Once we’re inside the room, I tackle Jason from behind and wrestle him to the floor. Amy is huddled on a mattress, crying, but as soon as Jason is down, she jumps up and starts to kick him. She is barefoot, and it must hurt every time her foot connects. But rage makes her ignore the pain.
“You bastard,” she screams. “Did you do this to me?” She looks over at me, as if seeing me for the first time. Her cheeks are streaked with tears. “Did he?”
I nod.
He tries to roll away from her, but I’ve got his arms behind his back. One of her kicks connects with his balls. He shrieks and curls into a ball. Amy kicks him in the face.
“I need to tie him up,” I say, struggling to hold on to him. He’s a big guy—bigger than me, but not stronger. “Then I’ll call the cops.”
Amy stops kicking him and runs over to a weird pile of furniture next to the wall. She grabs something and tosses it to me. “I don’t need this anymore,” she says. Her voice is hoarse. She collapses on the mattress again while I tie Jason up with what appear to be bras. I don’t ask. This is so messed up. I just want to get her out.
Once I have Jason hog-tied, I pick up his keys from where they’ve fallen on the floor. “Let’s go,” I say to Amy. “I can call the cops from outside.”
“Not before he tells me why,” she says. She gets up and crouches next to Jason. “Why, asshole? Why did you do this?”
“I love you, Amy,” Jason whimpers. “I just wanted you to love me again.”
“So you thought you’d kidnap me?”
“I thought if you had some time to yourself, away from him”—he jerks his head toward me—“you’d remember how good we were together, how much you loved me.”
“I never loved you, Jason.” Amy leans closer to him and spits in his face. “I barely even liked you.”
“I wasn’t going to hurt you, Amy. I was always going to let you go.”
Amy rocks back on her heels and stares at him. “You’re insane, you know that? Why the essays? The seven deadly sins.” I have no idea what she’s talking about. I can’t even remember what the seven deadly sins are. I want to leave. Get her away from here. From him.
Jason squirms and mutters, “I saw it in a movie. I thought it was cool. And scary.”
“You thought it was cool. And scary,” Amy repeats, shaking her head. Her hair, which is usually shiny and thick, is lank and matted.
“Yeah,” Jason says. “I’m sorry. Nicki said it would work. She said she’d get Eric back, and you’d be with me again.”
“Nicki?” Amy sounds dazed.
“So Nicki’s the criminal mastermind?” I ask.
Jason nods. “It was all her idea.”
“Even the rape?”
Amy gasps. “What rape?” Her face is ashen, her eyes wide. She gets up and backs away from Jason, tripping on the mattress.
“Vanna Bryson,” I say. “Jeremy’s little sister. Jason raped her. Nicki took pictures. It’s all on her phone. Which I have.”
Jason groans. “It wasn’t rape, man.”
“Looked like rape to me,” I say. “Statutory. Guess the cops can figure that out.” I pick Amy up off the mattress, where she has curled herself into a ball. She smells bad, but I don’t care. I look around the room before we leave. There is writing all over one wall. And pictures. Crazy pictures. An animal, a devil, a treasure chest, a lightning bolt and a fat man with a huge hard-on. The tower of furniture leads to a small opening in a row of glass blocks. I can see a little square of blue sky. I carry her out of the room, locking the door behind me. She buries her face in my shoulder as the elevator drifts silently down to the ground floor. Once we’re outside, I put her down on a low stone wall and drape my jacket around her shoulders.
“What is this place?” she says. Her teeth are starting to chatter.
“Some building Jason’s parents own,” I say as I call the police and ask for Detective Rayburn. “It’s unoccupied. I guess that’s why no one saw Jason bringing you here.”
“How did you find me?”
“I followed him. He wasn’t exactly hiding. Just being Jason. You know— stupid.”
“But how did you know it was him?”
“Nicki took pictures of you and Shawna outside the party. And of Shawna and Jason putting you in the Beemer. You were pretty out of it. My guess would be Shawna put something in your drink.”
“I don’t remember anything past getting in the car,” Amy says. “Nothing at all.”
“I would have been here sooner, but Mom needed the car.” The minute I say it, I realize how lame it sounds. “I mean, I had to have a car to follow him. But it looks like you figured a way out anyway.”
Amy is silent.
Detective Rayburn finally comes on the line, and I say, “I found her. I found Amy. We’re over by the lake. Near the brewery.” I give him the address.
“We’ve been getting calls about some girl screaming and waving a flag near there,” he says. “And some guy’s windshield got smashed by a falling glass block. Squad cars are on the way. Anything to do with you?”
“Probably,” I say. I turn to Amy, who is staring out over the lake. “You know anything about a glass block and a flag?”
She nods but doesn’t speak.
“Yeah, that was Amy,” I say. “I guess she had a plan.”
“Smart girl,” Rayburn says. “If you hadn’t turned up, we would have been there soon though.”
After I hang up, I sit beside Amy on the wall and put my arms around her.
“The cops will be here soon. They’ll have a lot of questions. You want to call your mom first?” I punch in the number.
She nods and says, “Speaker” through clenched teeth. She is shivering uncontrollably now. I can hear sirens. Lots of sirens.
Her mom answers the phone. “Hello? Eric, is that you?”
“It’s me, Mom,” Amy says. Her voice is steady, even as her body shakes. “It’s me, Amy.”