Riot(53)

“Maybe,” she admitted.

“Why didn’t you tell me you can’t watch scary movies?”

“Because I wanted you to stay,” she said softly.

“Baby, I wouldn’t have left because of a fucking television show.”

Grace rolled toward him, placing her leg over his naked hip. “I didn’t want to take the chance. I finished my period.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” She leaned close to him, tenderly kissing her lips.

“I want to talk first.”#p#分页标题#e#

“Talk?” She frowned at him.

“I want you to tell me what happened with Winston. Have you told anyone you care about?”

“Ice, I don’t need to talk. Believe me; I’ve had several expensive therapists.”

“Then tell me,” he urged.

Grace started to roll away, but Ice stopped her. “I want to hold you while you tell me.”

After Grace sank back against him, it took several seconds for her to begin. “After the garage door closed, Winston pointed the gun at us and told us to get out of the cab. He made us go down into the basement where he chained us up. It didn’t have any windows, but he had placed a few scraps of furniture around the room and had laid a rug down on the floor so our feet wouldn’t get cold.

“We expected him to rape us or even torture us, but he didn’t. He told us… He told us he wanted a wife, that he needed time to find out which one of us would make him a better one.

“Simone and I were terrified, but we had hoped that one of us might manage to escape. It took us a couple of days before we realized that wasn’t going to happen. He never released us together. One day, he would unchain me and let me go upstairs to spend time with him, the next he would Simone.

“He would even play mind games with us. He would come downstairs and pretend he had killed the other one. When he had us screaming, he would threaten to shoot us. Sometimes, he would even change his voice and pretend he was the police, and when we would scream for help, he would come downstairs with his gun, pointing it at us as if he were going to kill us both.”

“That’s why your scream sounds so strange.”

Grace nodded. “It’s getting better. One of the therapists had me screaming at every opportunity.

“Those were the longest six weeks of my life. The night before we were rescued, Winston had convinced us both he had picked the other one, and he was going to kill the one he hadn’t picked the next day.” Grace could barely keep talking, tears clogging her voice.

“Simone wanted me to remember a message for her parents, and I memorized the whole thing to make her calm down because I planned on screaming my head off when he came down the steps.”

“You were going to sacrifice yourself for your friend?”

“Yes. I loved Simone like a sister. She was her mother’s only child. He had convinced me he was picking Simone anyway, but I didn’t trust him.”

“What happened?”

“I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I found Simone dead. The basement was old. She had managed to reach a can of paint thinner and had drunk half the bottle. She didn’t trust him, either. She killed herself so he would keep me alive.” Tears she couldn’t hold back fell from her eyes.

Ice pulled her closer.

“Winston didn’t care. He watched her die. He was outside digging her grave next to Avril’s when the police stormed the house.”

“God, baby. Did you tell Simone’s mother her message?”

“Yes, but she wouldn’t listen. She blames me because Simone was with me. I had promised to make sure she was safe when I asked if she could come to the States with us. She said I should have been the one to die, and she was right. It was my fault. I begged my parents to go out that day without them. My father wanted us to wait until my mother was feeling better, but I was so spoiled I wouldn’t listen.”

“Grace, you were young and on vacation; of course you didn’t want to stay in a hotel room with your parents. I’m sure Avril and Simone were both anxious to go, too.”
#p#分页标题#e#
“They were, but I had promised their parents. I should have taken that responsibility more seriously,” she argued.

“You did. Just because Simone died before you could get yourself killed doesn’t take away from the fact that you were going to sacrifice your own life. Simone’s mother had no right to place that guilt trip on you. There was only one person responsible for those girls’ deaths, and that was Leon Winston. Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you talk with a French accent? I thought that, with your mother being French, you would have one, even if your father was an American.”