Girl on the Verge

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Girl on the Verge Page 20

by Pintip Dunn


  I’m just beginning to contemplate gnawing off my arm when the doorknob turns. I brace myself for another encounter with Shelly.

  But it’s not my “friend” who rushes into the room. It’s Ethan. Dear, sweet Ethan. Still-handcuffed Ethan, who is now carrying a plank of wood and tripping over his feet as he drags a length of chain behind him.

  “Ethan! How did you get free? And why are you carrying that board?”

  He turns the plank over, showing me the metal loop embedded in it. The same loop to which he is attached. “We have to hurry. Shelly’s in her room, getting ready for the second part of our date. We don’t have much time.” He drops the plank. “I’ll going to break the headboard.”

  Taking a deep breath, he kicks the headboard as hard as he can. It doesn’t move a millimeter. “We just need a loose joint,” he mutters. “Something to give me leverage.”

  He wraps both hands around the column and pulls. He yanks, he shoves, he pounds. My wrist vibrates, and the metal clanks into my bones and shreds skin. But nothing, nothing, nothing.

  After a full two minutes, Ethan places his hands on his knees, panting. Sweat drenches his hair, and the redness of his fists matches his cheeks. “Just give me a second,” he gasps. “I’ll try again. I’m not giving up.”

  I glance at the door nervously. “You’re making too much noise. She’s going to hear you, and then we’ll really be in trouble. Forget me. You’ve got to get out of here.”

  A pulse throbs at his temple. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Please, Ethan, you have to,” I plead. “She’s going to kill you. I don’t know when. After she gets bored, I guess. She thinks you’re cute, but to her, all guys are expendable. You have to get out of here before she hurts you. It’s different for me. She thinks of me as her sister. She wants me alive.”

  His eyes flash. “You don’t know that, Kan. I’m not going to risk your life on something as changeable as her state of mind.”

  “If you leave, you can get help and come back.”

  “By the time I get back, the two of you will be long gone. We may never find you again.”

  “At least you’ll be alive,” I say, my eyes filling with tears. “You have to go. Now. While you still have the chance. Before she makes you do things that will scar you forever.”

  He pales but lifts his chin. “You can say whatever you want, but I’m not leaving you.” He attacks the headboard with renewed energy, but the result is the same. Battered fists and no movement.

  “Wait, Ethan. Stop. Let’s think about this. Can we overpower her? You have the board now. Maybe you can knock her out.”

  “It’s risky.” He pushes a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure I can sneak up on her with this chain. If she sees me approaching or guesses my intention, if she gets to the gun before I can knock her out . . .” He shakes his head. “I can try, if that’s our best option.”

  “We need something more subtle.” I chew on my lip. “We have to get the key to my handcuffs. Where does she keep the key?”

  “Probably on her.”

  “You’re right. She unlocked my cuffs and by the time I turned around, the key was already gone. The dress has no pockets and it’s skintight. I should know; I made it,” I say, thinking quickly. “What else was she wearing tonight?”

  He grimaces. “I have no idea. I was trying not to look at her.”

  “Come on, Ethan, think! This is important. Was she carrying a purse? Did she have on any jewelry or a belt—”

  “A necklace. She was wearing this jagged thing around her neck.”

  My heart stops. “Of course,” I whisper. “The BFF necklace.” It was the strangest BFF necklace I had ever seen. The bottom of each partial heart had a weird, jagged edge that looked almost like a key. But what if it actually is a key? What if that’s the reason she kept it, when she left all of her other jewelry behind?

  “That’s it,” I say. “That jagged pendant hanging on the chain. That must be the key.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No. But it’s the best guess I have.”

  A board squeaks. It could be the cabin settling—or Shelly could be coming.

  “You’d better get out of here.” I swallow hard, not believing what I’m about to say. “You have to romance her. The only way we’ll get the key is if you can distract her. Convince her that you’re truly into her. Not because of me. But because of her.”

  He takes a deep breath. “If it’s your safety at stake, I’ll do anything.” He leans forward and presses his lips to mine. It is sweet and searing and perfect. If this is the last kiss I’ll ever have, I’m glad it’s with him.

