“Damn it,” I whispered and went into my bedroom. I flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking.
Well, it was September, so that meant I was a least going to be safe until November. I still had a few months to figure out a plan. There had to be a way to get out of here. Maybe he was lying about the sprinklers and stuff. I tried looking harder at the ceiling to see if I could find any evidence of hidden sprinklers. It was pretty far up, but nothing I could see indicated there were any up there.
Oh well. I’d just burn myself alive if I tried lighting the place up. I hated being trapped. I jumped up and tore the dress off my body. I wanted to get clean. I really hoped there weren’t any cameras in the bathroom, even though I knew chances on that were slim.
I stuck the dress into the trashcan and turned the water on in the shower. I let it run for a few minutes and then stepped underneath. The water was hotter than I expected, but the sting on my skin felt good, because it was washing away dirt and grime, the filth of the evening.
I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, letting the water rush down over my face and shoulders, down my hair and back. I breathed in deeply through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. I wished for the Hunters—for my family—most of all, for my mother.
I opened my eyes and reached for the towel hanging over the door. I wiped the water out of my eyes before they could begin to sting and pulled the towel away.
When I opened my eyes, Sostrate was there, in the shower with me.
“Ah!” I Screamed. “What are you doing here?” I tried to cover myself with my hands. When that wasn’t sufficient I yanked the towel off the door and held it over myself.
“Shhh…” Sostrate held her finger to her lips. “This is the only safe place to speak with you.”
Her face and body were surrounded with steam, but I could see she wore the same crude leather over the only areas that needed to be covered. Her beautiful dark hair was loose and flowing. The water didn’t seem to touch her body at all.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“Do you not need me?”
“Of course I need you! I need to get out of this house. I need to get back home before my own father kills me.”
“There isn’t much time,” she leaned in to whisper to me. “This place is the only place you will not be seen.”
“Great,” I muttered.
“Chloe, on the other side of this wall is the outside.” She touched the wall above the faucet. “You can escape.”
I think she forgot that the wall was completely tiled over. “Sostrate, this is a shower wall. Those tiles are grouted in there.” Even as I spoke, I realized what she was telling me.
“You can do this.” She told me in a whisper, and then she shimmered and faded into the steam.
Quickly, I moved to her side of the shower and inspected the wall. It was the only part of the walls in the whole suite that wasn’t covered with steel. The tiles were small, blue squares, sealed in with grout. I’d once seen my mother re-tile the back splash in our kitchen.
She was right. I could do this.
I washed my hair as fast as I could and scrubbed the grime off my body. After I turned the shower off I wrapped myself in the wet towel and sped over to the shelf where the dry towels were. I wanted as little naked time in front of the cameras as possible.
I finally wrapped the dry towel around myself and threw the wet one into the shower. Then, I opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and searched around. I needed something for my puncture wound on my thigh. The bottle of peroxide was hidden behind the bandages. I grabbed both and sat on the toilet to pour the peroxide onto the wound. Afterward I covered it with the bandage and hoped it would heal itself like my finger did that time.
Back out in my bedroom, I shrugged into my sweats and began to plan. It looked like I was going to be spending a lot of time in the shower.
I smelled breakfast before I even opened my eyes. The scent invaded my dreams, forcing my eyes to open so that I could go and discover what was causing that delicious smell. As soon as I opened my eyes, I rolled onto my back and stretched, and then immediately regretted it because every part of me ached at the slightest move.
Wonderful.
I peeled back the blankets and sat up with my feet hanging over the bed. If it wasn’t for hunger, I would have just laid in bed all day, sulking.
After about five minutes of sitting there, I finally got up and shuffled into the bathroom. I peed as quickly as I could. I wasn’t sure if there were cameras aimed at me, and the last thing in the world I wanted was people seeing me pee. After that, I opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of over the counter pain reliever I’d seen the night before.
I poured two into my hand. After a few seconds of contemplation, I added another one in the hope they would kick in quickly. I closed the lid on the toilet and sat so I could gently pull the bandage off the wound on my thigh. As I suspected, nothing was there. The only evidence of the injury was a thin, white, misshapen scar.
Well, at least that was one less thing to worry about.
After tossing the used bandage into the waste basket, I wandered back into the sitting room and found the breakfast that had smelled so good consisted of hash browns; eggs, over easy; sausage links, and toast.
It surprised me he was feeding me so well, although I knew Alice had most of the say in what was done in the kitchen. I kind of figured I might be made to eat bread and water for the next several months.
Alice was damned lucky I hadn’t been awake when she brought the cart up though. I still wanted to finish things with her.
While I ate, I tried to ignore the fact I watched by cameras. I also suspected there were far more vampires in the house now that I wasn’t allowed to roam about.
Crap.
When I finished eating, I put my napkin on top of my plate and turned to get up. Intentionally, but making it look like an accident, I brushed all of my silverware and the half full glass of orange juice onto the floor.
“Dang it!” I muttered loudly. “Just great.”
I grabbed the napkin off of my plate and got down on my hands and knees. I wasn’t really sure where exactly the cameras were, but I had to take a chance.
