2. Leona
LEONA
I t’s getting dark again.
I gaze up at the narrow window of my cell, which is barely wide enough for any light to come through. Even that is thin now, weak. I’ve been in here since last night, and it won’t be long before night falls again.
My eyes are burning—a night without sleep will do that. Will I be able to sleep tonight? That probably has to do with whether somebody actually comes in to see me, which no one has since I was thrown in here.
My stomach hurts. How long has it been since I ate? Dinner last night, and I wasn’t exactly hungry. Too worked up over what I knew would happen in a handful of hours. I only forced myself through a few bites for the sake of looking normal and pushed food around on my plate after that.
Was that what first set off suspicion? There are eyes on us at all times—always.
Then again, now that I have had all this time to lie here on this wooden plank that’s supposed to serve as a bed and think about it, Rebecca has probably been watching me more intently than ever since I asked if I could leave. I can’t believe I was naive enough to think I could get away with it.
I’ve gone through three of the four water bottles left for me, as much as I don’t love the idea of peeing in a bucket in the corner. The air is so warm and dry in here I couldn’t help but drink.
Not to mention the way I cried a river once I was alone. I needed the hydration.
How much longer is this going to go on? Knowing Rebecca, as long as she feels like it. I’m supposed to be learning a lesson here.
She’s probably spent the entire day coming up with ways to punish me. Right away, I want to turn my thoughts away from the ugly possibilities, but I can’t afford to do that. I need to face reality, so I’m ready for it when it comes.
There’s no getting ready for the sound of the lock clicking. My heart takes off like a triphammer, and I can’t keep from shivering even if it’s warm in here. I sit up, knees against my chest, like that will do anything to protect me.
Especially once I get a look at Rebecca’s face. Of course, she would want to be here. Whatever she’s planned, she’ll want to see it put into action.
Behind her are two men I recognize from around the compound. Men and women aren’t allowed to spend time together except during church service and mealtimes—even then, we sit on opposite sides of the room. And we aren’t allowed to speak to each other.
So these men aren’t strangers, even if I have seen them around. Henry and Elijah, father and son. They’re both tall, broad-shouldered, and lean but muscled. They share the same dark eyes and hair, though the older of the two has a little gray at his temples.
He’s not the one who holds my attention, anyway. It’s the younger one, the son, who I’ve noticed more than once from across the dining hall or when we’re supposed to be praying. Once, he caught me looking, and I forgot to breathe.
There isn’t exactly any time to think about that right now since they’re not here as friends. Henry sneers like he’s happy to see me here. I’ve never even spoken to him. Why would he be happy about this?
Rebecca folds her hands in front of her, standing with the men to her left and right. Elijah, unlike his dad, is unreadable. He could be angry, or he could be bored. There’s no reading him.
And no time to try before Rebecca clears her throat. “Leona, I’ve wrestled with the pain and disappointment you’ve caused me all day. I can’t begin to tell you how disappointed I am with your behavior. After everything we’ve done for you here, this is how you choose to behave?”
I know she’s not actually asking a question she expects an answer to, so I don’t bother saying a word. All I can do is try to look sorry while doing my best to ignore Henry’s angry glare burning holes into my skull. What is this man’s problem?
It doesn’t take long for me to figure it out, at least partly. “Henry and Elijah have generously consented to watch over you in their home until the next delivery.”
Delivery? I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t offer anything else. I doubt I would get an answer if I asked.
“Consider this an act of true mercy,” she murmurs as Elijah approaches, hands outstretched.
Reaching for me, ready to grab me. “As I said, I have wrestled with this. And there was a point, I’m sorry to say, when the notion of leaving you here until the delivery seemed the best reaction considering the severity of your transgression. ”
I can barely keep track of the nonsense she’s spewing.
I’m too busy getting manhandled by Elijah, who doesn’t say a word or even look at me while pulling me from the would-be bed.
He might as well be a robot, following orders without thinking about it.
How can anybody be this cruel? It’s like I’m not even a person.
“You’re hurting me,” I finally have to whimper when his fingers bite into my arm as he leads me out of the cell and into the fresh air. “Don’t squeeze so hard!”
It’s not the pain that makes me feel frantic, panicky, like there’s something ready to explode out of my chest. It’s that cold, uncaring attitude. I need him to react somehow instead of just staring straight ahead, hardly blinking.
My body acts before I can think, and the next thing I know, I’m kicking him in the shin.
He still doesn’t say a word. All he does is growl and bare his teeth like an animal before bending and throwing me over his shoulder.
“Are you serious?” Evidently, yes, since he marches with Henry following behind us, snorting like this is all a big joke.
Instead of taking me back to the bunkhouse, we end up in a small brick cottage not far from Rebecca’s house. I’ve heard people talk about these smaller, individual houses. The homes the elders and their families live in. They’re given more liberties and luxuries than the average group members.
I wish I could look around and see if there’s any way to escape, but Elijah wastes no time marching me up the stairs and into a room at the end of the hall.
“Tie her to the bed,” Henry orders once we’re in there, making my heart lurch. This is getting worse by the second, and by the time Elijah drops me on a twin bed, I’m fighting breathless sobs.
“Don’t do this,” I whisper while Elijah uses rope to tie my wrists to the metal bed frame.
I try like hell to look him in the eye, to reach whatever humanity is in him.
But no matter how I crane my neck or twist my head around, he won’t look at me.
He’s too busy tying tight knots. At least he’s not nasty or vicious about it, but he doesn’t leave any room for me to slide my hands out of the ropes, either.