  “I want you to know, Kan, when I’m with her . . .” He trails off.

  “You don’t have to say it.” I bring my free hand to his face, tracing the bones of his jaw. “I forgive you, in advance, for everything.”

  He stops. “Even if you don’t know what you’re forgiving me for?”

  A single tear spills from my eye. “Even then.”

  He kisses my cheek, swallowing the tear. And then he is gone.

  Chapter 46

  Shelly escaped to her room. She had given Ethan her best seductive smile and purred that she needed to freshen up before they headed on to the next phase of their evening. But it had all been a lie.

  She rapped her knuckles against her thighs and paced the room, from her bed to the dresser to the door. It was all going wrong. So terribly wrong, and she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to fix it.

  Oh, sure, Ethan smiled at her. He ate the food; he listened to her talk. But she could tell he was playing a role—and not doing a very good job at that. He wasn’t interested in her. He just didn’t want her to hurt his precious Kan. Which made her want to hurt Kan even more.

  She’d spent so much time planning. She’d gone to so much trouble to set the scene of their date. And now, she didn’t even want to go through with it.

  It was all Kan’s fault.

  Shelly kicked the door inside her room. Rage built inside her, brick by brick, until it rivaled the Sears freaking Tower.

  Kan could’ve helped her, instead of giving her useless advice. She knew exactly how to snare Ethan’s attention. Hell, she’d done it herself. She could’ve taught Shelly. That’s what a real sister would’ve done. But she didn’t want to.

  Shelly rubbed angrily at her eyes. Contrary to what Kan might believe, she wasn’t going to make Ethan have sex with her. She wasn’t a damn rapist. Couldn’t they understand? She wanted him to come to her willingly. To be interested in her for her own sake.

  Kan had told her she didn’t have to pretend to be anybody else. That she was perfectly lovable exactly how she was.

  Please. That might’ve been the biggest lie ever told in this world.

  Here Shelly was, her true, honest self. And did Ethan love her? No. Did Kan love her? Hell no. Kan was supposed to be her friend. She was supposed to put Shelly’s best interests before any boy’s, the way she’d promised. But the first thing she did when Shelly took something for herself was run off and investigate her.

  This made the bricks of rage build even faster inside her. She couldn’t afford to lose control, not again. She’d lost control with Ash. She’d lost control with Khun Yai. Both those incidents were mistakes, and she wouldn’t repeat them. When she killed again, it would be with cool, levelheaded deliberation.

  She sighed. Looking in the mirror, she began to finger-comb her hair, trying to get it back into some kind of style. Kan’s style. She heard thumping from outside the room, and she paused.

  Maybe Ethan was trying to get free. She’d attached the chain to a loose plank on purpose, so that he could feel like he was accomplishing something. She’d learned from the past. Her victims had to feel like they were moving forward. They had to have a goal. They had to maintain hope. Otherwise, they didn’t make fit companions for her. They became listless and slept all day. They stared at nothing when they were awake and made her feel l
ike she was taking care of Pet Rocks. There was nothing appealing about a Pet Rock.

  Just look at the last person who’d lived in the room before Kan.

  Thud. Crash. Clonk. It sounded like a construction site out there. Didn’t matter. Even if Ethan had gotten himself free, he wouldn’t go far. Every exit in the cabin was locked from the inside, and the only key hung around Shelly’s neck.

  She closed her hand around the jagged BFF necklace. Like she would’ve given somebody half of her heart. As she had learned, and as Kan had confirmed, she couldn’t trust anyone in this world. Not even her so-called sister.

  She’d had high hopes for Ethan. And even higher hopes for Kan. But so far, they were disappointing her just like everyone else. She was willing to give it one more shot, but they’d better shape up, fast.

  Otherwise, she’d have to kill them both.

  Chapter 47

  After Ethan leaves, I have an idea. I’ve searched the five-foot radius around the spot where my hand is cuffed to the bed. But there’s one place I haven’t looked: under the floor. If Ethan can pry up planks of wood, then so can I.

