Idleness is no longer possible. Reading is too closely associated with Damien.
My captor may not be watching me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t derive some satisfaction from breaking his stupid rules. Sitting down on the couch, I turn on the TV.
All the channels are still talking about the Cole murder. I don’t want to hear about it, because it reminds me of the time when I thought Damien cared. But there’s nothing else on, so I sit back, close my eyes, and let the words drone on around me.
“… A promising politician, who swore he’d wipe out widespread corruption in Astley and Oakdale… Jenna, let’s talk about the new breakthrough in the case. We’ve just heard about the nanochip that could have brought down the most powerful people in the state. Only now, it’s missing.”
“That’s right, Hannah. A tiny piece of plastic with a huge amount of power.
Its disappearance is being investigated on a federal level.
Now, Hannah, I want to make clear that what I’m about to say is just a rumor.
But where there’s smoke, sometimes, there’s fire, and the gossip about this is getting louder.
We’re hearing that Devil is being investigated… ”
I bolt up, my heart thundering in my chest.
For just a moment, all anger melts and cold panic nearly strangles me. Damien is being investigated. If they uncover what happened, he could go to prison.
This could even be grounds for the death sentence.
The ache that has continued to hum beneath the layers of anger morphs into something far more potent, something I’ve experienced once more, but never this strongly.
I want to protect him.
But he won’t let me. He won’t have anything to do with me. He doesn’t care, so I don’t see why I should.
I sink back, letting my anger enfold me again, willing everything else to disappear.
Sleep doesn’t come easily tonight. I toss and turn, cold sweat breaking out all over my body. When I finally succumb to an uneasy slumber, the nightmares takes over.
Only this time they’re different. The bloody hands are still there, but new scenes have been added to my nightly torment.
Cruel eyes gazing at me. A belt raised, over and over, brutalizing my flesh. Cold hands surrounding me like a blizzard. Coldness, everywhere.
And then the nightmares morphs into one I know by heart.
Beer on his breath, his face thick and covered in fur, his beady eyes glinting cruelly. He’s the Monster and he bends over me, giving me his nightly promise. You can’t escape. You have nowhere to go. You’re stuck with me.
Twenty-nine nights he said it. I counted. Twenty-nine.
The broken form of her, lying on the ground, her head cracked open, her eyes unseeing. Not my mama. Just a pile of dead cells, of slowly decomposing flesh.
The knife in his stomach.
The stain on the ceiling. The old, ripped-up book. Peter Pan. Oh, no, baby, he’s a man. All men are alike. They take what they want, and leave you lying in the dirt.
Peter Pan has disappeared, and the stain on the ceiling isn’t a bear anymore. Just a stain.
The Beast.
The nightmare always ends with him. The Beast.
At least it always used to. But that’s changed, too. Now, I hear a female voice.
Stop. Stop. Stop!
I sit up, my heart hammering in my chest, my body drenched with sweat.
The quiet woman’s voice. I know where I heard it before.
It was when I stole the perfume bottle. I never saw the person who called out to me. Who told me to stop. But it was the quiet woman. I’m sure of it.
She was there. She saw what really happened. She must have.
I don’t have the nanochip, I never did. They stripped me bare, they checked all my belongings. They know I don’t have it. But they don’t know I never did.
Only she does, because she saw the whole thing.
The nanochip was in the perfume package before, but it wasn’t when I took it. Someone else got to it first.
She witnessed it all, but she didn’t say one word to defend me. Why?
I massage my temples. I feel that I’ve got all the pieces, and if I were a bit smarter, they’d fall into place. I can taste the answer. But my brain feels slow, sluggish. I sigh, and although it’s only 4 a.m., I get up. I know I won’t be able to sleep anymore.
I head into the shower and let the hot water wake me up.
Afterward, I get dressed, careful to choose once more a dress with pockets, where I can conceal my only weapons: the knife and the key.
Then I grab the largest bag I can find and stuff it with a few outfits. The pink sparkly dress, although I can’t imagine it will be of any use to me. The heart locket. Some basic necessities and a few more dresses, though right now, I desperately wish I could find a pair of pants.
I have worse problems to worry about, though.
Problems such as somehow being involved in the disappearance of a nanochip that’s already left an entire family dead. And if they’re dead, I don’t even want to think about what will happen to me if I step out from under Damien’s protection.
If that protection is even still in place. If it ever was. I’m probably a dead girl already. At least I’ll have put up a fight.
I slip a hand into my pocket, touching the key, a sudden thought popping into my head.
What if I didn’t wait for Angel? What if I escaped by myself?
But the next moment, I brush that thought away.
I might be able to get out of the apartment, but there are so many protections in place.
There’s a code for the elevator, cards for every door.
Plus, there are all the surveillance cameras.
I didn’t even make it out of the door with the stapler, and I doubt I’d get much further this time.
Vaguely, I wonder how Angel will manage to pass through all those levels of protection. But they found out what happened to me at the poker game. I have no doubt they know what they’re doing.
The quiet woman walks in with the breakfast tray, and I eye her thoughtfully. Something isn’t right, but I can’t quite figure out what.
She saw everything that happened but didn’t say a word to defend me. And now, she’s given me the means to escape.
I have the strange feeling I’m playing right into her hands. Or, if not her hands, someone’s hands. But pride makes me push my misgivings away. I’m determined to resist, and if doing so costs me my life, so be it.
The quiet woman takes my tray without a word, but she looks up at me and seems satisfied by what she sees. I guess she knows I kept the key.
-
I spend the rest of the day in a comatose state, too anxious to sleep, too anxious to do anything but wait.
I avoid the television like a plague, for fear of accidentally hearing more things about the Cole case that might send me spiraling.
I pick up one book, then another, but I can’t seem to focus.
Time never passed so slowly before. Not when I was waiting for Damien to return, after each of the times he’d made me happier than I’d ever been, only to leave so abruptly. Not even when I was waiting after he’d handcuffed me to the bed.
Remembering those times he made me so happy with just his touch makes my resolve waver, but only for a moment. He’s not coming back anyway. His touch belongs to the past.
At last, the hand on the clock shows 12 a.m.
I stand up, grab my large bag, and head toward the door. There, I hesitate again, wondering where Angel is waiting for me. Am I supposed to try to go downstairs? Do they really know about the code, the cards and the cameras?
I take one last sweeping look around the room, then slip the key in the lock, my heart hammering.
I shouldn’t have worried so much. Because when I open the door, a man is standing right in front of me.
He’s tall, very tall, though probably not as tall as Damien. But Damien has never stood exactly like this, towering over me, as if he’s determined to make me fully aware of his height.
This man has curly brown hair, a smooth, dark face, a straight nose, small, black eyes, and pink lips that are currently parted into a wide smile, revealing a set of surprisingly sharp teeth.
Like a shark, I think with a jolt.
He brings a hand up, and after a second of confusion, I realize he wants to shake hands with me.
I lift my own trembling hand, and he clasps it in his.
“Hello, Seraphina,” he murmurs in a low, full voice. “I’m Gabriel.”