Chapter 28
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
I’m doing my best not to show how rattled I am, how angry I am.
It’s getting dark out by the time I can excuse myself to go to my room without it seeming suspicious.
I know where I left the atlas, but I check my bag anyway.
As stressed out as I was, I need to be completely sure I didn’t grab it without remembering.
Of course, it’s not there. It’s also not the only thing that’s missing.
My hands scrabble through the bag as I mutter under my breath. No. No no, please. There were only three things I kept in this bag other than my clothes. The roll of money I escaped with, the opal heart necklace, and the mixtape that Troy gave me over two years ago. They’re all gone.
He took everything. He took all that I had left of Troy.
Play our song, sweetheart.
What am I going to do? How far am I going to get without a dollar to my name or a car or even a map?
Anger mixes with frustration and fear, sending tears rolling down my face.
The decision has been made for me. I’ll have to make it to the local authorities, tell them everything, and hope that they aren’t corrupt like the others.
Alex’s footsteps echo on the stairs, and I dart into the bathroom. My bedroom door squeaks open and he calls, “Sybil? Do you want to feed the goats?”
“No thanks,” I answer through the door, praying my voice sounds even. “I’m finally getting warm after going out earlier.”
Once he’s gone, I go to the window and watch him walk to the barn. He’s carrying the snow shovel which means he’ll be digging out his truck. This is my only chance.
First, I run downstairs to grab a large knife from the back of the kitchen drawer.
His good knives are kept in a block on the counter so he shouldn’t notice this one is missing.
I tuck it down between the top of my mattress and the wall.
Accessible but out of sight. A quick look through the window reveals that he’s still in the barn with the door standing ajar.
He took my money, and my stuff, but he hasn’t left the house other than to go to the barn. Unless they’re hidden in that one locked room, maybe I can find them. I stole that necklace back once, and I can do it again. His bedroom is the most obvious place to look.
My heart beats in my ears and my skin feels clammy as I approach his door. I’ve never been in his room. I haven’t even gone this far down the hall to see if he keeps it locked.
The handle turns easily. I pause, listening hard to the silence of the house. It’ll take him at least fifteen minutes to dig out his truck and I won’t stay in here for more than five.
There’s nothing out of the ordinary at first glance. He has a king-size bed with a matching dresser and nightstands. The room is neat with no clothes on the floor or clutter.
Every hair on my body feels like it’s standing up as I pull open the top drawer of his dresser. It’d be pretty stupid to steal my money then just chuck it in a sock drawer, but men can be stupidly confident.
I look through the socks and underwear, checking every inch of the space with no luck before quickly moving onto the next drawer.
My disappointment grows with each one. They contain nothing but his clothes.
I lift the mattress of his bed on each side, hoping he tucked the money underneath it, then check inside his pillowcases and in the two pairs of shoes sitting by the wall.
I pause to listen again and peek out into the hallway to be sure he’s still outside.
The only sound comes from Clover as she trots down to join me.
His bathroom door is open, so I assume the closed door is a closet.
The chance he’ll come back gets higher by the second, but I’m not leaving without looking inside.
The door leads to a large walk-in closet, but my heart drops to my feet when I enter it.
Two walls are lined with hanging blouses, dresses, and skirts.
The shelves against the third wall are stacked with women’s tee shirts, sweatshirts, and pants.
A rack of shoes with sneakers, boots, flats, and heels sits underneath it.
He said he was single. He said his sister lived here temporarily and left the clothes in the guest room behind. Why is there a whole wardrobe of women’s clothing in the closet? My mouth dries out and my breathing speeds up as I look closer at the items.
Everything is brand name and well cared for. The style is what you’d expect a woman around his age to wear. If he isn’t married or living with a girlfriend, then who do these belong to? Is he with someone and she just can’t get home because of the snow?
That doesn’t make sense. If he was trying to hide that from me so he could cheat, he would’ve tried to get me in bed by now, and he hasn’t. Did he have a wife or girlfriend and do something to her?
Is she locked in that room?
