Chapter 29
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
It feels like I’ve gone blind from one second to the next and I jerk my arms back, trying to free myself from his grasp. Was that a gunshot? Is someone coming? My mind frantically tries to comprehend through the panic.
“It’s okay.” He loosens his grip on me but doesn’t let go. “A transformer blew from the wind, that’s all. Stand still while I grab a flashlight, alright? So you won’t trip again.”
“Yeah.” The word comes out in a trembling whisper.
I can’t see my hand in front of my face.
He releases me and I take a couple of deep breaths, willing my heart to slow down.
It’s just a power outage, and he only grabbed me to keep me from falling.
I’m okay. That’s what I try to tell myself, but I feel pretty far from okay.
Maybe a minute passes before a beam of light bounces down the hall. “Here, have a seat and hold this for me while I put batteries in these lanterns,” he says, handing me a flashlight.
He places a box on the floor at his feet and opens it as I sit on the edge of the couch.
It’s full of emergency supplies. He pulls out a big package of batteries and puts a few in a lantern.
It illuminates the room, only leaving the corners in shadow.
After placing it on the table, he puts batteries in another flashlight and a second lantern.
“Hey,” he says softly when he looks up at me. “There’s nothing to worry about. I have generators to run the important stuff. The stove, water heater, and radiators are gas powered. We’re fine.”
Things have never been further from fine, but I force a smile to my face. “Good thing you were ready.”
“I’m always prepared.”
Sure, to imprison women or tie them to your bed.
I can’t believe this is where I ended up after everything.
What are the chances that I would escape those monsters only to get stalled in a psychopath’s driveway?
Is this just how it is everywhere? A world of predators waiting to strike?
An overwhelming wave of despair crashes over me at the thought.
I have to keep it together.
Alex builds a fire in the fireplace, and I fetch the hat I’ve been making for him. Settling down on the couch to knit, I don’t look like a woman planning to escape.
He sits in the recliner, reading, with Clover on his lap. An hour passes and then another. “Well, it looks like the power won’t be back anytime soon. I need to get the generators going to keep the barn warm and the refrigerator cold.” He stands and glances over at me. “Are you doing alright?”
“I’m fine.” I hold up the nearly finished hat. “I was just thinking I might have time to make a throw blanket the way things are going.”
My answer seems to please him, and I breathe a sigh of relief when he goes outside.
As soon as he returns, he tosses another log on the fire. “How about some hot chocolate? Couldn’t get a more perfect night for it.”
Sure, perfect night to be drugged for whatever insane reason he has planned. “No thanks.” A flicker of disappointment flashes on his face before I add. “I might have some of that Sleepytime Tea later before bed if you don’t mind.”
I know he’s going to attempt to drug me again.
There’s no doubt in my mind that he was doing it before.
I slept so heavily that first night, but I thought it was because I was exhausted.
The second night, I spilled my drink at dinner, then let the tea he brought me get cold.
I’d bet money there was a sedative in both. Tonight, I’ll stay a step ahead.
“Of course,” he replies. “If you’d feel better sleeping downstairs while the power is off, you’re welcome to take my bed and I’ll sleep upstairs. Or you could sleep on the couch again.”
My stomach twists at the thought of what he’d do if I climbed into his bed. How long would it be before I woke with cuffs around my wrists?
I do my best to sound calm. “That’s okay. I’m not afraid of the dark. I just got startled earlier. That transformer sounded like a gunshot.”
“It sure did.”
“Silly of me. How could anyone be out here with a gun?”
He nods, chuckling. “We’re definitely safe from home intruders.”
The next hour drags by. I finish the hat and he puts it on, grinning at me like a happy child. “It’s a perfect fit,” he exclaims.
I wonder if playing along comes easier to people like him. Is deceit just built into the DNA of most men, along with cruelty and arrogance?
It’s finally late enough for me to excuse myself. “I’m glad you like it. I think I’m going to head to bed. Maybe we’ll wake up with power.”
He’s on his feet instantly. “I almost forgot about our tea. I can bring yours up.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate it.”
This was the scenario I was hoping for. I’m dressed in pajamas when he enters, and tucked into bed, reading by the light of the second lantern he insisted I take.
He leaves the tea, and I wait a few minutes, then dump it down the sink.
The empty cup sits on the nightstand as I crawl into bed and turn off the lantern.
The anticipation of the night to come keeps me wide awake and aware in the darkness. Not quite an hour later, footsteps approach. I keep my breathing even and my eyes closed as my door creaks open.
A long, nearly unbearable silence is broken by the thud of the mug being placed back on the table. He checked to make sure I drank the tea. My heart beats so hard, I’m afraid he’ll hear it when he runs his fingertips over my face, brushing my hair off my cheek. It makes my skin crawl.