I hear his father laughing softly as Elijah leaves the room and closes the door without either of them giving me a clue about what happens next.
How long am I going to be here? And oh, my god, what are they going to do to me?
How did Rebecca describe it? They’ll be taking care of me.
There was something sinister in her voice when she said that.
They wouldn’t… no, they couldn’t. Rebecca would never let them rape me. But then again, how would she know? And would she care?
The knots are tight, but the rope is long enough that I’m able to move around a little.
I push myself up into a sitting position and brush stray bits of hair away from my eyes and face.
The room has obviously not been used in a long time—there’s not even a sheet on the bed, just a bare mattress and a pillow without a case.
The curtains at the window are faded and thin, like they’ve been hanging there for a long time, but the window is closed.
With all the mustiness, I could use a little fresh air in here, but I doubt they would trust me to leave a window open.
I’m sure by now everybody knows what happened.
I wonder if they’re using me as a way to keep anybody else from trying an escape. Once again, I’m an example, only this time, it’s of what not to do.
It’s fully dark by the time the door opens, making me flinch. It’s only Elijah, though I’m not sure if he’s a friend or foe yet. He could have been a lot rougher with me, but then again, the fact that he’s doing any of this in the first place doesn’t give me much hope.
Once he turns on the bedside lamp, I see he’s carrying a tray.
A plate with a sandwich on it, a bottle of water, and a banana.
Right now, it looks like a feast. As upset as I am, the hunger is worse.
And I want to keep my strength up, too. I can’t be weak and dizzy if I try to get out of this—which I have to.
I can’t just sit here and wait for the next terrible thing to happen.
The word delivery sends icy fear running down my spine.
I don’t even want to know what it means.
“Please. Can you tell me what’s happening? What is she going to do to me? I’m not asking you to try to get me out. I just want to know.”
All he does is set the tray down like he never heard a word. I’m starting to wonder if he’s even able to speak. Maybe he’s hearing impaired, too. That would explain the way he’s acting.
Instead of leaving me alone, he goes to the window and sits on a wooden chair against the wall. His dark eyes linger on me, and his handsome face is still. He’s waiting for me to eat.
Fine. The sooner I’m finished, the sooner he’ll leave me alone and stop being creepy.
A plain ham sandwich never tasted so good.
I devour the entire thing in five bites and wash it down with some water before eating the banana in record time.
All the food did was make me feel hungrier, but it will have to do for now.
Something tells me asking for more wouldn’t get me anywhere, and I’m not going to beg anybody for anything.
I already look pathetic and helpless enough.
“Can I go to the bathroom? I could use the chance to wash up a little bit.” My fingers are scraped up from last night, that useless climb up the wall. I hold them up for him to see. “And it would be nice to not pee in a bucket like I’ve been doing all day.”
Even that doesn’t seem to shock him out of his blank-faced stoicism. All he does is get up, move the tray out of the way, and untie my wrists.
But, of course, he won’t let me go on my own. At least he stops outside the small bathroom down the hall from the bedroom and closes the door, separating us. What a relief. I was almost afraid for a second that he would want to watch.
The window is much too small for me to get through, so there goes that. I run the water in the sink and wash my hands and face while taking deep breaths to calm myself down. It doesn’t work.
What am I going to do? It doesn’t seem like anything I say gets through to Elijah. He might as well be a statue. All he’s doing is following the rules, which I guess I would do in his place. I mean, I’m an example of what happens when you break the rules. He wouldn’t want to be in my place.
I need to get through to him somehow. There’s got to be a way.
Right now, there’s nothing I can do but open the door and face what happens next.
And all there is right now is an empty hallway. I look to the left and then to the right, but there’s no Elijah.
I’m a lot of things, but I’m not stupid. I can’t waste this chance to get out.
I tiptoe over the creaky floorboards, wincing when one of them squeaks loudly. Still, Elijah doesn’t appear. I take another few steps, focused on the stairs leading straight down to the front door. This time, I’m making it out. I don’t have a choice.
“What are you doing?” The voice comes along with the door to the room at the other end of the hall flying wide open. Henry storms my way, a bottle in one hand, his face flushed. “Did you get lost? You’re not supposed to be out here.”
“I—” All the air rushes out of my lungs when he pushes me against the wall.
I realize when I suck in a surprised breath that he’s drunk. He reeks like the whiskey sloshing around in the bottle and practically oozes from his pores.
“I know.” His deep, nasty laughter can only mean one thing.
“You were looking for me, weren’t you? I bet you figure you might as well have a little fun before the delivery.
I bet you’ve never been this close to a man, have you?
” He presses his large, sweaty body against me, and I have to bite back a scream.
“Please, don’t.” I turn my face away, wincing when his lips skim my earlobe. Oh, god, he’s disgusting. The food I just ate threatens to rush back up into my mouth.
Just in time, he falls back, and I realize when Elijah takes hold of me that he pulled his father away. One glimpse of his face is enough to make my blood run cold. He looks like he could kill me.
Right now, I’m just glad he’s getting me away from his father, shoving me back into the bedroom I came from. I stumble and fall at the foot of the bed before curling in a protective ball.
A breathless sob tears itself from my chest when he slams the door, leaving the two of us together in the room. His energy is so intense I can hardly breathe while he glares down at me with his hands balled up in fists.
For the first time all night, he opens his mouth and speaks in a deep, rich voice full of hatred. “You shouldn’t have done that.”