Wake to Dream(79)

"How far did I fall?"

It wasn't until her words echoed back to her from the walls of the dark, desolate room that she knew she'd spoken them aloud.

"Far enough." A grunt escaped his lips, his strong body lifting her from the floor. Heat was thick across his skin, uncomfortably so.

As he carried her through the space, Alice couldn’t make out much of the objects that were down there. A flashing light caught her sight, a door that was closed and an electric panel to its side. Beyond that, she could see the empty black square of what resembled a television. And next to that, a shelf with rows and rows of DVDs.

Max’ steps were labored over the cement floor, his thick leather boots creaking with every small movement of his ankle; the sounds amplified by the pervasive moments of silence that came between.

Reaching the second level, Alice clenched her eyes shut against the onslaught of bright, white light that bathed the room. She opened her mouth to question him about what he’d been doing in the basement, but speech failed her, the words thick on the tip of her tongue.

As if sensing her struggle to fill the deafening silence, Max spoke, relieving her of that small part of her anxiety.

"I'll give you time to regain your strength. We have a lot to discuss.”

Kneeling down, Max dropped her weight on the cushions, keeping his eyes on her as she settled against the couch.

He stepped away after climbing back to his feet and crossed through into another room, disappearing from sight.

When he returned, he had a plastic case in his hand. Alice recognized it as a DVD, but there was no cover photo or anything to indicate if it was a movie or something else entirely.

Sitting on the coffee table in front of her, Max set the case aside and looked down on her with a sullen and dark expression.

“Before I show you this, before I let you in this far, I want you to know that I'm not a monster, Alice. Not entirely."

Dread shot through her, memories of the strange conversation she’d overhead while climbing down the stairs. “Who’s in the basement, Max? Who was that woman I heard?”

He stared at her for a few tense moments before answering, “She’s not in the basement anymore.” There was no inflection in his voice. It was a placid tone with no hint of emotion.

Alice breathed out, a shudder running over his skin as her head turned to glance around the room. “Then where is she?”

He grinned, the expression more menacing than friendly. “She’s in the garden.”

Shaking her head, Alice attempted to clear the fog of pain that muddied her thoughts. “Who is she, Max? Why was she in our house and why did she go outside?”

He laughed, his eyes growing colder and darker than she’d seen before. Reaching over, he brushed his palm along her cheek. “Don’t worry, my love. She’s been there for a long time.”

Fighting the urge to cry, Alice jerked her face away from his hand, her brows knitting together in anger. “You’re not making sense, Max. Just tell me who the woman was. Why was she in our basement?”

Refusing to answer her, Max silently watched as the confusion overwhelmed her. Ideas raced through her mind, questions on whether Max had been unfaithful to her, if he’d somehow been sneaking women into the basement so he could cheat. She shook her head at the ridiculousness of that idea, but then her thoughts focused on the trips he often took.

Were they really so he could oversee his business?

Her voice broken and shaking, she spoke with panic obvious in every word. “Damn it, Max! What are you trying to tell me? I don’t understand.”

Practically shrieking the final words, the pitch of her voice had been a crescendo driven by the emotions that were a vicious deluge inside her.

“Just watch.”

Stepping over to a television tucked into the corner of the room, Max inserted the silver disk into a player. The television turned on.

A closed circuit camera view of a small, well lit room revealed a woman sitting on a bed, her head concealed by the hood that covered it.

Alice’s breath caught at the sight of the chains that hung above the bed where the woman sat, the glint of light against metal striking fear into her heart and mind. Curled over herself, the woman’s shoulders shook on a sob, but the sound didn't carry through the speakers of the television.

Pink paint covered the walls above white chair rails that ran the room. Posters with kittens and rainbows were hung on each wall, a day bed pushed off to the side with a gold frame and white, frilly bed sheets. The carpet was pink shag that matched the paint, and dolls were scattered throughout the room on shelves and perched to appear lifelike on a large, overstuffed chair.

Alice felt sick staring at the contrast of the innocence of youth against the sinister truth of that poor woman’s captivity. Studying her every expression, Max stood off to the side of the television, his shrewd gaze fixed on Alice.

“What am I looking at?” she murmured, asking the question of Max as much as herself.

The disbelief inside her kept her from recognizing what she saw. Horror and denial kept her from considering that the video had anything to do with Max.

However, when a tall man stepped into the picture, when her eyes focused on the wavy, shoulder length hair, the scarred olive skin and eyes the color of an artic sea, she froze in place, terrified of what she’d see.

The man in the video wasn’t in a hurry. He stared down at the woman, angling his head as if in question. Alice knew that behavior well, it was a habit of the man she loved. His mouth moved as he spoke to the woman, but the volume wasn’t high enough for Alice to hear what he said.