Any trace of softness disappears as a dark veil shrouds River’s face. “You did.”
River turns his back and walks to the door.
Frustration fires inside of me. I curl my fist around the hilt of my knife and lift my arm but I can’t bring myself to throw it. So I just hold it there, frozen, and watch as he slips out, the door sealing shut behind him.
“Argh,” I groan, collapsing back on the bed. I lie there for a while, waiting for my heartrate to go back to normal and the tears to stop stinging my eyes.
This was not part of the plan. I knew the guys would be mad I’d run but this is a whole new level of crazy. How am I even supposed to help with the case if I’m locked in my room?Fuck.I squeeze my eyes shut and pull myself together. I am not helpless, and I am no-one’s prisoner.
I tug at my cuffed wrist.Yeah, this is so not going to work for me.
I roll onto my stomach and use the tip of the knife to pick the lock on the handcuffs. It’s a bit awkward but eventually they pop open and I’m free to explore the room.
I turn the light on and my heart squeezes as I take in the navy sheets and the built-in willow closets. The light catches on the gold accents in the navy wallpaper and I have to stop for a moment to blink away the blurriness. I don’t think I realized just how home sick I was until this moment. I’m torn between how right it feels to be back here and how wrong it is that this room is once again my prison.
I run my tongue around my mouth to try and ease the lump in my throat and shake the emotions off. If River’s playing dirty, then so am I and Iwillfind a way out of here.
I go to the window first, but it’s sealed seamlessly into the wall and one tap of my knuckles tells me River wasn’t lying, the glass is bulletproof. Even if I was strong enough to lift the armchair, I doubt it would be able to break the glass.
I search the ensuite next but other than being stocked with my favorite strawberry shampoo and conditioner there’s nothing of use.
The door itself is stainless steel and patterns of light fall across the silver surface from the lamp shade. I trace my fingers along the edges of the metal, searching for any sort of mechanism but it’s sealed tight. There’s no handle, no lock, not even a keypad I can try and hack. There’s no way this door is opening from the inside.
“Fuck.” I hit the base of my fist against the metal and close my eyes against the rising panic.
I’m safe. River may be a bastard, but no one here is going to hurt me. I need to focus on that and not on the fact that I’m locked up.
Locked. Up.
My breaths come faster. The last time I was actually locked inside somewhere was when the guys first arrested me. I was in the interrogation room for less than five minutes before I escaped. This time, I don’t think I’m going anywhere and that terrifies me.
I spent every other day of my childhood locked in a basement and I can feel the trauma bubbling to the surface. My skin crawls, the veins in my arms buzzing with adrenaline. I back away from the door, breathing through my nose to try and stop from hyperventilating but each breath just makes the room feel smaller.
Darkness blurs the edges of my eyes, the space around me shifting out of focus as the concrete walls of the basement slam down in my mind.I need to get out of here. I need to get the fuck out.I try to fight it but I’m too tired, too scared, and the buzzing in my ears grows louder as I’m sucked into a flashback.
It’s my day to be in the basement. I’m stuck in here alone until Allie gets back from school. She left me a story written on the back wall in our secret code, but I’ve read it five times already. The basement is cold and even when I close my eyes and pretend to be on the playground the dank smell down here ruins it.
I lie down on the bare mattress. Maybe I can sleep some of the day away.
A tapping at the door has my eyes flicking open. It’s too early for Allie to be back.
The tapping gets louder and I creep up the stairs to the basement door.
“Hello, hello.” Tap. Tap. “I know you’re in there Little Star.”
I jerk back, tripping on the step, and the sound of his soft chuckle has me shuddering. No. No, no, no.
I stumble back down the stairs and press myself against the wall, getting as far away fromhimas possible. The urge to scream grows in my chest but I know no one will come. I bite the back of my hand instead.
“I could open this door you know.”
He’s lying. Only Daddy can open the door.
“Oh little staaarr,” the boy sing songs.
I press my lips together and bring my hands to my ears. The whoosh blocks out his voice but then a ringing starts.
I frown. The sound is wrong. Out of place in the dim basement.
