Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Kylie
Exactly eleven little lines—which denoted days that I was aware of—from the day they stuck me in this shit hole, Martin Calloway paid me a visit.
I knew the passing of time because I had used the lid from one of the water bottles to mark the Sheetrock.
Or rather, that was my intention. The jagged etchings through the paint and paper were about an inch and a half long and little more than a ragged white scar in the wall.
But they counted. My clusters of five tallies were multiplying and, at least in my opinion, making an improvement to my surroundings.
I heard the engine of a vehicle first, followed by the slam of a car door.
It was followed a few minutes later by the sound of voices—both male—coming from somewhere in the house.
The walls were thin, so I heard anytime someone or something moved around.
In a strange way, it brought me some peace knowing that I wasn’t completely alone.
Not that I wanted the squirrels or raccoons to make a personal visit, but I figured if they could survive out here, I probably could, too.
Granted, I doubted the four-legged critters were going to do much good if the house were to catch on fire.
The thought of me going up in flames because no one was there to unchain me from the floor had caused me more than one sleepless night.
Based on how well these people treated me, they wouldn’t give me a fleeting thought when they ran out into fresh air while I succumbed to the smoke and flames, but still.
Speaking of the chain in the floor … it wasn’t coming loose, but I was doing my damnedest to make it so.
I spent far too much time twisting and jerking the bolt, attempting to free it from the wood to no avail.
It had to be secured in a joist because it wasn’t giving an inch, and I had the blisters on my hands to prove it.
Not wanting to feel small and helpless, I got to my feet and moved to the far side of the room when I heard someone on the other side of the door.
The rattle and clank of the chain had just ceased when the door opened, and Martin stepped into the room.
His gaze swung around all four corners before coming to land on me.
In my mind, I was lunging at him, wrapping the chain around his neck and squeezing until his eyes bugged out of his face.
In reality, I was staring at him like a deer in the headlights, bracing to be bulldozed by four thousand pounds of steel, aluminum, and glass.
“I see you made yourself at home,” he said, his tone bored.
I didn’t respond as I slowly slid down the wall, resting on my haunches. I was too weak to stand for long, but I was hoping he didn’t realize that.
He looked around again, as though admiring the space. I noticed he did not close the door. Smart man. Probably shouldn’t seal yourself into a room with a feral woman.
“I guess it could be worse,” Martin noted, stepping to the side and leaning against the wall. All he had to do was shift to the left and back one step, and he would be out of my reach. Interesting. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was scared of me.
“Worse?” I snorted. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”
He smirked, his gaze swinging to the red bucket I’d been forced to use since I’d finished off all the water and protein bars they’d given me.
Four and a half protein bars (half of one had been sacrificed to the ants) over eleven days wasn’t nearly enough to sustain me for any length of time, but I got the impression that was Martin’s intention.
Rather than pelt him with questions about why he was there or what he wanted, I kept my mouth shut. We spent the next few minutes in silence, a staring contest ensuing.
I hated to admit defeat, but I was the one who broke first, unable to continue staring at the man who was responsible for this.
“Can you at least tell me why I’m here?” I muttered, my gaze shifting to the floor. “Why would you bother to keep me alive for”—I flopped my hands up to signal my surroundings—“this?”
“You want the long version?”
I peered up at him and fought the urge to roll my eyes.
His response was a devious grin.
I wasn’t prone to hating people, but I truly despised this guy. He seemed to find great amusement in my discomfort.
“Are you familiar with the Adorites?” he asked after a few tense minutes of silence. “Maximillian, specifically. Or his father, Samuel?”
I tried not to react, but I was too hot, too tired, too … everything, to do a good job of concealing it. Plus, telling him that Maximillian preferred “Max” likely wasn’t going to benefit me.
So I waited. And I wasn’t disappointed.
“I thought that would be the case.”
I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t necessary. Martin evidently liked the sound of his own voice.
He shifted on his feet before crossing one ankle over the other.
