CHAPTER 22

 

I haven’t experienced many moments where I felt that life was unfolding in slow motion right in front of my eyes, but this is one of those times. My gaze is fixed on Jed as his body swings around frame by frame, and at some point I squeeze my eyes shut, ready for the big blowout. I’m sure he will beat the crap out of me.

A sharp buzz startles me and I almost fall off the barstool when I jump a few inches in the air before I manage to grab onto the counter at the last second. A soft melody drifts through the kitchen—the intro theme of a TV show that my mom and Roy always watch—and I gather it is the ringtone of Jed’s mobile. When I glance at him through hooded eyes, his back is turned once again to the sink. He holds up the phone to his ear.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

The caller on the other end tells him something that causes a small frown to wrinkle on his forehead. “Is it really that bad?” He listens intently. “Well, let me go downstairs and check on the generator. I’m sure the power will be knocked out sometime tonight. Where are you?”

He walks off and I am on my feet in an instant, dashing over to the sink. The water turns on with a small gurgle. I splatter it around with my hand until the whiskey and powder remains have vanished down the drain. When I’m done, I realize that my whole body is shaking. For good measures, I sprinkle water on my face to clear my humming head.

“What ya doing, honeybun?”

I spin around with another startle to find Jed leaning against the counter. If the night continues with these dodgy situations, I’ll have a heart attack by morning for sure.

“Nothing.” My eyes fall on the tumbler. “I was just rinsing out your glass so you can fix yourself another drink.”

He stretches. “That was Napoleon. The storm is so bad that he barely made it home. I really shouldn’t drink tonight in case the power goes out and I have to start the generator.” He winks at me. “The basement steps are rotten and dangerous, even when you’re sober. I’m sure you don’t want me to break my leg, or you’ll have to take care of me.”

I would rather have him break his neck but keep that thought to myself. “I should go to bed. It’s getting late and Hallie might need someone to talk to when she wakes up.”

He steps closer and pulls me into his arms. “You’re such a good friend to her.” His face nuzzles into my hair. “She’s really lucky to have you.”

I go rigid when guilt washes over me—I blame myself for what happened to her. Though I know that I couldn’t have saved her, the way it all went down was just horrific.

He pulls away and yawns into his hand. “I’m really tired, too. It was a stressful day for all of us.” He glances at Maisie in the chair. “Even the damn dog is out cold. She will probably pee in the house because of the storm. You should have seen her out there shivering earlier. I was scared she would shoot off the porch when she slipped on the ice.”

This is likely the worst night for an escape, but probably our only chance before Napoleon is back for more terror. Jed’s pupils are dilated, so some of that sleeping aid must have gotten into his system. The window of opportunity is small but still worth the risk. Hallie could not go through the ordeal of being raped a second time without losing her mind—the hurt and distress was just too visible on her face.

“Well, good night, Jed.”

He blows a kiss on my cheek. “Good night, honeybun. Don’t let the bedbugs bite you.”

That’s what my dad used to say before my parents got divorced—I was only three. I quickly wipe away a loose tear. Since my mom married Roy, I hardly see him, but we usually get together over the holidays. I wonder about his reaction to the whole “I need a break thing” and my disappearance. Knowing him, he probably bought it—he has never really been attuned with my feelings.

Hallie is awake, staring at the ceiling, when I slide into bed. She lies perfectly still, taking even breaths like she’s hooked to a breathing machine. Her glassy eyes give me the creeps. Hopefully, she will be able to keep it together during the escape.

I give it a good half hour during which we both lie in the darkness without a sound before I get up to check whether the coast is clear. Jed is curled up on the sofa under a thick patchwork quilt that looks ancient, Maisie resting in the folds above his feet. Her head rises as I approach. The echo of her whimper sounds magnified in the still house.

To quiet her, I pat her head, which only causes her to start licking my hand. Her small body wiggles around on Jed’s legs. He stirs in his sleep, mumbling something. I quickly scoop up the puppy—she’s going to ruin everything if she wakes him up.

Not sure what to do with the struggling dog, I take her to the bedroom and sit her down next to Hallie.

“I really need you to focus now and keep an eye on Maisie. I know you’re hurting, but I’m trying to get us both out of here and I need your help.”

Hallie seems to wake up from a deep slumber and a fire begins to burn in her eyes. “What do you want me to do?”

“Get ready. It’s storming and freezing outside, so go through all the drawers and get everything imaginable to keep us warm. I’m going to get the keys and our coats and shoes.”

“Why don’t you just get Jed’s phone and call the cops?”

That idea was crushed when I saw his cell tonight. “I have no clue where we are other than Tacoma Lakes, which is a huge area. He uses a really old phone, something that was popular maybe ten years ago, and I’m sure it doesn’t have a tracking device. Even if they contact the network and do a search, it will be hours, if not days, before they find us. We can’t wait that long. Once we’re away from Jed, we’ll call them.”

