“Good, because you look like shit.” Ryan stared at me from the bottom step, again holding two fast-food bags.
“You should see the other guy.”
“I have. Miguel’s furious. He’s been stomping around for two hours, cussing in Portuguese and making everyone else miserable.”
At least there’s an upside. I smiled at the thought of Miguel’s mutilated face.“You should have listened to me, Faythe,” Ryan said, coming to a stop in front of my cage. He dropped the food on the ground and reached through the bars to turn my face toward the light, inspecting my injuries with his brow furrowed in concern. “He’s talking about replacing you.”
My pulse jumped. “Does that mean I get to go home?” Please, please, please let that mean I get to go home. But I knew better.
“Hardly.” He tilted my face to the right. “He and Sean are going after another girl first thing in the morning. If you aren’t a little easier to deal with when they get back…well, he won’t really need you then.”
I stepped back, jerking my chin from his grasp. If he was really concerned about me, he’d do something to help instead of lecturing me on acquiescence. “Just say it, Ryan,” I snapped, angry over much more than my brother’s inability to say exactly what he meant. “Just say he’ll kill me.”
He bent over to pick up the bags, too much of a coward to meet my eyes. “Yeah. He might. I don’t think he’d do it on purpose, but you have this way of bringing out the worst in people…” Ryan shrugged, leaving the rest to my too-fertile imagination.
My throat felt thick as I swallowed, ignoring his insult in favor of his actual point. Death marks the end of pain and humiliation, but captivity only marks the beginning of it.
Ryan shoved a paper bag through the bars of my cage, but I stood in front of him with my arms crossed beneath my breasts, refusing to accept it. “Take the food, Faythe.” He shook my dinner as if it were a box of Nine Lives, but I just stared at him. “Fine.” He opened his fist and let the bag drop to the ground.
I didn’t even glance at it, choosing to glare at him instead. Ryan rolled his eyes at me and marched toward Abby’s cell. He slid her bag into the cage, seeming first surprised then pleased when she took it with no resistance. “Now, see? Abby’s being cooperative, so why can’t you?”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“So, go.” He waved his hand at the empty coffee can.
“You’re not listening.” I didn’t bother to screen irritation from my voice. “I want to go to the bathroom.”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t help you even if I wanted to. I don’t have a key.”
Oh, shit. I’d forgotten. “That’s right. Miguel doesn’t trust you.”
“Look, pee if you need to, and I’ll empty the can for you. That’s the best I can do, and pissing me off isn’t going to change anything. Unless I decided to let your can sit for a while.”
Okay, he had me there. The situation wasn’t going to improve, so I might as well get it over with. Glowering, I bent to snatch the canister from the floor. “Turn around.”
“Happy to.” He turned with his back to the bars, and I glanced at Abby. She sat facing the back wall of her cage, chewing something crunchy. Ryan huffed impatiently. “You’ve done this before, so hurry up.”
“Yeah, well, the indignity of peeing in a can wasn’t something I thought I’d ever have to repeat.”
“Just get it over with,” he snapped.
I did, and briefly considered making them both plug their ears. But that would have only emphasized my embarrassment. I used another napkin from the burger bag to wipe, and dropped it into the can too. A girl has her standards, even behind bars.
Carrying the container to Ryan was an exercise in degradation. “I’m going to write to my senator,” I said, trying to cover my humiliation with sarcasm. “These prison conditions are appalling.” I slid the coffee can through the bars to Ryan, and he took it with both hands.
“Your senator. That’s good. While you’re at it, tell him my salary is below the minimum wage, and my hours are inhumane.” He carried the can through a doorway beneath the stairs, which presumably hid a small bathroom. I heard the toilet flush and smelled vanilla-scented soap as Ryan washed his hands. When he returned, he sat on the floor across from the empty cage, facing both me and Abby.
“I don’t suppose you have any hand sanitizer?” I said, holding my palms up for inspection.
“Nope. Sorry.” He shrugged.
“There’s a wet wipe in your bag,” Abby said, now facing me with a half-eaten chicken breast in one hand.
