Stay(109)

I tipped my head into his hand, comforted by his touch. I closed my eyes and felt myself relax a bit. Then I turned my attention back to his bleeding stomach.

“What can I do?” Lily asked.

I swallowed hard and looked up at her. “Is there any rubbing alcohol left?” I asked her.

“Maybe. I’ll check.”

“Okay. Bring it.”

“Sorry, Jackson, that’s gonna hurt.” Lily hurried away.

He made a face but shook his head. “It’ll be fine.”

“Liar,” I teased and gave a half smile, easing some of the tension. My heart was beating a million miles an hour, and my stomach twisted in knots.

“It’s going to be okay,” he repeated so that only I heard him. “I promise you, Addie.”

“I hope so,” I whispered back.

Jackson put his hands over mine, pressing down on the cut. I slid my hand away and moved up toward his head. My knees screamed at me to stop kneeling on the cement. I ignored them and blotted at the dried blood on his face.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Got into it with Nate.” Jackson turned his head so I could clean the crusty blood from inside his ear. “I didn’t realize he had a taser on him. He hits me in the back, and the next thing I know, I’m on the floor being tied up.” He weakly smiled. “I got him though, before he tased me. Punched him right in the jaw. He’ll have a nice bruise in the morning.”

“Good,” I whispered and folded the rag to use the clean side. “But why are you down here?” I brushed his hair back.

“Nate likes Lou and wants him to stay. He’ll take over what I did when it comes to the girls. And Zane won’t share a room.”

“Oh, so they kicked you out of your room and back down here?” I looked into Jackson’s eyes, wishing so badly that I could kiss him, comfort him, and ease his pain. I ran the rag over his forehead, wiping away tiny splatters of blood.

“Yes,” he said gravely. “All my stuff is over there.” He pointed to the table. I turned, seeing a torn box of books and a pile of clothes.

“At least we’re down here together,” I said with a weak smile. Jackson’s sad eyes said otherwise. Then it hit me. Together.

Shit. Together. We were both trapped in this hell-forsaken basement. Jackson would not be picking up the girls anymore. Our plan of escape would not be executed. We would not be free.





CHAPTER FORTY-TWO





THUNDER SHOOK THE house, causing me to stir from my sleep. I sat up and pushed my damp hair out of my eyes. Jackson’s arm was draped around me, and his leg was hooked over my body. Careful not to wake him, I slid out of his embrace, awkwardly lowering myself onto the cold cement floor.

I stood and flicked my eyes around the basement. Thankfully, we were still alone. I was supposed to stay awake and keep watch, but that obviously hadn’t worked. As soon as the girls left for work, Jackson and I stayed close together, cuddling. One of us always kept watch while the other rested so we could break apart before we got caught. Without Jackson’s warmth, the already cold basement felt even colder. I shivered and turned around, pulling the blue fleece blanket up to Jackson’s chin.

I picked up a mangled bobby pin that I had twisted around the milk crate and crossed the basement. I pinched the Bobby pin in between my thumb and index finger and scraped another line in the drywall that encased the stairs. I stepped back and looked at the countdown. There were four rows, each with seven lines. Jackson had been down here for a month, which meant I only had two left until I would be shipped off to Europe.#p#分页标题#e#

It had taken a week for Jackson to recover from having his abdomen slashed. While he had not come close to bleeding to death, losing that much blood caused him to become dehydrated and weak. I was even more thankful that I had snagged the extra antibiotics for him and hoped that, along with curing the disease I might have given him, it would keep his wound from becoming infected.

Those seven days had passed slowly. Every day was full of fear that Jackson would spike a fever, and I would wake up and realize his cut was grossly infected. I did my best to keep it clean. I washed it with soap and water every morning, even though the flower-scented bar of soap that we had was probably not antibacterial. Every night I used what little rubbing alcohol we had left dabbing at the skin around the cut. Though it wasn’t ideal, it seemed to have worked.

Once Jackson was out of the woods, the days started to go by quickly since I was dreading the end of the three months. When Rochelle and Lily were here, Jackson and I kept a friendly distance. We talked, played cards, and sat on separate cots reading but didn’t dare let it go further than that. A few times Lily caught us standing a little too close or looking into each other’s eyes a little too long. She had raised her eyebrows and smirked, but didn’t say anything. I was so incredibly grateful.