Hallie nods and jumps out of bed, fully on board with my plan. The first drawer is pulled out, its contents dumped on the floor, before she starts rummaging through the clothes. I turn toward the door to get Jed’s keys and phone.

His head hangs off the couch and he is snoring with his mouth wide open. I tiptoe closer. Squatting down next to him, my hands wander under the blanket. He sneezes and grumbles, rolling on his right side, facing the backrest. One of his jeans’ pockets is now totally out of reach and I just pray that it’s not the one with the keys.

I take a peek under the blanket to target the right area before my hand slides in his side pocket. My fingers hit a metallic object and I rejoice when my thumb runs over the edges of a key. Jed smacks his lips. I freeze, ensuring that his breath is even before continuing. My fingertips slowly work the keys into my palm. Finally, I manage to pull them out. I rise hastily. A floorboard squeaks under my feet when I take a step forward.

Jed wrinkles his nose, scratching it before blinking at me. “Honeybun, what is it?” His voice is thick from sleep—he is still in this half-asleep, half-awake stage.

My heart pounds in the back of my throat as my mouth dries up. “I just came to get Maisie.” I give him my sweetest smile. “Go back to sleep.”

He pulls the quilt closer around him and snuggles in. A minute later, he’s back to snoring. A silent sigh of relief rolls over my lips. That was close. Taking careful steps, I dance across the floor into the bedroom.

Hallie is crumpled on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. I roll my eyes—we don’t have time for this. I’m about snap at her, but then stop myself. What am I thinking? This had been me just a few weeks ago and I, of all people, should understand that this is eating at her very substance. I have to cut her a break. Telling her that this is not the time to mourn is the wrong thing to do.

I lower myself next to her and stroke her back. “What’s the matter?”

In response, she lifts up a picture that has been lying face down on the floor. “I found this.”

I take the photo and a cold chill runs down my spine. It’s a close up of my younger self, terror and incredible pain in my eyes. Jed must have taken it during the first abduction. His words that he and Napoleon were taping me rings in my ears. I wonder how many more photos and videos are hidden somewhere. They probably get off watching me scream; a sickening thought that pushes bile up my throat.

“Why are they doing these things to us, Kelsey?” she asks with tears streaming down her face.

“Because they’re sick bastards.” I squeeze her arm. “I know it’s hard right now, but we need to go. It’s the only way to punish them for what they did.”

“Do you think I’ll ever be able to have a boyfriend?”

I remember what Finn told me. “It’s up to you to fight for your happiness; no one else will do it for you. I lived for over three years in total misery and it took your kidnapping to wake me up. Don’t worry, I’ll help you get through this.”

A tear rolls down her cheek. “I’m just so glad I’m not alone. I can’t even imagine how hard it must’ve been for you when there was no one around who had your back.”

This is not the time to wallow in self-pity. “Let’s go.”

She takes my offered hand and I pull her on her feet.

“Where’s the phone?”

I grimace. “Jed was lying on it and there was no way to get it without waking him up. We’ll call the police as soon as we’re safe.”

Her head points to the bed. “This is everything I found. Where are our shoes and coats?”

I curse myself. “I forgot. Jed almost caught me and all I could think of was getting back in here. Let’s grab them on our way out.”

The next minutes are spent to transform us into Artic explorers. We layer up on thermo underwear under two sets of jogging pants with several short and long-sleeved t-shirts covered by warm wool sweaters. I just hope I will still manage to get into my boots with the three pairs of socks I’m wearing.

I wrap a scarf around my neck which I can also pull up to cover my mouth and tie another one around my head like a bandana. Hallie opts for one of Jed’s beanies and pulls it far over her ears. Her scarf is even thicker than mine and scratchy, her skin reddened when she can’t stop itching her neck. Sweat pearls on my forehead; it’s now stifling in the room.

“Ready?”

She nods and wraps a small blanket around Maisie. “Let’s do this.”

I peek my head into the living room, but Jed is back asleep, snoring like he’s planning to tear down the house. We scurry over the floor like little mice and halt by the closet. It is locked.

“Damn it,” I silently curse, starting to fumble with the keys. I get lucky, the third one fits. The door swings open with a loud squeak. Goosebumps spring up when my eyes dart to Jed, but he is just drooling in his sleep, oblivious to our latest scheming.

With trembling fingers, I slide into my boots, glad that I went for the unfashionable combat-style model which cost $300. My mom almost had a seizure when she saw the price and forced me to buy a larger size with room to grow. My socked foot slides easily inside. With fast fingers, I begin to tie the shoelaces.

Hallie is not so lucky and cannot get into her shoes which are flat ankle boots. Her feet will be frozen within minutes if she only puts on a pair of flimsy socks like she wore this afternoon. It was a miracle that she was even able to run that fast in the snow, but her boots are totally impractical on the ice.

I point at Jed’s working boots. “Put those on. The van is parked right outside.”