“Thanks.” I rummaged through the bag until I found it, careful not to touch the food. Ripping open the little foil package, I cleaned my hands as well as I could, even wiping off the last flecks of Miguel’s blood. Then I dove into my meal. Two fried-chicken breasts, potatoes and gravy, a half ear of corn, and a biscuit. No butter, no salt. “It’s not as good as Mom’s but hardly reason to complain,” I said around a mouthful of chicken. They’d even given us silverware. Well, plasticware.
“Glad you’re pleased.” Ryan dug a bottle of water from each of two long pockets on the sides of his baggy khakis. He handed one to me and tossed the other into Abby’s cage and onto her mattress.
I opened my bottle and swallowed half of the contents in one long drink.
Above my head and to my right, the doorknob squealed as it turned. I screwed the cap on my bottle, my eyes glued to the stairs. My heart fluttered as I wondered which of our abductors I’d be facing this time. I glanced at Ryan, hoping for some clue as to what was about to happen, but he just shrugged and stood up, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Red canvas sneakers appeared on the top step. It was Sean. I started to relax, remembering the genuine sound of regret in his voice on the ranch, and the fact that he hadn’t touched Abby. But then I remembered that his scent had been all over Sara, and I tensed again, my hands curling into fists at my sides.
“Hey, Sean,” Ryan said, and I saw tension fade from his face. He wasn’t afraid of Sean, which meant I probably shouldn’t be either.
Sean stopped, leaning down from the fifth step for a better view of the basement. “Ryan.” He exhaled deeply. “You scared the shit out of me. I thought you were Eric for a minute.”
“Nah, it’s just me. Whatcha need?”
“Nothing. I just came to say hi to Faythe.” He jogged the rest of the way down the steps and turned his eyes to me. “Hi, Faythe.”
“Hi.” I set my food aside and stood, looking from him to Ryan in amazement. The relaxed quality of their greetings gave me chills.“Come on down,” Ryan said.
Sean shrugged. His gaze darted to the cage on my right as he passed it. His jaw tensed and moisture gleamed in his eyes.
Oh, shit. I thought. That was Sara’s cage. How could I not have realized that?
“How are you, Faythe?” he asked, tearing his eyes from the empty cage to meet mine.
I propped my hands on my hips. “How do I look?”
“Like hell.”
“Yep.” I nodded. “That about sums it up.”
“I’m really sorry about all this,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets to duplicate Ryan’s pose. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
That made two of us. “What did you mean to happen?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. I thought I understood Sean’s motive for snatching Sara. But killing her…?
“Nothing. I just wanted to talk to Sara. I didn’t know they had any of this planned.” His voice sounded strange. Kind of hollow.
“What did you know?” I asked as Ryan shook his head frantically at me from behind Sean. I ignored him. “Why did you let them take her?”
“I…” He paused, meeting my eyes for just a second before bowing his head and glancing away again. “Damn, this is going to sound bad, Faythe, but I bought her.”
I blinked, staring at him without even a spark of comprehension. He bought her. Eric had said he bought Abby, but what the hell did that mean? How do you buy a person?
“You bought Sara?” I asked, still trying to understand. “Who did you buy her from? How much did she cost?”
“Nothing.” His face was disturbingly composed, yet he sounded offended, as if I should have been ashamed for asking the question. That was wrong in so many ways. “I didn’t pay money. Hell, I didn’t have any money. I promised my labor, just like Eric did for Abby.” He glanced at her briefly over his shoulder. “I have to work for him for two years, or until he agrees that my debt is paid, whichever comes first.”
For a moment, no one spoke, as Abby and I tried to absorb what he’d said. Then she screeched, outrage reddening her face. “You paid for Sara by helping kidnap us?”
Sean dropped his eyes, finally showing a little shame, but it was much too late to garner any sympathy. “I told you it would sound bad.”
Abby nodded hysterically, curls flying. “It sounds fucking terrible.”
“She’s right, Sean.” I struggled to keep my voice calm and even. Behind him, Ryan rubbed his forehead, mouthing some kind of warning at me.