Something bumps into my foot. I jump a mile and spin around, terrified that I’ll see him standing behind me.
Clover taps her nose on my leg again, asking for attention.
I have to get out of here. It feels like my insides are vibrating as I shut the closet door, leaving everything undisturbed.
I don’t have time to search through all of it, and if he catches me, I’m in deep trouble.
Clover runs over to stick her head under the bed, pulls out a rubber dog toy, and brings it to me, but I’m too busy looking at what her foot dragged out. A thick wide strap with a cuff on the end lies behind her. A wave of dizziness overtakes me at the sight, and my legs feel weak.
Swallowing hard, I approach it like it’s a venomous snake that might strike.
I drop down to my knees to look under the bed.
The restraint is attached to the bed frame, and it isn’t the only one.
There are straps connected to all four corners.
He’s had someone tied to his bed. Or are these intended for me?
I’m in so much more danger than I realized. It takes all my self-control not to panic when my instincts are screaming at me. Run, run. Fuck the money and anything else. Just get out of this house.
Alex could be back any second. I kick the restraint back under the bed, hustle Clover out of the room, and shut the door behind me, praying I didn’t leave any sign that I was there. I run to the living room and look out to see him still clearing snow off his truck in the moonlight.
I’m leaving tonight, but I can’t bear the thought that someone could be locked away like I was for so long. I rush back to the locked room and knock hard on the door. “If someone is in there, please, say something, or make a noise!” I call out, then press my ear to the door to listen.
Nothing, only silence.
“Listen, he’s outside, but I don’t have long!
It’s safe! If he’s holding you, please, just make a noise.
” Again, I press my ear to the wood to hear only my own pulse.
I’m not convinced anyone is in there, but if they are, I want whoever it is to know that things aren’t hopeless.
That was the only thing that helped me survive the cult, those small glimpses of hope. And Troy.
“I’m going to send help. Do you hear me? Just hang on.”
Maybe no one’s behind the door, but I heard Alex talking and it wasn’t to the dog. There’s no way to know without the key. All I’m sure of is that I’ve fled from one nightmare into another.
I’m afraid, but anger also surges through me.
I’m so tired of all of this. So sick of always being at the mercy of horrible people when I did nothing to deserve it.
Whatever his plan is, I will not let him win.
I will get away from here and send help for Troy.
I’ll make sure the world knows what was done to us and what’s still being done to the women and children there.
I’m running from this place tonight. I hope the years I spent playing along with my captors have prepared me for the level of acting necessary this evening. It’s hard to act normal or happy when you’re full of terrified anticipation.
I don’t have a complex plan. I’m going to wait until very late when I’m sure he’s asleep then run like hell.
Before he returns to the house, I put the leftover chili on the stove to reheat and start making a pan of cornbread.
If he’s willing to eat out of that pot, it should be safe for me as well.
I have zero appetite, but who knows when I’ll get to eat again.
I’ll need energy to make it through the bitter cold and deep snow.
The wind is really picking up again, howling around the house.
He steps in and grins at me. “It smells good in here.”
“I figured I’d start dinner. Do you like cornbread with your chili?”
“Sure do.”
He goes to his room to change out of his wet clothes, and I have to unclench my jaw.
Apparently, it’s easier to play along when I’m scared than when I’m angry.
The sight of him infuriates me. I’ve been through enough.
Troy has been through enough. I escaped and made it all the way to Kentucky on my own, only to have this asshole ruin everything.
Somehow, I get through dinner without making him suspicious, as far as I can tell.
He asks if I want to watch a movie afterward, and I agree.
He cleans up the kitchen while I hunt through his box of VHS tapes, but I couldn’t care less what we watch.
All I’m doing is stalling for time until he goes to sleep. It’s going to be a long evening.
When I stand up with the tape in my hand and turn around, he’s right in front of me. Startled, I step back, stumbling over the box. His hands clamp around my arms, and a spike of terror paralyzes me. He knows. It’s too late.
A loud bang rips a cry from my throat a second before the room is plunged into darkness.