While she fastens the straps, I turn toward the front door, the last barrier between our prison and the outside. This time, I find the right key on the first try. When the door swings open, I brace myself for more squeaking, but the hinges must be oiled well. Only the howling wind greets us. A cold breeze floats in, heading right for Jed, who stirs in response.

My hand finds the light switch for the outside lanterns. I usher Hallie with Maisie in her arms outside, glancing one more time at my tormentor before pulling the door quietly shut behind me. The cold wind hits me full force as soon as I step out of the house’s shelter and chills me right to the bone despite all the protective clothing. Freezing rain stings my face like little daggers, the downpour turning into ice right in front of my feet. I pull the scarf up so only my eyes are showing.

When I take a step forward, I land on my butt. Frozen in shock, I stare at the door, certain that the thump woke up Jed. When all stays quiet, I let out a sigh. “Be careful, Hallie. It’s real slippery.”

She hangs onto the banister, staring at me with wide eyes. “Do you think it’s a good idea? It hasn’t been this bad in years.”

I roll my eyes. “Unless you want to go back inside, there is only one way out of here and that’s down those steps.”

My feet move forward slowly, making sure I have solid footing before shifting my weight to my other leg. Progress is slower than a snail on the worst of days. My knees are wobbly; in my mind, I’m back on the ice rink for the first time when I was little. I remember my mom’s words—always find your center. After that, it becomes easier.

I get to the top of the stairs and slowly make my descent. The freezing wind hits me like a wall. I get down on my butt and slide from step to step until I reach the bottom. As I turn to tell Hallie to do the same, she loses her balance. With a small yelp, her feet fly toward me, her arms instinctively cradling the puppy into the crooks of her elbows for protection. When she hits the frozen snow pile next to me, pain spreads across her face.

“Are you okay?” I shout over the howling wind.

Maisie has freed herself and is shuffling around at the bottom of the stairs, trying to find a hiding place. I grab her and shove her inside my coat where her warm body wiggles around in panic.

Hallie tries to stand up, but her knees buckle. Her face twists in pain. “I can’t put any weight on my right foot.”

I slide my arm around her waist and drag her toward the van. With gritted teeth, she hops along on one foot, pain burning in her eyes. Luckily, the area between the steps and the van has been cleared before and is not as slippery as the rest of the way. Yet by the time we make it inside the vehicle, my legs are so numb that I can hardly feel them. Maisie is deposited on the backseat and goes into hiding.

Hallie leans back in her seat, whimpering. “I think my ankle is broken. It hurts like hell.”

“I’ll take you to the hospital and they can call the cops for us.” I start the car. “Check the glove compartment. Some people keep painkillers in there.”

Hallie pops the compartment open and grins. “Look what I found.” She pulls my cell phone from the dark space.

Finally, something works in our favor. “Does it turn on?” I ask while shifting into first gear. The car rolls forward as soon as I release the emergency break, but I am careful not to accelerate too much because of the ice.

She shakes her head. “No, it’s totally dead.” She pops the back open. “The battery is gone. Jed must have taken it out.”

I curse under my breath. “Check in the glove compartment. Maybe he stuck it in there.”

My eyes focus on the road. It is dark inside the car, only the green digits of the clock on the radio cover the dashboard in a surreal light. It’s just before ten. I am tempted to turn on the radio to drown out Maisie’s whining in the back, which is nerve-racking. Hopefully she didn’t get hurt as well, but I’m reluctant to ask Hallie to check on her. Every one of Hallie’s moves is accompanied by a low hiss—she must be in a lot of pain.

“I found it,” she suddenly announces.

I glance at her while she pops the battery into the phone. “Does it turn on?”

The van is having trouble climbing a hill and I accelerate, my full attention focused on the task. I remember Luke telling me that I need to gain momentum on an icy road when I drive up an incline or the car will stall and roll backward.

“What’s your pin?” Hallie asks.

“Two, six, nine, two,” I reply absentmindedly, my eyes squinting at the road ahead. It looks like there is a curve on top of the hill, but it’s hard to make out in the headlights. To the right and the left of us, the woods lay in total darkness. The wind rattles the van, making it hard to drive straight. My wrists hurt from my tight grip on the steering wheel.

“Okay, I got in,” Hallie says. “It’ll take a few minutes to find a network.”

I grumble something under my breath, my gaze glued on the road. The top of the hill is approaching too fast and I steer frantically to the right to make the curve. The van is not responding, heading straight for a huge snowbank at record speed.

In a panic, I yank at the steering wheel at the same time I slam on the brakes. The car swerves before turning into a spin. I lose all sense of direction as the van spins faster and faster until it is finally stopped by the force of a tree. The screeching sound of bending metal is painful. My eyes try to find a focus, but the forest keeps spiraling out of control. Dizziness twirls in my head. When the airbag blows, my face slams into the cushion, which isn’t soft upon impact. Hallie’s piercing scream is the last thing I hear before my head threatens to break into pieces. With the consuming pain comes the darkness which completely swallows me up.