Chapter 5 #2
The ‘die trying’ part didn't scare her in the least. If she couldn’t find a way to escape these men’s clutches, then maybe she could push them hard enough until they decided she was more trouble than she was worth and they should just cut their losses and be done with her.
Except this time as Maya looked around the room, she found it empty.
No one was sitting beside her bed, although there was still an armchair pulled up close, and she would have sworn that’s where that man had been every other time she’d woken up.
As her frantic gaze scanned the room, checking each corner carefully in case the man was simply hiding, and still coming up empty, the panic began to recede.
Alone.
She was alone. That meant she was safe.
For now, at least.
Since there was no immediate threat and no one standing guard, Maya didn't waste any time.
Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, somewhat surprised to find herself clothed.
These people never usually worried about clothes unless they were dressing her up in suggestive lingerie for their sick pleasure.
Now, though, she was wearing black leggings and a simple white T-shirt. Someone had dressed her while she’d been unconscious, and while she was grateful to have something to cover her body, she didn't like the intimacy that implied.
Still, she was dressed, and that would make escaping easier.
When she pushed upright her head spun, her weak body wasn’t used to doing much, even less so since they’d been keeping her drugged.
Her cage at Master’s house had been big enough to stand in and take a couple of steps, but that was it, she was rarely outside that room, and when she was, she still spent most of that time on her knees or her back.
Now there was no one to tell her what to do, and she relished the independence.
There was a dresser on the other side of the room, its top covered in snacks. Chocolate bars, bags of candy, potato chips, popcorn, more food than she’d seen in years, and her mouth watered at the sight.
Trick .
The word echoed inside her head when she was already halfway across the room, desperate to feed her stomach all the things it had been craving since she was fourteen years old.
It had to be a trick. They were setting her up to fail, tempting her with things she wasn't allowed, so that when she gave in, they could punish her for it. Mind games were something she’d endured a lot since she’d been abducted and trafficked, and she wasn't about to fall for this one.
Bypassing the food, she pretended it didn't exist so she wouldn't fall for its temptation, instead, she kept moving, heading for one of the doors.
Her hand shook when she reached out to grab the handle, exhaustion pressed down against her, and she assumed that was the point of keeping her sedated for days.
It weakened her body, which weakened her mind.
Only since her brush with death, her mind seemed to be growing stronger.
That tiny taste of freedom was enough to jar it out of its rut and push her to do something about her situation.
Pushing open the door, she found herself in a large bathroom. A walk-in shower, a huge tub that you could practically swim in, a cabinet covered in all sorts of goodies, shampoos and conditioners, body washes and scrubs, lotions and creams.
There was a mirror too.
For the first time in … years … Maya saw her reflection.
The first thing that struck her was how old she looked. Of course, she knew years had passed since she was taken, even if she’d long since stopped counting them. All she had to do was look at her body, and she could see it was no longer that of a teenage girl.
But knowing and seeing … those were vastly different things.
Gray eyes stared back at her. Her eyes, she knew that, but there was an emptiness to them that had never existed before.
In the intervening years, she’d lived a lifetime of horror and trauma, and it showed.
That haunted look on her face told the story.
Someone must have brushed out the tangles and knots in her hair because it hung limply but smoothly down her back.
She was thin, her face looked like she was little more than skin and bones, and it reminded her of when they’d been learning about World War 2 and the concentration camps.
It would be lying to say she wasn't tempted to put all those products to use and stand under the shower spray, soaking up the hot water until her body was wrinkled, but she couldn’t do that.
Had to escape.
Had to find a way out of this house.
Falling for temptation and using the items set out to taunt her would only end up causing her more pain.
So she backed out of the room, spun around, and headed for the other door. That one had to lead out into a hall.
If they were watching her, they’d know she’d already passed two of their tests, she hadn't eaten food that didn't belong to her, and she hadn't indulged in the frivolity of a shower or bath. While she didn't expect it to earn her rewards, she hoped she could avoid some punishments.
The shaking in her hand had increased in the time she’d been standing, and she could barely get the door handle to turn. Maya mostly expected it to be locked, but by some miracle, it wasn't.
When the door swung open, she tumbled through it, almost losing her balance and winding up flat on her face on the floor.
But it didn't matter.
If she fell, she’d get back up.
For the first time in years, she actually stood a chance.
Freedom felt within her grasp.
So she started running. Well, stumbling would probably be a more accurate term. Her weak body was a little difficult to control, but she wasn't stopping. She was going to keep moving, keep fighting, until she was either free or dead.
Those were the only two options Maya was willing to accept.
Hallway after hallway she ran down. Turning corners at random, praying for a way out, stairs, or a door leading outside. There had to be a way out of this house because she remembered being carried inside it.
Lost.
With no idea where she was going and a seemingly endless supply of corridors that zigged and zagged all over the place, Maya felt that rush of hope begin to fade.
Of course, she wasn't getting out. Maybe there was no way out, maybe it had been boarded up after they put her inside, and they just wanted to watch her try to escape.
Another test maybe, one she had failed.
Should have stayed locked inside her mind, where it was safe. Coming out was dangerous because it opened her back up to the very pain she’d first tried to hide from.
A sob built in her chest, but before it could burst free, she saw him.
Him .
The man who kept touching her gently, who kept telling her that he wasn't going to hurt her, and that she was safe now.
Just because he hadn't hurt her so far didn't mean he wasn't planning on it. After all, he’d taken her there against her will and kept her drugged unconscious. For all she knew, he and his friends had been playing with her body the entire time she’d been out.
He was behind her, blocking her if she tried to backtrack, and it seemed she’d found a dead end, because the only thing ahead of her was a window.
A window.
A way out.
If she was even a single floor off the ground, she might not survive the fall, definitely wouldn't without injury, if nothing else, the glass would cut her to shreds, but it was better than the alternative.
Without a second thought, Maya chose death over capture and ran for the window.