FINALLY, I DOZED off. When I woke up, the light outside wasn’t as bright. Evening. Sevenish, I guessed. The bag crinkled as I moved. “Oh crap.” In my sleep, I’d rested my arm on it.
I opened the bag and pulled out the doughnut. One half was flattened. I shrugged and took a bite. Ugly or not, the taste was still as light and sugary as before. Despite trying to pace myself, the doughnut was gone four bites later. I licked my lips and sucked my fingers, determined not to waste the remaining morsels of sweetness.
My throat was dry, so I went into the bathroom and took a long drink from the sink. I turned off the water and stood up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
In the mirror, my face looked haggard and beat up. Dark shadows lay under my eyes, and the long scratch on my cheek was still red. But all the little cuts were scabbing over, as if they had come from a session of half-assed shaving.
“Lovely. You look so lovely.” I rolled my eyes at myself.
Click!
I quickly stepped over to the bathroom door, shutting it with a hushed click. I set my ear against it.
The bedsprings squeaked slightly.
Someone was sitting on the bed. Within reach of my weapon.
Crap.
“I brought dinner.”
Peg.
Taking my time, I emerged from the bathroom.
She perched on the very edge of the bed. Right above my hidden blade.
My heartbeat sped up, and my hands began to sweat.
A greasy, tomatoey smell wafted toward me. In her hands sat a pepperoni pizza on a cardboard circle. Despite my nerves at her being so near my hidden weapon, my mouth involuntarily watered.
Peg set the pizza on the side table near the bed.
Please get up. Please.
But she stayed put, her hands on the edge of the bed. The weight of her body pushed the mattress downward, meaning her fingers were mere inches above the blade from the waxed paper.
I had to get her away from there. But how?
And then it came to me.
I took a quick step toward the door, an unimpressive, half-hearted juke.
My pathetic move had the intended result. Peg shot off the bed, immediately blocking me from the door. She took a wide stance, hands on her hips. “Really?”
“Sorry.” I shook my head. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
She pointed to the bed. “Go sit down.”
I lowered my head in exaggerated meekness, breathing a sigh of relief as my butt sank into the edge of the bed where she had been. For the moment, my hidden arsenal was safe.
Peg nodded at the pizza. “We eat pizza on Sundays.”
I nodded. “My family does, too.”
We didn’t, of course. But I was attempting to cooperate. Because I was ready to try out my weapon and get the hell out of there. My right hand was hidden from her, and I stretched out my arm, sliding my fingers into the narrow gap.
My fresh, docile tone must have allayed her tension because her shoulders relaxed. She stepped a few feet toward me.
My heart pounded so hard that I felt it in my ears. Sweat broke out on my upper lip, and I quickly faked a cough so I could wipe it off as I covered my mouth. Then my hand snapped back to my side, fingers slipping in and grabbing the blade as Peg neared.
Patience. Hold on.
I needed to get her talking, distract her. “So how much longer do I have to stay down here?” I maneuvered the blade into my palm, then between my thumb and forefinger. I tightened my grip. I wanted to add, Because I’m about ready to take my leave, bitch.
She frowned. “I don’t know.” She stopped walking toward me.
No! I swallowed the despair climbing up my throat.
I needed her near me, away from the door, so that when I attacked I’d be able to get to the door before she did.
Peg tilted her head. “You haven’t shown any regret for what you did.”
My mouth fell open, and I almost dropped the blade. I got a firmer hold on it and gathered my wits. Was she kidding me? Were we back to that? “I apologize for whatever it is I did.”
She set a hand on her forehead and rubbed a little as she shut her eyes. “No, see, that is what”—her eyes shot open and she jabbed her hand in the air at me—“PISSES ME OFF!”
I jumped at her sudden rage. One of my feet slid forward on the slick carpet, and I nearly slid off the bed.
She took a few steps toward me, arms out to the sides, her face reddening. “Do you think this is easy for me? Having a stranger in my house that I have to feed?” She closed in on the bed, only a foot or so away from me. I could have reached out and touched her.
