Cut and Run(36)

He inserted the key into the manacle’s lock and twisted. The metal loosened, and he gently pulled it off her ankle, leaving a raw strip of flesh in its place. “That’s got to smart.”

“It does.”

“I got some salve for that.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a tube of antibiotic cream.

She accepted it, fingering the fresh tube and wondering how she could use it to escape.

“Eat up, girl. That burger is getting cold.”

She’d been nauseated with morning sickness the entire pregnancy, and it felt good to have an appetite again.

As she ate, he took the tube back and spread ointment on his fingers. He motioned for her to hold her leg out, and when she did, he carefully rubbed cream on the worn skin.

His touch was gentle, and it shamed her that she responded to his kindness. She was so starved for people and affection that even her jailer’s touch was welcome.

“What if something goes wrong with the baby?” she asked.

“Don’t borrow trouble. That baby and you are going to be just fine.”

He was going to kill her. She’d feared this since the moment he’d locked her in here, but the instant she’d seen the initials on the back of the dresser, she’d known those women had not survived.

Without a word, he took her by the elbow and helped her to her feet. “Time to go.”

She cringed. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a better place than this. A bigger room.”

When she didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed her tighter and pulled her the rest of the way to her feet. “Let’s go.”

She dug her heels in. At least she was familiar with this hellhole. Here she at least had the pen and the two magazines containing the words of the other girls. “Where are we going?”

“Like I said, a new place.”

“I don’t want to die!”

He shook his head, grinning as if she’d lost her mind. “You ain’t going to die.”

Her belly felt heavy as she stood. “I don’t have shoes.”

“You don’t need shoes. You won’t be outside long.” Taking her by the arm, he pulled her out of the room, past her discarded cot still tossed against a cement wall, and toward a set of stairs. She glanced back at the room. Every night she’d dreamed of escaping it, but now that she was leaving, she was terrified. That room was the devil she knew, not the unknown hell about to come.

As she tried to keep pace with his long strides, her gaze swept the room. There was a washer and dryer and even some of her clothes drying on a clothesline strung between two posts. There were shelves stocked with canned food, baby provisions, and medical supplies. It could have been anyone’s basement. It looked ordinary. It was normal.

He yanked her and forced her up the stairs. She’d barely had any activity in the last few months and found by the time she reached the top stair, she was breathless with legs of rubber.

He yanked her through a kitchen equipped with avocado-green appliances that screamed 1970s retro. The smell of Clorox hung in the air.

“I’m afraid,” she stammered.

“No reason to be worried. We’re just getting you to a nicer room.”

“Please, just let me go. I won’t tell. I just want to go home.”

His fingers tightened around her forearm. Not painful yet, but close. “I could shove sleeping pills down your throat, but you don’t want me to do that. It’s bad for the baby.”

More questions sprang to mind, but she held them close, knowing he would make good on this threat. He always did.

He dragged her through a small living room covered in gold shag carpet and then out the front door. As her bare feet stepped onto the rough wood of the front deck, she was greeted by bright afternoon sunshine. Wincing, she had to look away from the sky, even as she savored the first lungful of fresh air she had inhaled in months. It smelled so sweet she nearly wept. Her face tipped toward the sun and absorbed every bit of its warmth. She’d been such a fool to take the sun, her mother, and her freedom for granted.

“No dawdling.” He jerked her toward his truck, opened the front door, and ordered her inside. She struggled with her belly and unsure legs. She was still breathless when she climbed up into the seat. “Put your seat belt on. Don’t want you getting hurt. And there are sunglasses in the glove box. Put them on.”

She clicked the seat belt in place. “Where are we going?”

“I told you not to worry. It’s a better place.”

“Like as in dead? Like heaven?”

He laughed. “Like another house.” He then pointed a meaty finger at her, and his tone changed instantly. “Get out of the car while I’m walking to my seat, and I will break your legs when I catch you. You hear me, girl?”

“I hear.”

He came around the hood quickly, watching her, and before she could map out or process escape, he was behind the wheel.

He started the engine and drove down the graveled driveway. She glanced back at the house, thought about the initials carved on the back of the dresser and the other women who’d been held there. Was this what happened to them?

“Don’t look so worried.” He flashed her that dazzling smile.

He slowed at a stoplight on the main road that she guessed was west of Austin, somewhere near the Hill Country.