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I woke, unsure where I was. An arm rested on my waist, and a warm body pressed close to my back. Someone was spooning me. Seconds ticked by as I tried to recollect my last memory. I’d fallen asleep. The person behind me was Newbie. I swatted his hand.
“Why are you touching me?” I asked, irritated at his presumptuous assumption that I’d appreciate his touch.
“You were talking a lot in your sleep. I was trying to comfort you and also keep you quiet,” he answered sleepily. “Sorry,” he said without moving his arm.
“Thanks for keeping me quiet. I am awake now, though, so will you please remove your arm?”
When he did, I began to shake. The crawl space felt colder, the air danker, the papers smelled older, mustier. I wanted his warmth back but not his nearness. I brought my knees to my chest and rubbed my hands up and down my arms. When that didn’t work, I sandwiched my arms in between my legs and torso. I was still freezing.
“I understand not wanting to be touched,” he began, “but your shivering is going to rattle the rafters,” Newbie joked. “Please, let me hold you and keep you warm.”
I contemplated his offer. Our conversation before I slept returned. He seemed to disagree with my desire to kill Joe, if afforded the opportunity. That stance had pissed me off, made me feel as if I were as despicable a person as the nightmare roaming free in my house. But he didn’t understand. He didn’t know what I’d been through, hadn’t suffered because of it. He had no right to judge me or my wishes.
“I don’t like you,” I said. What remained of my tact was gone.
“That seems a bit harsh. Shouldn’t you get to know me before making that assumption?” For having been insulted, his voice stayed even, as if he didn’t believe me or thought he could change my mind.
“I know you well enough,” I said, my teeth chattering. I curled my body inward as far as it would go.
His arm enclosed around me without my permission. I wanted to resist but couldn’t muster the desire to freeze any longer.
“Would it help if I said I might kill him too?”
“Not at all. Our first thoughts are our true feelings. You didn’t express that opinion earlier. Saying it now means nothing. Besides, I wasn’t fishing for that.”
“What were you after then?”
“Honesty, I guess. I have been on my own for so long now; it would have been nice not to feel lonely any longer. But the moment is over. It is irrelevant now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have no reason to apologize. You’re experiencing this too. However you want to react is your decision.”
A dam burst as I said words, which were almost verbatim to those Kris had spoken to me. An entire night had passed. I had forgotten about her, left her alone and defenseless. I slept while she suffered.
I flung Newbie’s hand off my body. I jolted upright, nearly hitting my head on a low support beam. My hands searched the floor around me; maybe she’d been brought back without me or Newbie hearing. There was nothing but old papers. I held my pulsing head in the palm of my hands.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Newbie said, my fear palpable even in the darkness. “We’ll get to her somehow. Have a little faith, Erin. Stay with me. Just breathe, okay?”
Despite my irrational aggravation with him, I did as he said. My breaths were short and fast at first, becoming slow and regular with each passing moment. His hand cupped the side of my face. His thumb brushed over my brow. He repeated everything was going to be all right often enough that the words became my mantra. When he said I could count on him to stay with me no matter what happened, I believed him.
I was so tired of being alone.
I’d hold onto his words—they offered me hope, that elusive feeling I’d been seeking since first meeting Joe and Doris. Perhaps Betty had been right that if you reach for it, dream about it, imagine it enveloping you, it would find you.
A scream, not from downstairs but from right outside the small door, forced me to cling to my newfound hope with a tight grip. Newbie was relaxed, at ease. A fact I found disconcerting and enviable. I wished he could give me some of his composure.
Long, agonizing minutes passed. Nothing happened. Without laying a finger on me, my torture had already begun.
Newbie stroked my arm and held firm to one of my hands in a vain attempt to calm my rising nerves. Panic stretched every tendon in my body to the point of breaking, like a rubber band pulled too hard.
My heartbeats ticked off the seconds that passed.
No more screams. No speaking.
Finally, a woman’s mumbled voice, followed by the infamous unlocking of the crawl space door, confirmed we weren’t alone. An ethereal light penetrated our four walls, almost as if the gate to heaven opened for us to walk through. As serene as the view was, whatever awaited us on the other side was anything but angelic.
No one demanded we crawl out, nor was anyone tossed inside. Newbie tugged at my hand, but I resisted. He wanted to leave without being told we could. He really was a newbie—he knew nothing about the punishments given for disobeying.
He looked at me over his shoulder, a grimace on his face as his ab muscles tightened. In a hushed voice, he said, “Remember what I told you earlier—I will keep you safe. Please trust me.
“Sleeping beside you last night was the calmest I’ve been, maybe in years. You’re angry at me for what I didn’t say. I get that. I wish you’d have given me time to explain what I’d said or didn’t say. Soon. Until then, know I have no intention of letting you go or letting anyone hurt you again. Don’t worry so much. I’m here now.” He implored me with his eyes, those damn emerald eyes glowing brightly in the sunlight.
I swallowed down my nerves and followed him to the door. Once we were on the edge of that metaphorical cliff, we inhaled a deep breath and jumped. Joe was standing there, expectantly, as if he knew we’d come out of our own free will like moths to the flame, willingly offering ourselves to the fire.
After my night with Newbie, and my discovery of hope, Joe looked different to me. He didn’t seem as tall, his hair looked thinner, and the depths of his eyes, while still a terrifying, empty well of darkness, didn’t seem as threatening as before. Even his hands, the hands that not all that long ago had rested on my throat with a grip around my windpipe, appeared insignificant in size. He wasn’t the giant standing over me. He was just a man, albeit a man that still held me captive, could kill me, or do more unspeakable things to me. But he was a man, nonetheless.
