Leanne was on a bed with Gracie, squeezing her daughter tight. Hours had passed without a grand epiphany of how to save them.
“Mommy, you’re hurting me.”
She released her hold some and ran a hand over Gracie’s hair. “Sorry, sweetie.” If she had a mere penny for every time she’d apologized since they’d been trapped here, she’d be a rich woman. But it was really the if onlys that were devouring her alive. If only she hadn’t kept Gracie home from school the other day. If only she hadn’t agreed to join him for ice cream. If only she hadn’t left her cell phone behind in the trunk of her car—an idea she thought smart at the time. But if she’d brought it along, it didn’t mean he’d find it and discard it with certainty. She might have been able to hide it from him and lead the police right to his door.
But, no, like a moth, she flew too close to the flame. She’d seen flickers of hope and adventure that came from spending time with a relative stranger. It had been served up like a temptation, luring her from her oppressive life. It had been titillating for a few moments.
But look where that got her—and worse, Gracie. All because Leanne had dared to pull strength from within and turn her back on her husband. He’d been telling the truth those times he told her she was nothing without him. The proof was there: she’d failed to keep her daughter safe. It was one job she’d been given, a blessing and responsibility, and she’d screwed it up.
She was stupid, just like Billy had told her. He was right about everything he’d said about her. Even as a spark inside screamed he spoke lies, the truth was clear. She was to blame for this. And because of her selfishness and stupidity they very well might die.
If the man was going to let them go, he would have by now. But he hadn’t yet killed them either. Suppose there was some hope in that.
If only she knew what he wanted from them. He’d visited twice. Both times were brief, and he had dropped off bottles of water. Never spoke a single word. Leanne had tried to get him to talk, asking him what he wanted. He’d just stare blankly at her.
That only scared her more, making escape that much more imperative. But she could feel herself getting sucked into a pit of hopelessness.
They might as well be in a prison. The door was secured with three deadbolts. When he came to visit, each clunk was like a hit to the heart. They were on the second floor of a house. There was just the one window, lined with bars, and an attached bathroom.
She might be able to work the bars out of the old wood frame if she had a tool to use. But if she got the bars out, then what? How would they reach the ground and where would they go from there?
There weren’t any other houses within sight, just a run-down barn and miles of fields and trees. The area wasn’t one she recognized, but the house had to be set next to a road. They could head for there and flag down help…
She sighed. Escaping felt on par with spotting a live unicorn.
But maybe, just maybe, the fact she’d left her phone behind would lead police to them. Or was that giving them too much credit? After all, the phone wasn’t with her. But, surely, it would speak of foul play.
Any whispers of hope were blown aside by a storm of overwhelming chastisement. She was a horrible mother, who didn’t deserve Gracie. If she’d been a good mom, she would have seen the man for who he was in time to avoid this outcome. But it had been too late when she’d caught the darkness in his eyes. He had seen things, done things.
Chills flushed through her at the memory and had her trembling.
What do you want from us? she screamed in her head.
Their only possibility of being saved was the police. Surely, they would be looking for them.
“When can we go home?” Her daughter’s blue eyes were pooled with tears, her voice tiny, as she pulled back and looked at her mother.
“Soon, baby.” She had to remain strong for Gracie, even for herself. What she wouldn’t tell Gracie until later is they were never going home. She never wanted to see Billy again.
Her daughter’s breathing deepened as she dozed off, leaving Leanne with one thought of gratitude. Thank God the man hadn’t touched Gracie.
But Leanne couldn’t just sit here and wait to find out their fate. She had to take some control. If it was the last thing she did, she’d get Gracie to freedom. Somehow. Someway.
She moved Gracie off her, being careful not to disturb her sleep, and walked to the window. If only their surroundings had changed. But the view offered nothing new. In fact, there was less to see. It was night, and a blanket of stars glimmered overhead. She sought out the brightest one and made a wish, tears squeezing from her eyes as she did.
The clunk of a deadbolt.
Leanne stiffened and turned.
Another one.
She hurried toward the bed.
Gracie had bolted awake, as if harassed by a nightmare, and cried out for her.
The third lock clicked, and the door opened.
“Let us go. Please,” Leanne belted out, petitioning for their release yet again.
He didn’t even look at her but kept walking toward them, his head slightly cocked, his expression eerily soft. He held a stuffed toy elephant toward Gracie. Her daughter was worming into the corner behind her, trying to make herself small.
“She wants nothing from you,” Leanne spat, her heart pounding so hard she feared it jumping from her chest. “Just let us go.”
“I thought you’d like it.” The man leaned across the bed and wriggled the doll in front of Gracie. “You always loved elephants.”
“No.” Gracie tucked her legs into herself, burrowing her head against her knees.
“Please, leave my daughter alone.”
The man’s gaze snapped to meet Leanne’s. And it was there again. The darkness. Rolling in as fog overtaking a field in early evening, suppressing it in an eerie calm.
Leanne’s next breath froze. She was afraid to inhale, to make any movement. It was then she spotted a silver chain around his neck just as it dipped beneath the collar of his T-shirt. The necklace held a pendant—possibly more than one.
If she showed interest in the adornment, culled out its meaning to him, that might lead to conversation. In turn, that might establish a bond and give him a change of heart. She’d witnessed this tactic play out often enough on crime dramas she’d watched over the years.
“Nice necklace.” She pointed toward the chain. “I have a locket on mine.” She pinched the small gold heart between her fingers. It had been a gift from her mother years ago, before she’d passed, before Billy. “See? It opens.” Leanne pried at the clasp and revealed a tiny photograph of herself holding Gracie when she was a baby. Showing something so personal and intimate to this man had goosebumps crawling over her skin, raising the hairs on her arms and back of her neck.
The man snarled and mumbled incoherently as he headed toward the door. She was quite sure she made out two names: Cheryl and Holly. Whoever the hell they were. Then a theory hit.
Shit, he… he… She’d seen it before on one of those crime shows. The episodes where the killer thought his victims were someone else.
“We’re Leanne and Gracie,” she screamed.
Each deadbolt thunked shut, sealing off their freedom, likely their fate.
Leanne dropped onto the bed, sitting on the stuffed toy. She hurled it across the room, and it thumped against the wall.
“I’m scared, Mommy.”
“Me too, baby. Me too.” She hugged her little girl, trying to conjure a single pleasant thought that put them somewhere far away from here.