I WAS SO exhausted that I couldn’t do anything but lie there, feeling the noise burrow into my body. My back and legs began to cramp up. But I didn’t want to move. Uncovering my ears even for a second was out of the question. My lower back began to scream, and my bad shoulder was killing me. I had to sit up. I had to—
Silence.
I was afraid to believe it. Slowly, I lifted up my arm and pushed aside the towel on that ear.
My ears rang. My head ached. But there was no more music.
Was it a trick? Would he turn it back on as soon as I thought it was over? Toy with me until I was more of a wreck than I already was?
I tensed up, ready to flop back down to protect my ears.
Click!
Was the music a distraction? Had he found another way to get the door open?
I sat up and crawled to the bathroom door. My legs were sore from being bent for so long.
He couldn’t get in. I wouldn’t let him.
I held my breath, braced myself for his shoving his way through the door. I should have gone out and gotten my weapon. Why the hell didn’t I?
“You can come out; I turned that crap off.”
Peg.
The breath whooshed out of me.
I was actually glad to hear her voice. Yes, she was my enemy, but I was pretty confident she wasn’t capable of …
Well, I’d rather tolerate anything she dished out than whatever that boy had in store for me. I realized that for the first time, I thought of Peg as my protector instead of my captor. I knew it was dangerous thinking. But maybe it would keep me alive.
I turned the knob and opened the door.
Peg stood there in a blue-flowered dress that revealed her figure. Her hair was up in a bun. Swear to God, if she hadn’t been the reason I was stuck in that basement, she could have been a normal person, back from church. Someone who baked pies for the potluck and watched the babies in the nursery.
She said, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Was she apologizing?
Because she didn’t seem all that remorseful. In fact, she seemed kind of smug.
Not really expecting her to answer me, I asked, “Who is he?”
She shook her head, like it was inconsequential. “My cousin. He lives … around here. Helps me out now and then.”
Her cousin?
“He dragged my car in.”
I wasn’t asking.
“And cut it up.” She shrugged. “He’s good for things like that.”
I didn’t want to know what he was bad for. Mustering my confidence, I announced, “I don’t want him anywhere near me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t care what you want.”
“Really? You’re fine with him torturing me?” Heat rushed up my face, and I raised my voice. “Because there will be a reckoning for this. There will.”
Peg shrugged. “He’s harmless.” She held out a white bag that I hadn’t noticed in her hand. “Here.”
I didn’t move.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll take it back if you don’t want it.”
I snatched the bag from her hand. It was heavier than it looked, and I nearly dropped it.
Her eyebrows raised, and a smirk crossed her face. “What, no thank-you?”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
She turned and left.
Click.
My legs were still stiff as I limped over to the bed and sat down. Placing the bag on the bed, I stared at it a moment as I rubbed my hand along my leg.
The bag looked like it was from a bakery.
Could I trust her?
Could there be food in the bag?
Absolutely, there could be food in that bag.
But there could just as easily be a dead, bloody squirrel or something equally nasty inside.
I sighed. I’d seen that in movies, too.
My mouth watered and my stomach growled.
Because it would be just like them to do something even meaner than they’d already done.
I set a hand on the folded top of the bag.
“You don’t know what’s in there.”
I licked my lips.
Unable to stop myself, I flipped up the fold on the bag. I opened it, and then shut my eyes. “Okay. On three. One. Two.”
Please oh please oh please …
“Three.” My eyes slowly opened to peek at the contents.
Two glazed doughnuts and a small blue carton of milk, 2 percent.
“Oh my God.” I shoved one doughnut in my mouth and bit down, barely chewing the sweet softness before I swallowed, basically inhaling it. Another bite, then another, until it disappeared. “Mmmmmmm.” Sugar lingered on my lips, and I licked them, and then sucked the sweetness off my fingers. I wedged the milk carton tightly between my legs and opened it with one trembling hand. I lifted it to my mouth and took several swigs before I could stop myself.
I set it down.
“Slow down.” I didn’t know when I’d get fed again. If I’d get fed again. Slowly, I closed the top of the bag, folding it along the crease. I set the bag at the end of the bed.
There. I would save the other doughnut.
My gaze went to the milk carton. Warm milk sucked. I tilted my head back and put the carton to my mouth, shaking it until every drop had landed in my mouth. I swallowed and then burped a moment later. My stomach wasn’t even close to being full, my hunger nowhere near being squelched.
I stared at the white bag for several minutes. Then I lay down and curled up, pulling the covers up to my shoulders. A nap. A nap would make me feel better. And having something in my stomach was a comfort, even if it was only a little something.
I shut my eyes.
What if they came in while I was sleeping? What if they took the bag away?
My eyes snapped open. I grabbed the bag and tucked it into my chest. The bag crinkled whenever I moved. I liked hearing it, knowing it was there. Knowing I had something that was mine.
Ironic. Because in the outside world, yeah, I owned plenty of things. Most people would have called me materialistic, and rightly so. I had a veritable crap load of things.
Peg had no clue what I could do. When I got out of there, I would do that Today show interview. I would fry her and her stupid cousin and Flute Girl. The entire country would be behind me, feel sorry for me, and want to hear my story. And I would tell it.
Oh, would I tell it.
People magazine would want to do an exclusive. A cover story! Or I could do a book about it. A memoir. Billy could get me big bucks for it, I bet.
I just had to get through this and make it out.
I shut my eyes and listened to the creaking floorboards overhead, the muffled voices of Flute Girl and Peg. The tension in my shoulders began to relax.
Now I found their voices reassuring? Only the day before, the same sound had me on edge. But the difference was that I’d recently discovered there were potentially worse things than Peg and Flute Girl. And as long as those two were up there, that boy couldn’t get to me.
But I knew the longer I stayed in the basement, the more chances he would have to break in when they weren’t home.
How long were they going to keep me there?
I slid my hand out to the edge of the mattress and over, slipping my fingertips into the gap above the box spring.
They brushed the edge of the blade. I left them there for a second, against the sharp metal, pressing. There was no doubt in my mind that if I pressed hard enough, I would draw blood.
Satisfied, I withdrew my hand.
Whatever happened next, at least I was armed.
And I wouldn’t just lie there. Not anymore.