  Hanging my torso over the side of the bed, I stick my nails into the grooves between the hardwood and pull up as hard as I can. OW. Bad move. Two of my nails break off, and I lift my fingers to my mouth, sucking off the blood. Smooth, Kan. Next time, make sure it’s loose before you pull.

  Slower this time, and more deliberately, I check all the planks. They might as well be concrete. Except one. Of course, this plank is all the way under the bed, where I can barely reach. But it’s loose. I exert some pressure, and the board slides a fraction of an inch. Definitely loose.

  I run my nails around the entire plank. I push and pull and prod. I break my other three nails. But after twenty minutes of achy, sweaty work—made more difficult because I can’t actually see what I’m doing—I manage to get the board off.

  I stick my hand inside the hole, and I brush against an object. Several objects.

  My mouth falls open. This was a long shot. I didn’t actually expect to find anything. But here it is, an entire treasure trove. One by one, I pull the items out. A red plastic pot. A roll of toilet paper. Twelve bottles of water. Six peanut butter chocolate chip granola bars. A toothbrush. Toothpaste.

  I look at the items. And look at them again. I don’t get it. What the hell are they doing under the floor? Together, they comprise a prisoner survival kit. I can pee in the chamber pot, if that’s what it is. I won’t starve or become dehydrated—at least not yet.

  But it’s more than that. These items are specific to me. Peanut butter chocolate chip is my favorite flavor of granola bar. Shelly knows that. It’s like she left this kit for me to find. But why? Why not just give me these items when she locked me to the bed? Why make it so hard?

  Weird. Really weird.

  I look at the granola bar longingly. I’m tempted to tear into the food, but I’ve only been here a few hours. Who knows how much longer she’ll keep me? Better to wait until I’m really desperate.

  My eyes drift to the desk with its column of drawers. If these items were under the floor, maybe there are other things hidden around the drawers.

  Sure enough, I find a mirror behind the bottom drawer. A small compact, wedged behind the wood and the railing. It could’ve fallen back there somehow—or maybe Shelly left it there for me to find.

  However it got there, I’m not about to waste a potential weapon.

  I glance at the closed door. I haven’t heard any noise for a long time. What are they doing out there? Has Ethan gotten the necklace yet?

  I breathe out slowly. My insides are all chewed up with worry, but I can’t let that feeling overwhelm me. Not if I want to get us out of here.

  Saying a silent prayer for Ethan’s safety, I slam the compact on the ground. I hear the sound of glass breaking. Please, oh, please, let one of those pieces be big enough for a weapon.

  I open the compact and pick among the shards. Thank goodness, there are a couple of slivers that might actually do some damage.

  I put one in the pocket of my shirt, where it hopefully won’t jab me, and hold the other one in my fist, trying not to grip too tightly. But it cuts me anyway, and a trickle of blood flows down my hand.

  I’ve never been in a fight in my life, and I certainly haven’t raised a hand against my elders. That’s not what a good Thai girl does.

  But a good Thai girl wouldn’t roll over and die, either. In this situation, if her life depended on it, I think a good Thai girl would do whatever the hell it took to survive. To win. And I think Khun Yai would wholeheartedly approve.

  The next time Shelly comes through that door, I’ll be ready.

  Chapter 48

  Shelly had lingered long enough.

  She’d decided Kan’s advice wasn’t so useless after all. She changed into the lingerie she’d bought with Ethan in mind—a black mesh and lace bustier with matching panties, a garter belt, and thigh-high stockings. She put a flimsy, sheer robe over the whole ensemble, and her BFF necklace hung down her neck, right into the cleavage that the bustier created. She looked good. Really good, especially if you didn’t notice the scar on her face. But with this outfit, who would look at her face, anyway?

  When she’d tried on the lingerie at the store, she’d felt like a vision. All she’d had to do was flash a bit of lace and a lot of cleavage to Walt Peterson, and he would’ve left his football buddies to follow her anywhere. She’d been sure a similar outfit would work on Ethan, too.