I sucked in a breath. Here we go.
“This isn’t easy for me! Do you think I want you here?” she yelled.
I shook my head, trying to appear complacent, attempting to calm her down.
Because I hadn’t been prepared for her to be angry. An angry person is unpredictable. I couldn’t blow my last chance at getting out.
“I have a daughter to worry about, in case you haven’t noticed!” Peg’s voice grew louder. She took another step toward me, cutting the distance to about a foot. She was so close that I could see the outline of her bra underneath her dress and a bit of mascara on the outside of her eye. I smelled her perfume, an overpowering, almost invasive scent.
Peg sighed. “You are not the only problem I have.”
I bit my lower lip and tried to keep my hands from trembling.
Should I do it?
Worst-case scenario if I screwed up again? She hurts me, maybe a lot, takes away my weapon, and … what else? What more could she do?
Restrain me somehow. Tie me up.
I fought back a shudder as I remembered the gag in my mouth.
Being trapped in the basement was bad enough, but at least I was free to move around. If I had to be down there and be tied up, maybe even gagged again? I would lose it.
I couldn’t take that chance.
Slowly I slid my hand beside my thigh and over the edge to stow my weapon.
“This is your entire fault!”
That stunned me. “What?” As I turned to look up at her, I lost hold of the strip. My salvation fell to the floor, landing silently beside my foot. My heart stopped.
Don’t look at it, don’t look at it.
I quickly stood up and stepped on the metal and cardboard, covering it with my foot. I held out my palm in submission. “I’m sorry for whatever I did, okay?” All I needed to do was stay there until she left. That’s all. Keep it covered, and she would never know.
Peg stepped back and set a hand on the post at the end of the bed. “Not good enough.” She shook her head. “Not nearly good enough.”
She grabbed my wrist and yanked. I stumbled forward, stepping off the one thing that I was trying to keep hidden.
I didn’t dare look back. The blade was behind me, completely out in the open. I had to get her away from that side of the bed. So I did the first thing that came to mind. Stupid, maybe, but I was desperate, and it had to be done.
With my good arm, I shoved her as hard as I could.
Peg stumbled back a step. Her hair fell over her eyes, which narrowed at me.
What was I thinking? A little metal strip against this walking, talking, raging grudge bitch?
Peg raised her arm, and I covered my face with my good one. “Don’t!” I yelled.
She grabbed my arm, pinching hard with her fingers. I yelped. She pushed down, forcing me to my knees. I dropped, and then fell over on my right side. If she looked past me, she’d see the metal strip lying on the floor. She’d see it and grab it and probably use it on me.
Quickly, I righted myself and scooted a few feet away, toward the other side of the bed. Please follow me, please follow me.
She did. With two long strides, she was at my side, away from where she could see my weapon.
I sat up. All I needed was to placate her enough so that she’d leave. Then everything would be okay. I’d try again another time.
Peg kicked me in the stomach.
I doubled over and clutched my midsection, gasping. My mouth opened and closed, opened and closed. But I was unable to take a breath. I fell on my side and waited for my paralyzed solar plexus to relax, let me have oxygen.
Peg leaned down over me. Her face was red, eyes wide and wild. She held up one fist.
My eyes teared up, blurring her face. But not her words.
“Don’t mess with me, sweetheart. You got it?”
I lay there, unable to breathe or move or think.
She grabbed a handful of my hair. With it, she pulled me up off the floor about half a foot. I cried out, except that I had no breath at the moment, so there was only a squeak.
“Got it?” she asked.
I nodded as best I could with her clenching my hair. Apparently the movement was a close enough approximation to a nod because she let me go.
I fell back to the floor, still holding my stomach as the first tiny gasp of air began to come through.
“Enjoy your pizza.” She left and slammed the door.
Click!
If I had a breath, I would have sighed with relief. But all I could do for the moment was stare up at the ceiling and let the tears leak out of my eyes.