Stay(28)

And I was still locked in the basement. I hadn’t been put to work. In fact, I had been left alone most of this time. I didn’t know where the girls were whisked off too. When they came back, they were only here for a few hours to rest before they went out again. They were constantly working, treated like objects with no traces of human needs or emotions.

I knew it was Nate’s attempt to break my spirit. Being alone in this dark hole was enough to make me go mad. I was constantly scared, and now I was lonely. There were times when I had gone days without seeing the girls but I refused to let it break me. I was alone, but I wasn’t forgotten. I wouldn’t be forgotten. I held onto every ounce of hope I had with no intentions of letting it go.

I always made an effort to get up and move around the basement, keeping my muscles loose and ready to sprint out of here at a moment's notice. Lily and Phoebe helped keep that hope alive. Like me, Phoebe dreamed of running away. Lily hid from the emotions of her painful past by being unusually upbeat and cheerful for someone in our situation. Outside of this hell-hole, I wouldn't have gone out of my way to be friends with either of the girls. But in here, I cared about them. After all, we were all each other had.

More fireworks exploded, masking the sound of the basement door opening. It startled me when Jackson pulled the string, turning on the light.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

His dark wavy hair was wet and pushed back from his face. I blinked in the harsh light and looked at him, realizing for the first time that his eyes were shaped like almonds and lined with thick, dark lashes. I looked away, not wanting to acknowledge I found his dark eyes captivating.

"I brought you food," he told me and slowly approached the cot.

My stomach grumbled with hunger as I looked over the tray. It was always some sort of variation of a cheap school lunch. Today it was turkey sandwiches, fruit cups, milk, yogurt, and cereal bars.

Jackson put the tray on the table and looked at me. He had never tried to so much as touch me, but being alone with him unnerved me. There was nothing stopping him if he ever decided to do, well, anything to me.

"Thanks," I said automatically. "What's going on out there?" I pulled my arms close to me and glanced at the small window.

"Fourth of July party.” He pointed behind him. "The pool is on the other side of the house, so I guess you can't hear the music."

"Oh, right." I looked at the turkey sandwich and then back at Jackson. The pool, right. No wonder his hair was wet. He had been swimming and partying and watching fireworks. I wanted to be angry with him. I wanted to throw the tray across the room and tell him what an awful person he was. Then I caught his gaze again, and he hit me with a pitying stare.

No.

I wasn't going to be like Rochelle, who had a textbook case of Stockholm syndrome. Maybe Jackson really did feel bad for me, but it didn't make him any better than Nate or Zane. A small part of my brain nagged at me, reminding me of the cuts and bruises that frequently decorated Jackson's face. I shook my head, dismissing the issue all together. Whatever happened to Jackson was his business, not mine. Besides, he lived upstairs with Nate and Zane, working with them. He was one of them, and I couldn’t let my guard down, not if I ever wanted to get out.

"Well," he started and pulled on a lose string along the hem of his shirt. "Can I get you anything else?"

Was he serious? I shot Jackson the most incredulous stare I could manage. "Get me the fuck out of here," I said with my mouthful.

He recoiled from my words. "S-sorry," he stuttered. "Bad question." His cheeks turned bright red, and he took a small step backwards.#p#分页标题#e#

"Jackson!" a male voice boomed from upstairs. "What the hell is taking so long? We're out of beer!" Zane yelled.

Jackson's body tensed and he whirled around and scurried up the stairs. I stared at the spot where he had been standing and tried to hang onto the anger. It wouldn't be long before the emotions slipped away and I was left feeling empty again.

I finished my food and paced around the basement, thankful Jackson left the light on. Feeling restless, I dragged a chair over to the small rectangular window and put my hands on the ledge. Dusty spider webs crackled and caught on my fingertips. I jerked back and flicked my hand. The webs were old and void of spiders, but it still grossed me out. I couldn't see anything except the distant glow of lights and the occasional bright explosion of fireworks. When my heels started to painfully scream at me, I hopped down from the chair, shock stinging my ankles. My eyes closed as the pain radiated up into my calves. I bent down and pressed my fingers into the muscle, slowly massaging it out.