Using the napkin, I scrubbed away at the juice and discreetly placed my knee over the butter knife. After scrubbing it sufficiently I leaned over just a tad and used the napkin to wrap the silverware, except the butter knife, which I quickly slid into my boot.
I crawled backward and stood. I set the bundle and glass on the table, making some annoyed noises for the show, even though I was actually triumphant.
With the intention of killing some time and making it look like I was just bored, I wandered over to the couch and flopped onto it, stretching out with my feet up. I turned on the TV and flipped through the channels, trying to find something interesting. I stopped at “Blade.” I’d forgotten about him. He was supposed to be a vampire hunter too, and like me, was half vampire.
Interesting. At least there was something besides reality shows to watch while I waited. I never could understand how people could watch those. Like real life didn’t have enough drama, people wanted to go watch someone else’s on TV.
I let my mind go a bit numb and was deep into watching Blade kick ass, when the door locks released.
I looked over and watched a tall male vampire slip inside the door, head straight to the breakfast table without even glancing my way, and cleared the used dishes onto the cart.
“Hey!” I hollered at him.
Obviously, he knew I was there, because he glanced over and nodded at me.
“I just came in to get the cart,” he told me.
“Well, have fun being Trevor’s little maid,” I said to him, turning back to Blade.
He didn’t bother responding; he hurried back to the door and rapped on it.
“It’s me,” he called out to whoever was on the other side. The locks released, and he wheeled the cart
through the open door, and then quickly shut it. Again, the locks slid back into place, the sound confirming my imprisonment.
After Blade was over, I got up and messed around with the stuff on my desk for a while, organizing and straightening. When I thought enough time had passed, I grabbed a book off the shelf and went into the bathroom.
I slid open the door on the tub and set my book down on the ledge, started the water and flipped the stopper. I bent and tested the temperature of the water and then looked around for bubble bath, when I found some vanilla scented bubbles, I dumped an ungodly amount underneath the stream of water and watched the bubbles begin to form.
While the tub filled, I put my hair way up on top of my head in a big bun. I backtracked into my bedroom to the closet. With every ounce of my being, I hoped the closet didn’t have a camera inside. I opened the door and stepped inside. I bent over to take off my boots. Discreetly, I slid my hand down into my boot, like I was trying get the boot off my foot, and palmed the butter knife. I stood and slid the butter knife beneath the waistband of my pants and underwear. It fitted snugly against my skin. At the same time, I lifted my left hand and sifted through the hanging clothes for a shirt. Feeling certain the knife was safely hidden, I ripped a shirt off a hanger without really looking at it and backed out of the closet.
Back in the bathroom, I checked the tub. Seeing it was full and almost overflowing with vanilla bubbles, I shut off the water and grabbed a fluffy white towel. I hated the fact that there were cameras in the bathroom. I knew I was taking it for granted Oscar's comment about being videotaped was true, but I couldn’t take a chance, because it was more likely than not.
First, I took off my shirt and wrapped the towel completely around my body. Only then did I remove my pants. I had to be really careful while I was taking them off. Luckily, it probably looked to whoever was watching like I was just sore from the escape attempt the night before. I wiggled gently out of them, holding the towel closed around my private areas.
It also occurred to me I wasn’t supposed to know that there were cameras. Realistically, it wouldn’t matter if Oscar had told me or not. Trevor knew I was smart enough to know he’d been watching me outside with cameras, so it wouldn’t be strange for me to assume cameras would be installed in my rooms. He managed to lock me inside a metal prison. Why not watch what I’m up to as well?
After getting in the tub, I shut the door and quickly removed the towel and put the knife underneath the water, on the floor of the tub. I hung the towel over the top of the door. Finally, I could strip off my bra and panties. I opened the door a crack and let them fall to the floor.
Whew. The hardest part was over. Only then did I realize my heart was beating wildly in my chest. I released a huge amount of air I’d been unintentionally holding inside and exhaled while I sank into the near-scalding water. The bubbles rose and surrounded me like I was sitting on a cloud. As hot as the water was, it felt amazing on my aching muscles, and I let my eyes closed for just a moment.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to savor it. It was time to get to work.
I felt around on the bottom of the tub until my fingers closed around the knife. I scooted as close as I could to the wall above the faucet. The tiles were about three and a half, maybe four inch, squares.
Grasping the knife in my hand, I raised it up and scraped at the grout separating each square. I scraped and dug until finally I was able to pry one square off the wall. Chunks of grout and dust particles drifted down, settling on top of the bubbles. It was messy, but it was done. Relieved and tired from the stress, I laid back and opened the door a crack to look at the clock. It had been twenty-five minutes.
Man, I really, really wanted to get more done than that. But, I knew if I was in the bathtub too long that Trevor would start to get suspicious. So, reluctantly, I flipped the plug and let the water drain. I set the knife and the tile on the side of the tub underneath the faucet, then stood and wrapped myself in the towel again.
It took two weeks before I was able to take enough tiles off the wall that a hole big enough for me to fit through appeared. After the tiles were off, there was a huge pile of them sitting in the tub.
