Stay(12)

“Fucking cunt!” he swore and grabbed a handful of my hair. He harshly flipped me over and pressed my face into the mattress. “Don’t you ever put your hands on me again! Got it? You do what you’re told.” He gave my head one final shove into the thin mattress before getting up. He looked down at me and laughed.

I scrambled up, my fingers curled into fists. Don’t cry. My chest rapidly rose and fell, and I struggled to not hyperventilate. Zane’s piercing blue eyes burned into me. He let out a breath and smiled before biting his lip and shaking his head. He crossed his arms, flexing his muscles.

Slowly, he turned and walked away, taking the stairs two at a time. I heard the door slam shut and the locks slide into place. A dry sob escaped from my tightly closed lips. My ears began to ring and I felt like I was going to pass out. I sunk back onto the bed, rocking back and forth as everything began to sink in.

I had been kidnapped, and had no idea where I even was.





CHAPTER FIVE





THIS IS A dream, I told myself. A horrible, horrible dream.

“Wake up,” I whispered. “Wake up!” I removed my hands and looked around me. Several hours had passed since Zane locked me down here. I was still in the basement. Trapped. Alone. Not even attempting to put an end to my noisy tears, I shakily rose from the bed.

The basement was considerably smaller than the house. It had either been boarded up to make a small, confined area, or the house had a large addition. The ceiling was low, and the foundation along the small, barred window was crumbling. Six beds were crowded together along one wall. They were nothing more than wire cots with thin mattress pads and faded blankets that smelled like they desperately needed to be washed. Each bed had a single pillow covered with a dingy pillowcase, and nothing distinguished one bed from another.

Across the room was the closet I had been stuffed in. Next to that was a long table. A large mirror hung above it, and a row of single, exposed light bulbs popped out of the wall. I walked over to it and ran my finger over a flat iron. The cord was cracked and frayed from being wound around the styling tool so often. I picked up a pot of eye shadow from a cluttered mess of makeup. Silver powder colored my fingers. I dropped it back onto the table where it rolled to the back, bumping into a crooked line of glass perfume bottles.

I stepped to the side and pulled back a slimy shower curtain of a single stall shower that was next to the vanity. Rings of yellow circled the drain, and brown and green mildew clung to the walls. There was a toilet beyond that, made private only by sheets hanging from the ceiling.

I walked to the other side of the room, stopping in front of a rack of clothing. They smelled like a mixture of perfume, laundry detergent, and sweat. I wrinkled my nose and coughed. My hands trembled as I leafed through the revealing clothing. The clothes were organized by color, ending with an array of slutty costumes. My stomach flip-flopped when my fingers touched the smooth satin of a black French maid uniform. Stilettos and tall platform shoes were haphazardly piled beneath the clothes.

I slowly walked to the end of the rack and stopped in front of an old dresser. The top drawer stuck, and I had to tug hard to open it. It was full of lacy bras and panties. I owned stuff like that, but rarely wore it since it wasn’t comfortable. The other two drawers were full of pajamas, socks, and all sorts of tights. I sifted through the assorted colors of fishnet stockings before closing the drawer.

Across from the dresser were the stairs. I gazed longingly at them, knowing that they could ascend me into freedom. I swallowed back a sob and sat down on the bed again. I turned my attention to the food Jackson had brought me. There were two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a one serving-sized carton of milk, two water bottles, and an apple. It was enough to last a day. I guessed he wasn’t going to bring me anything else until tomorrow. I didn’t want to eat it. Somehow it felt wrong, as if they had an advantage over me. But I knew that not eating would make me weak, and I was hungry. I picked up the shiny red apple and took a small bite, chewing slowly.#p#分页标题#e#

The floor creaked above me. I jumped and a tingle of fear slid down my back. I swallowed the piece of apple. It scraped like nails against my sore throat. My eyes flicked to the ceiling. Dusty cobwebs decorated the old wooden beams. Whoever was above me shuffled their feet as they moved throughout the house. A pipe rattled when a faucet turned on.

I took another bite of the apple. How could they just go on with their lives as if it was perfectly normal to have a prisoner in the basement? I closed my eyes and braced for the pain when I swallowed. I set the apple down and slowly crept up the worn stairs. The wooden planks creaked under my weight.