He doesn’t touch me anywhere else, but he doesn’t leave.
I can sense him standing over me and feel the weight of his stare.
Seconds tick into minutes. Terror grows, wrapping long tendrils around me the longer he hovers over me like a wasp waiting to sting.
Any moment, he’s going to whip the blanket off me, or snatch me up and take me to his bed.
My skin grows clammy, and I pray he can’t tell.
Clover’s nails tick across the floor.
“No, out. You’ll wake her,” he whispers, and I hear them walk away, his footsteps fading down the stairs.
It feels like there’s no strength left in my body as I put my face into the pillow and let out a desperate sob. All I can do now is wait for him to fall asleep.
It’s after two in the morning when I quietly dress in three layers and sling my bag over my shoulder. With the knife clutched in my hand, I sneak down the hall. If I’m caught before I make it out, Governor Nolan won’t be the only man in hell with a blade in his neck. They can start a club.
It’s torture to move slowly, but every step I take is cautious and deliberate.
The last stair squeaks and I freeze, lifting my foot a centimeter at a time.
The house is as dark as a cave. I've made it this far without the flashlight, but I need it to get to the door. I can’t risk bumping into something or knocking over a lamp.
A horrific thought occurs to me as I put my hand over the lens to hopefully dim the beam. He could be standing right beside me and I wouldn’t know it. With a shaky breath, I try to prepare myself and flip the flashlight on.
The living room is empty.
I’m moving quicker now, but I pause to glance down the hallway and see there’s no light visible under his bedroom door or the locked one. I meant what I said. I’ll be telling the authorities to check that room too.
The tiny click of the lock on the front door sounds too loud in the stillness, and I step out, quickly closing it behind me. The cold wraps around me as I rush off the porch and down the driveway.
It puts an old memory in my head of the first day of summer break when I was eleven.
Mom took me and my friend to the community pool that had just been filled.
We were so hot that we didn’t heed her warning of how chilly the water would be.
I’ll never forget the shock of it, the way the cold instantly found every inch of skin and stole my breath.
I remember how Mom and her friend laughed as we gasped and clutched at each other.
There’s nothing funny about the way the cold engulfs me now. It’s dangerous, but not as dangerous as the man in the house that’s falling farther behind me every minute. It’s impossible to move quickly through the deep snow, and I try to find paths where the wind has blown some away.
Luckily, it’s only about six inches deep on the left edge of the road.
Being on the road may not be smart. It’s where he’ll assume I am if he wakes up, but I’m afraid I’ll get lost in the woods if I stray from it.
It’s going to be scary enough when I have to try to find a way across a creek with no bridge.
My heavy breath fogs in front of my face and I tug my new knitted hat down as far as I can without hindering my vision. The urge to constantly look back pulls at me but I force myself to control it. I have to move as fast as possible. He could wake at any time and come after me.
I’m not sure how far I’ve gone when I notice it’s getting brighter. It’s nowhere near the time for the sun to rise, but the clouds are clearing.
A sudden snapping sound makes me freeze, and a large deer walks lazily out of the trees. It stops to look at me while I stare back, temporarily caught up in what I’m seeing.
Moonlight illuminates the strip of covered road between the trees and reflects off the undisturbed snow, making it sparkle like a million diamonds.
The way the dark forest pushes to the edges makes it feel like I’m fleeing through an enchanted tunnel.
A fawn emerges and the doe continues across the road, leading her offspring back into the woods.
As terrified as I am, it brings a smile to my face. To find beauty in a moment like this must mean there’s still hope. I wish I could show Troy.
My legs start to tire and my hand aches from clutching the knife. I pause just long enough to shove the knife in my bag, making sure it’s right on top where I can get to it if I need it. After slinging the bag over my shoulder, I keep going.
It’s what I’ve always done, isn’t it? I just keep going.
At first, I’m not sure what I see ahead of me. The occasional wispy cloud drags shadows along the ground, making it hard to discern whether it’s actually the concrete railings of a bridge or only my wishful thinking.
Screw the bridge. If the railings are there, I can climb across them. That’s one huge problem solved. As I get closer, the truth becomes clear.
The bridge isn’t washed out. Snow is piled in a high drift along one side of it, but the wind has left the opposite side with only a few inches. It’s in better shape than most of the road has been in.
Of course it is. How could I be so stupid?
From day one, he knew what he was doing, keeping me there.
The only thing I had was his word that the bridge was out.
That, and the woman I talked to at his shop.
Maybe she was told the same thing and didn’t know, or maybe she’s being controlled somehow too, I don’t know.
I hope he was also lying when he said it was over ten more miles from here to town. The bridge disappears behind me, and the road begins to slope uphill as the rumble of a motor seals my fate. A violent jolt pulls a cry out of me when I look back.
Headlights grow brighter by the second. He’s coming.