I was actually surprised Trevor hadn’t sent anyone in to clean the bathtub yet. Normally Alice did it once a week, but now I hadn’t seen her at all. I think Trevor was afraid I was going to kill her. Part of me wanted to, that was for sure.
Maybe he figured since I was in here with nothing else to do, I could clean my own bathroom. I probably should pretty soon, just so the cameras could see that it was being cleaned and no one needed to come in and do it.
As a matter of fact, I hadn’t seen Trevor either. The only one I saw was that tall vamp who had come the first morning I’d been locked up. He collected the cart, the dishes and my dirty laundry. He also brought me anything I requested or that was sent up to me. I didn’t really care. I didn’t want to see any of them anyway.
Except Oscar. He had promised he would help me get out. What a liar. I shouldn’t have expected anything from him, really. He was just another of Trevor’s goons now, as far as I was concerned.
After I got all the tiles off, I dug at the wall underneath. It was actually harder than doing the tiles and that took another two weeks. I left the thinnest part of the outer wall where the plastic siding covered it. I was going to have to push the pieces of siding out so I could slip underneath them. That would come when it was time. There was one last thing I needed to do before I could escape… I needed to make a rope.
For three days more I plotted when I would make my escape and managed to tie several of my garments from the closet together, forming a crude, makeshift rope. Hopefully it would hold until I was safely on the ground.
When the day of my escape attempt arrived, I woke, just like every day, to the smell of breakfast. I wandered out to the table and found biscuits and gravy waiting for me. How strange. Biscuits and gravy was my favorite breakfast meal of all time, and I just found it a little ironic it was being served on the day I was trying to escape.
I ate it like I was never going to eat again.
After I had practically licked my plate clean, I set my fork down then picked up my coffee and took a big swig. Hoping it looked like an accident, I spilled a whole bunch on the front of my shirt. “Ugh! Man… just figures.”
I really, really hoped I sounded annoyed enough that my shirt was stained, because I wasn’t annoyed at all. I wasn’t even scared; I was excited.
Taking my shirt off on the way, I went to the closet and threw the dirty one in the hamper that I’d stuffed the clothes rope into. I grabbed another shirt off a hanger and put it on.
Phase one... accomplished.
I lay down on the couch with a book and tried to concentrate on reading until Mr. No Name Vamp came to get the cart. He never spoke unless I spoke directly to him, and he had to answer me. I let him come and go in silence; I preferred that anyway. He probably did too, all things considered.
Once he was gone, I went back to my book for a while. After a while, I stood and stretched. I then changed my clothes, making sure to put on my running shoes. After that, I looked around as if I were considering what to do next. Pretending the decision was made randomly, I went to the closet, retrieved my laundry basket and hauled the whole thing into the bathroom. I set it next to the tub and slid the door open. I stood in front of the opening to the shower door and snatched my shirt of the top of the basket and examined the coffee stain for a minute, showing the cameras what I planned to do.
It was time to just go for it. I dumped the entire basket into the tub and hoped whoever was watching—if they were watching—wouldn’t question why I just threw a bunch of dirty laundry in the bathtub. One thing I was positive of was that they would never guess there was a Chloe-sized hole in the wall and I was about to slide through it and hang from a homemade clothes rope from the second story of the house.
Nope, they would never guess. I felt victorious already.
&n
bsp; As quickly as I could, I got into the shower and shut the door. I tied one end of the clothes rope into a loop, securing the knot by tugging it as tight as possible.
I took a deep breath. “I can do this,” I whispered and then hung the loop on the faucet. I was worried about going out feet first, because I didn’t want anyone to see me before I could see them, but I had no other choice. I dumped the entire clothes rope through the hole, letting it fall all the way down. I stuck one leg through and followed with the other, sliding myself underneath the siding and wiggling my body out of the hole. Finally, I was hanging all the way down with my hands still gripping the hole and my head still underneath the siding.
The fresh air hit me. I hadn’t smelled the outside for so long! It was amazing. I breathed in deeply through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. The daylight was another story. The fall sunshine felt like daggers in my eyes. I hadn’t seen actual sunlight in over a month. As for the air, I couldn’t get over how wonderful it smelled and tasted. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to hang around breathing air. I needed to get moving. It was time to grab the rope and climb down.
Slowly, I forced my fingers to release their death grip on the edges of the hole and grabbed the rope with one hand, then the other. Finally, I was within feet of my freedom.
My feet flailed for a minute until they found the wall and I was able to start slow walking down, holding tight to the top of the clothes rope. It was a darned good thing I’d kept to working out, even after I got locked in, or else I wouldn’t have had the strength to hold on. It was slow going, a lot slower than I would have liked. I had only gone about four feet when the rope suddenly dropped about three inches, causing me to almost lose my grip, I did lose my footing.
I swung back and forth, trying to catch the wall and steady myself. Not much luck. When I finally slowed enough to get my feet up against the wall again, the unthinkable happened, something I didn’t think over or anticipate: The faucet came loose, freeing my homemade clothes rope from its safety.
The Vampire Hunter's Daughter: Complete Collection Page 16
