Chapter 4 #2
Grayson didn’t come back until that night, bringing food.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at me, just placed the plate on the dresser.
When he was halfway to the door again, I asked, “So why did you drug me then?” It had been eating away at me all day.
I had to know. Did he not rape me? Then what did he do?
Sell some of my organs? And yes, he said he didn’t want to fuck me, but why was I trusting any words coming out of his mouth?
He was a slimy psychopath who took pleasure in my misery.
And the woman in the photo was naked. That could only mean one thing.
He probably liked fucking with people’s minds like this.
He threw me an annoyed sidelong glance but didn’t answer me. As he reached the door I asked again, “Are you going to do it again?”
“I’m considering it, just to shut you up.”
The door closed, and I let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to drug me again. That meant my escape could happen tonight. My heart was beating in my throat with anticipation.
Fidgeting. And pacing. That’s what I did all night, careful not to step on the creaky boards.
I couldn’t lie down. I couldn’t even sit.
I’d unfolded, checked and refolded the map about a hundred times.
I was fairly certain that the upper cross was the cabin.
I had an idea of what the other X could mean, but I wasn’t going to find out.
If it indeed were the graves of the mother and little girl, I would get help for them too; have them taken home to their family to rest in peace.
There was a hiking trail to the east of the cabin that led to a campground.
That was where I was headed. I made certain to check where the sun had set, so I knew which direction to go.
The downstairs’ lights went out. They had shone through the windows onto the ground.
Now it was pitch black outside. My nerves were already shot.
What scared me more? The robbers not going to sleep so I could get away, or the noises that came from the dark outside?
But it had to be tonight. I couldn’t endure another day.
After what felt like an eternity, I snuck to the bedroom door and listened. Silence. I pushed the door open, just a smidge, trying to hear over my thundering heart. It was dark and quiet in the cabin. There was no sounds or movements.
Good. It was time. My fingers trembled as I slid the window open.
I peered out and squinted into the shadows before climbing onto the windowsill.
There was nothing underneath. My escape route was already planned out.
Only the tips of my fingers could touch the pipe that ran down the wall.
I had to lunge towards it. I prayed that it was sturdy enough to hold me, as I did just that.
Grabbing a hold of the pipe, I clung for dear life while my feet tried to find a foothold.
My sandal finally caught on a bracket keeping the pipe adhered to the wall of the cabin.
There I stayed, trying to catch my breath.
My body had slammed noisily into the cabin.
No movement inside the cabin. No one had heard. I was in the clear.
I slowly and painfully slid down the pipe. My hands were burning but I didn’t dare to let go. When I was close enough to the ground, I jumped. I had misjudged the height and angle of the ground in the dark, and tumbled to the floor, the fall knocking the wind from me.
My chest heaved noiselessly, trying to get my breath back. I had to keep moving. I was so close; I could taste freedom on my tongue.
I was going home!
I rushed to my feet, my body screaming to run, but a hand clasped painfully around my shoulder, sending a surge of electricity gushing through my body.
“Going somewhere?” His voice was calm and cool, but it cut through my tattered soul like knives.
“Let me go!” I screamed, sobbed. I tried to get loose from his grip to run, my body not ready to accept the reality yet.
He had me.
I screamed and kicked and pushed, but it was useless. Grayson was undeterred. He had me over his shoulder, hauling me back into the cabin before I had a chance to blink. I clawed at the doorway, fighting with all my might not to let him drag me back in there. I was so close!
But he did anyway. He carried me up the stairs while I fought and screamed frantically.
Grayson kicked the bedroom door closed behind him and dropped me onto the floor.
I lunged forward trying to get out the door, throwing everything I had at him, to get past him.
He threw me off him, and I hit the ground hard.
I came at him again, wild and panicked. I had to get out!
I wasn’t going to end up like them, in a bloody heap on the floor.
He pushed me down again. I saw it too late—his palm connected with my cheek.
The force of his blow reverberated through my body.
I fell backwards, staring at him in shock, clutching my stinging cheek.
I didn’t know what to expect from him next.
Did I take it too far? Did I anger him too much?
Was he going to beat me into a coma now?
Grayson was panting. “Get a fucking hold of yourself.” He wiped at his lower lip. It was bleeding. Did I do that?
Someone was banging against the door with a fist. “Grayson! What the hell is going on?” It was the woman.
He didn’t answer.
“I’m coming in!”
“No!” He turned his head towards the door to make sure she followed his order. “It’s fine.”
She didn’t seem to trust his answer because she asked again, “Is she okay?”
He looked at me again. His brow furrowed in irritation or anger. I couldn’t tell. I debated whether I should scream for the woman to help me, but I knew it would be no use. It would only anger him more. So, I stayed quiet.
“Yes, she’s fine. Go back to bed.”
There was whispering outside the door. The other man was also there. It sounded like they were arguing. A few seconds later, the floorboards creaked as they moved away. Yes, she wouldn’t have been able to help me. No one could.
I sat, my knees to my chest, silently panting. It was over. I couldn’t get away. And he was mad. He was still staring at me, but I kept my head low.
What was he going to do?
“Remember when I said that it was up to you how your time here would be?” He talked too calmly.
I couldn’t respond, couldn’t look up. An urge to crawl under the bed and hide like a child pulsed through me.
Grayson gripped the front of my shirt and pulled me off the floor.
He backed me towards the bed. It frightened me so much, that I almost lost control of my bladder.
He pushed me onto it, and I scampered backwards until my back hit the headboard.
He was on the bed too, tugging my leg down, towards him.
I was screaming again, struggling. He climbed on top of me and pinned me down before slapping me across the face. Again. It did what it was intended to do and shut me right up. Gods, how could I survive him, if I can’t fight him? All I could do was grit down and endure him.
“For the love of God, shut the fuck up!” he hissed.
He pinned my hands together above my head and pulled out a rope behind the headboard.
The same one he tied me with when he drugged me.
I sobbed while he tied me up. My hands were tightly fastened to the headboard. They couldn’t even bend at the wrist.
Grayson braced himself on his hand next to my head, sucking in air through his nose, steadying himself, before leaning down into my face.
“I would love to play with you like this, darling,” his eyes roamed from my tied-up hands down to where our bodies connected, “but I don’t fuck someone without their consent.
I’m a monster. Just not that kind.” He patted my cheek harshly, then climbed off me and the bed.
He left the room for a few minutes before returning with a hammer and nails.
He walked over to the window and started hammering the window shut.
“This is your fault, you know? I didn’t want to make you feel like a prisoner, but here we are.
” He plucked at the window. It didn’t budge. “I can’t trust you.”
He stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. There were more noises outside the door. He was doing something to the door. Then I heard it. A slide lock sliding into place. He had put a lock on the outside of the door.
The numbness took hold of me again. I had the sinking feeling that ending up in this room was my fate. And there was no escaping fate. The little omen I had experienced in the bank was now fully realised. My time had run out.
The crow was back, pacing the length of the windowsill as it watched me. But it was the witching hour. What was it doing up? Did my screaming wake him?
Grayson came back in, satisfied with his handiwork. “This,” he gestured around the room, “is the consequences of your actions. You will be tied to my bed until I feel I can trust you again.”
He turned for the door but stopped. He was quiet for a moment, then turned his head to look at me, seemingly puzzled. “Were you really going to run into those woods? In the middle of the night?”
I didn’t answer.
He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re either a fuck of a lot braver than most people or impressively stupid.”