“Back when I was a green, wet-behind-the-ears special agent, I was assigned to a task force to take down the Adorites. In the beginning, the case was thrilling, and it gave me purpose. I felt as though I’d found exactly where I belonged, on the right side of the law, ready and willing to take down the bad guys. ”
I watched him, waiting for more.
“Two years into that case, I realized just how naive I’d been.
” He flashed a smile. “By then, I had a wife and a son on the way. The sex had become as repetitive and tedious as my day-to-day on the job, but I pushed through. I had a couple of CIs who helped to alleviate the monotony, gave me something to look forward to. I had a few hobbies that kept me from getting bored, a couple of side hustles.”
It was clear he wasn’t referring to being an influencer on TikTok, but I didn’t comment. I could see in his eyes that he was hoping I would probe, but I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.
“You’re wondering what side hustles,” he taunted. “Well, I’ll tell you.”
I didn’t doubt that he would.
“See, I was rising in the ranks, but unfortunately, a government job doesn’t pay all that well.
Not even those with the big titles. Most people go into the public sector wanting to do good deeds.
I wanted that, too. But I also wanted a nice car, so rather than turn in all those ne’er-do-wells, I decided to supplement my income. ”
“You blackmailed people,” I stated, hating that I could already see this ugly picture he was painting.
“You call it blackmail. I prefer to think of it as urging people to be the best they can be.” He flashed white teeth. “That was about the time I met your mother.”
My heart skipped a beat and my mouth went dry. I stared at him, clamping my lips shut, refusing to ask the questions burning on my tongue.
“Pretty little high school teacher banging her student.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You didn’t know.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Oh, yes. You and your father probably thought she was dedicating her time to expanding young minds, but no, she was rolling around naked with a couple of young boys. I can’t even call them young men because at fifteen…” He smiled again. “You get the picture.”
The revelation probably should’ve surprised me, but it didn’t. I’d suspected that my mother had been spending too much time with some of her male students, but back then, I had been a teenager myself, not caring about anyone but me.
“She landed herself a live one,” Martin continued. “A classmate of yours, I believe.”
I didn’t want him to say a name, but I stared at him, waiting.
“Decker Bromwell,” he drawled slowly, his eyes imploring me, clearly anticipating a response.
“So?” I blurted, ignoring the creepy-crawly feeling that inched its way up my back.
The thought of my mother and a kid who’d been my age.
And yes, I remembered Decker. Not well, but he was teetering in the ol’ memory bank.
He hadn’t been incredibly popular, but I had to wonder if that was by design.
Had he been withdrawn and quiet because he’d been hanging out with my mother?
Yuck. The thought made bile surge in my throat.
“That’s actually how I came to know your mother.
Through Decker.” He was animated at this point, his hands moving as he spoke.
“Let’s just say I’d been maneuvering chess pieces on the board for some time, and Vincent, Decker’s father—who’d spent more time with a bottle than his own son—had been the perfect patsy.
At least until I met your mother. Do you even know the lengths she went to keep her job? ”
His smile was slimy.
“Oh, if you could’ve seen her then.” Martin smirked, his eyes glittering with pride.
“That boy claimed to be in love with her. And she clearly enjoyed the attention. After all, when she should’ve been at home with her husband and two daughters, she was flat on her back, naked, letting that boy take pictures of her. ”
“What is your point?” I snapped, not wanting to hear another word about the grotesque things my mother did with one of her students.
Martin continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “I was making a name for myself back then, and I knew an opportunity when I saw one. Who better to do my dirty work than a warped and twisted school teacher banging a student at every opportunity? Did you know I caught them in her car?”
My nose scrunched, the thought disturbing.
“In the parking lot of the school, no less. He had his head between her legs…” He laughed softly. “She wasn’t teaching him arithmetic, that’s for sure. Perhaps about the birds and the bees.”
Now he was just talking to get a rise out of me. I held back my reactions as best I could.
“Being the diligent FBI agent that I was, I did my homework on both your mother and Decker. I’d become an old pro at that point.
While I was thoroughly enjoying using your mother’s fear against her, I actually needed her to help me in my endeavors.
She was ripe for the plucking, desperate to clear her name.
” Martin sighed. “God, she was desperate and eager.”