“Don’t move. I’m calling 911!” the guy told me. His voice was familiar. My eyes fluttered closed. I felt his presence as he moved over to me. “Just don’t—” he suddenly cut off. “Hey!” he said in surprised. “Shit,” he swore again. I heard a rustled of fabric as he knelt down. “Sh-iii-t,” he said once more, this time drawing out the word.
“Police,” I tried again, mustering up the strength to open my eyes. The fuzzy outline of a young man leaned over me. One hand went under my shoulders and the other snaked under my back. With a grunt, he hoisted me up and held me against him.
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he soothed, sending chills through me. He turned, and a bout of dizziness passed over me. My ears rang. I knew I was going to lose consciousness. And something wasn’t right. My face was pressed against the man’s neck. I lifted my head up and forced my eyes open just long enough to see the glowing red eyes of a black widow spider.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I WOKE UP in agony. Every inch of my body hurt and my arms and legs felt too heavy to move. The indiscernible hum of hushed voices filled the air, stopping when I groaned and sat up. My arms and legs didn’t just feel heavy, they were heavy. And that was because they were weighed down with thick chains. Panic flashed through me, and I jolted up, instantly regretting the fast movements.
I was chained to my cot in the basement.
Lily and Phoebe were sitting on the cot next to mine. Tears streaked through the bronzer on Lily’s young face and Phoebe’s eyes, which were hidden behind bright blue colored contacts, held back a terror that bit at my soul. Rochelle sat at the table in the center of the room, flipping through a deck of cards while looking incredibly bored.#p#分页标题#e#
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she scolded. “Zane was out all night looking for you,” she said in such a way that made it seem like he was searching for me out of fear for my own well-being. I blinked, my fuzzy vision finally focusing, and saw that her jaw was set and her dark eyes narrowed. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking,” I began, rage fueling the fire behind my raspy voice. “That I was going to get the hell out of here and get someone to help the rest of you escape.”
Lily whimpered, and Phoebe put her arm around her. “You so close,” Phoebe whispered.
My mind flashed to the run through the woods and my escape to the road. My stomach twisted as I recalled being knocked over by the car, harshly landing on the pavement, and being scooped up by the only person in the entire world who recognized me for what I was supposed to become. Fear and horror rippled through me, and I wondered what Travis had done to me when I was unconscious. I couldn’t think about that. I couldn’t handle it.
The basement door opened and slammed shut. Feet plodded down the wooden steps. I lifted my head up as far as I could and felt pain ripple down my spine.
“Good, she’s awake.” Nate’s voice was smooth. “Unchain her,” he said. Jackson shuffled his feet as he hesitantly walked over. The entire left side of his face was spotted with dark purple bruises, and there were five fresh, clean cuts fresh on his right forearm. All were the same length and equally spaced from each other, but each got deeper as they went up his arm.
His movements were stiff, leaving me to believe there was more damage done to his body than I could see. His dark eyes flashed to mine for a millisecond, but that was all the time I needed to see his terror and pity. He stuck a key in the locks that held back my arms. He pocketed the padlocks and gently unwrapped the heavy links from my wrists. His eyes met mine again, though this time they pleaded for me to shut up and stay still. Next, he got up and walked around the bed, releasing the metal from around my ankles.
“Sit up,” Nate ordered. He sat on the cot next to mine and smiled as he eyed me up and down. He had a yellow folder next to him, and he drummed his neatly manicured nails on it. Zane stood behind him with his arms crossed. Even he had a fist sized bruise under his right eye.
“I’m impressed,” Nate started. “I’m very impressed with your efforts, but this has to stop.”
I clenched my jaw and dug my nails into the mattress. Inside, I was shaking with fear. But I’d be damned to let Nate know that. I narrowed my eyes to keep from crying.
“You don’t want to become more trouble than you’re worth,” Nate continued. He dramatically sighed and opened the folder, withdrawing several photographs and handing them to me. The ink hadn’t completely dried; it felt sticky under my fingers.