While his eyes glared at my hand entwined in Newbie’s, I surveyed the bedroom. Curtains, a soft shade of taupe, were drawn almost entirely shut over the window that overlooked the street, though plenty of light was shining into the room. The full-sized bed was made with the new bedding I hadn’t yet removed from the zippered, plastic packaging I’d purchased from Bed Bath and Beyond. The dark brown suede with a white border near the edge went nicely with the hardwood floor and new, light-colored window treatments.
The ebony-stained solid wood nightstands were in place with the new bedside lamps situated in the center of each table. The hope chest I inherited from my great grandmother sat proudly at the foot of the bed. A quilt Betty had made for me to take when I went away to college, folded in thirds, laid across the top.
The room had developed from the picture exactly as I’d envisioned in my head, which made me happy and furious. Doris had unpacked my belongings, organized my kitchen, and decorated my spare bedroom. She’d robbed me of all the exciting tasks I was eager to tackle. My house was feeling less and less like home with every exit I made from the crawl space.
I returned my focus to Newbie; looking at the room further was only going to make me angrier.
In the light of day, against his pale skin, his wounds were far worse than I’d observed in the darkness of the crawl space. Many of his lacerations were sealed shut with a thick layer of coagulated blood. Four of the ten cuts were three or four inches long. The other six were smaller, no more than two inches, though their gruesome appearance looked no less painful. The one over his heart, the one that had taken the longest to clot, had bled over his pecs, the ridge of his abs, and down both of his sides.
His once noticeably perfect skin was forever tarnished, and it was an image I’d never forget for as long as I had left to live.
Newbie’s warm hand squeezing mine drew my eyes up to meet his. I was happy for the diversion. His maimed skin and blood-soaked socks were more than I could take. How he survived the pain inflicted on him, and the pain he must have felt all through the night was unfathomable to me. He was either impervious to it or hid the throbbing ache behind a well-trained mask.
He offered me a smile. Though it was weak, it managed to light his green eyes, as if a candle burned through a piece of sea glass. Those eyes grew more beautiful with every glance in my direction. Their tranquility almost made me forget where I was and at whose hands I was being kept.
Almost.
Joe’s throat-clearing shattered my peaceful moment. I laughed to myself at the odd event unfolding. Joe had interrupted my silent conversation with Newbie in an unobtrusive manner. When I looked at Joe, he was staring at Newbie. Stranger yet, Newbie was staring back as if he had no fear.
My time of reflection was cut short by the mumbled woman’s voice I’d heard before. I had thought that the sound was coming from the spare bedroom, but the three of us were the only ones there.
I watched Joe, waiting for his command—after all, he was still in control—but he made no attempt to move. Neither did Newbie, so neither did I. The tension continued to build as the silence stretched out. I couldn’t fathom what would make those two men play a childish staring game.
My mind ran a loop of the muffled voice and my desperate need to go toward it. I squeezed Newbie’s hand and prayed that Joe didn’t hurt him when he turned away to look at me.
My prayer was answered—Joe did nothing to stop Newbie’s eyes from landing on mine. I breathed in slowly, held it deep in my lungs then released it in a relaxed, cleansing manner. Newbie was safe.
His eyes focused on mine, imploring me to speak, to explain what I needed as if he could give me whatever I wanted. I wished that were true. I’d beg him to take me away, never let Joe hurt me again, keep me safe for the rest of time.
Against my craving to say what I wished for, experiences from the not-so-distant past sealed my lips shut. Until permission was given for me to speak, I’d stay mute.
“It’s okay,” Newbie whispered.
I held my breath. That was going to be it. Joe was going to hurt Newbie in some way for speaking, and it was because of me.
“Tell me,” he said, louder.
My shirt clung to me. I wiped sweat from my brow with clammy hands. If not for Newbie’s kind eyes, I’d have never taken the risk, but his stare told me Joe wouldn’t hurt me no matter what I said. Call it insanity, call it nerves, call it just plain stupidity. His confidence became my own. Suddenly I had the sense that I had a right to speak, and so I did.
“I think that might be Kris making those noises. If it is, I think she’s in pain. She needs our help.”
Newbie didn’t respond. I took a furtive glance toward Joe—he was speechless as well. The silence in the room seemed to amplify. I shouldn’t have said anything. That was why I didn’t speak without permission. Fear of what would happen next wrapped its familiar hands around my throat. Would Joe separate me from Newbie, insistent that he was a bad influence? Would he attack Newbie or maybe put a fist into one of his recent wounds? If it was Kris, would the attention be drawn back to her? Would she suffer more because of me?
My wide eyes felt too big for their sockets. The beat of a drum grew steadier, louder, inside my skull. I pressed my hand to my forehead. It did nothing to alleviate the pain.
Newbie’s full lips parted, greeting me with a sincere smile. Without thought, I returned the smile. Somehow, I ignored my worries and fears, focusing only on his contentment. One of us had gone mad, finally snapped, that was the only logical explanation.
I tried to fight the budding need growing inside of me, but it was impossible, and once I began, I couldn’t stop. I laughed, which made Newbie laugh, and then, unbelievably, Joe began to laugh. As if under group hypnosis, we’d all lost our minds in unison.
As quickly as it began, it ceased when a once-mumbling voice became an ear-shattering scream. I fell to my knees, yanking my hand free from Newbie’s. I started to scream, and I’d probably have kept on doing so if his hand on my arm hadn’t started shaking me violently.