  But now, as she looked at herself in the mirror, she gnawed her lip. Would Ethan laugh at her? Maybe he would smirk and turn away. Maybe he would pity her for trying too hard, or worse, feel disgusted at the sight of her body, which was too bony in some places and too fleshy in others. Some girls were born to be sexy, and some girls just . . . weren’t.

  She’d been a weren’t all of her life. And she didn’t want to be one anymore. It was time for her to stop feeling so scared. Time to stop being so helpless. She had to take action; she had to take a risk. Nothing would change unless she did.

  Besides, if he laughed at her, she could always tase him.

  The thought made Shelly feel better. It shifted the power back into her hands, and she felt in control again. She picked up the Taser, pulled back her shoulders, and glided into the den.

  Ethan was already there, facing the fire.

  Her heart swelled. He’d built a fire. And she hadn’t even asked. Instead, he’d found the equipment she left by the hearth—the logs, the fire-starter bricks, the matches—and started an inferno of his own volition.

  This was more like it. This was the guy she wanted him to be. Considerate, not because she ordered him, but because he chose to be.

  The flame outlined his silhouette, and he stood on top of the bear rug. The fur was a little ratty, not as luxurious and soft as she’d imagined, but it would caress her naked skin just the same.

  A plank of wood lay on the floor, next to the coiled-up chain that was still attached to his wrist. No problem. She could take his clothes off around the cuff.

  Clutching the Taser, she walked further into the room. The floor squeaked, and he turned. The moment he saw her, his mouth dropped. His eyes widened, and his breathing became labored.

  Oh, my. The outfit was working, after all.

  Spreading her arms out, she twirled slowly in front of him, giving him an unobstructed view of her body. His eyes feasted on her. Gone were her insecurities, her qualms. She’d never felt more beautiful in her entire life.

  “Well? What do you think?” God, was that her voice? Since when did she sound so husky?

  “I don’t know why we ate dinner,” he said, his voice low, “when everything I’m hungry for is right in front of me.”

  She paused. She wanted to believe his words. More than anything, she wanted to look into his eyes and see that he was sincere. But he’d been more than a little reluctant at dinner. She needed more convincing.

  And so,
instead of falling into his arms, she arched an eyebrow. “That’s not how you were acting earlier.”

  “You weren’t wearing this outfit earlier.” In three strides, he crossed the room and caught her up in his arms. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and his eyes fastened onto her cleavage.

  Oh god. She was so hot—in so many ways. The sweat dripped down her neck, and she felt like candle wax in his embrace. She didn’t know it could feel this good to be held. She didn’t know it would feel even better to have him devour her with his eyes.

  “So you’re into me now?” she said demurely.

  He ripped his gaze from her chest and looked straight into her eyes. “I’ve always been into you, Shelly. Since that amazing, unforgettable night we spent texting. I might not have known it was you at first, but now that I do, you’re all I can think about.” He tightened his hold around her. “But I couldn’t show you my true feelings in front of Kan. Can you understand that? I had to pretend I was being forced to spend time with you. If she knew the truth, she’d be devastated. She’s got so much going on right now. Ash dead. Khun Yai in the hospital. What’s happened with you. I don’t know if she can handle one more thing.”

  He lifted his hand and traced a finger down her cheek. The chain rattled beside them. “I’m not going to lie. I care about her. But you’re the one who’s captivated me. You waltz in here, wearing an outfit like that. And Kan’s nowhere in sight. How do you expect me to react?”

  Her knees, her ankles, her thighs were weak. If he weren’t holding her up, she would have melted into a puddle, right there on the bear rug. She wanted to believe. He was looking into her eyes, and he was so cute, so sincere, so earnest.

  Yet, she hesitated.

  He leaned forward, and gently, so gently, he closed his mouth around her lower lip, tugging softly. Her eyes fluttered closed, and then his mouth eased over hers in the most wonderful kiss she’d ever known.

  This. This was beyond her wildest dreams. This was what she had been searching for her entire life. To feel precious. To feel loved. To feel like she was the most important person on earth to somebody else.

 

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