Trapped

by Sally Mason

  His face twists like he was just punched in his stomach. “Don’t you think I know that?” He tears the lid off the kettle with a sigh, filling it with fresh water.

  I rest my chin on my knees, my glare stalking him as he walks over to the stove to heat the water. “I hope you feel like crap.”

  He slams the kettle down. “I already apologized to you a thousand times, so what more do you want?” His eyes have turned three shades darker, the vein on his forehead pulsing on his skull. With his outstretched finger, he points at the bathroom door. “I could’ve never saved her. If it didn’t happen today, it would’ve been tomorrow or the next day. Napoleon never intended to spare her. It was just a game for him to see how far you were willing to go.”

  My jaw drops. “So it was never about me then? He wanted Hallie from the start.”

  Jed shakes his head. “No, it was about you alright. Napoleon is obsessed with you, always has been, but he likes the old Kelsey. The one who screamed and tried to fight him. He called you a wildcat he wanted to tame, but then you turned into this sulky girl who lost all her fire. That’s when he brought me back to Stonehenge to help him shake things up a little.”

  The pieces finally fall into place. Napoleon’s plan for me to fight back after Jed returned to my life backfired when I once again assumed the victim rule and mutilated myself to a point where I was admitted to the hospital. Then he probed and tortured me until I finally bared my fangs. Yet Hallie’s virginity was the cherry on top—the one thing he couldn’t resist. He’s a despicable excuse of a human being and the mere thought that I actually know him sends chills down my spine.

  Jed opens a cabinet and tosses a medicine bottle my way. “Take two and break them into powder. There’s a butter knife in the sink you can use.”

  I look at the pack, but it’s not labeled. “What are they?”

  “Sleeping pills. I’ll mix them with Hallie’s tea. It will help her sleep and forget.”

  He really has no clue how rape works. The nightmares will still haunt her, even if she takes a whole bottle of that stuff. Since I don’t feel like arguing with him, I take the knife out of the sink, my thumb testing the blade to ascertain whether it could be used as a weapon. It’s duller than my fingernail.

  I pour the tablets in my hand and let two of them roll onto the counter when an idea strikes. My eyes dart to Jed who is busy adding sugar to Hallie’s tea. Two more pills disappear in the pocket of my bathrobe. With vigor, I begin to beat on the tablets on the counter with the handle of the knife until they turn into a fine powder. I catch the medicine with my open hand to add to Hallie’s tea.

  “Can Hallie stay with me tonight?” I ask Jed while he stirs the tea.

  “I guess that’s the least I can do.”

  I get on my tiptoes and brush a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

  His eyebrows quirk. “What was that for? I thought you wanted to kill me.”

  “You explained to me how Napoleon ticks and there is no way you could’ve prevented Hallie from being raped. It’s just something I have to accept.”

  There is huge relief on his face when I take the tea out of his hand. He is totally oblivious that I’m only stringing him along, already planning my next escape. Once he gets a literal taste of his own medicine, I can get the keys, Hallie, and Maisie, and then it will be “hasta la vista, baby”— until the cops arrest his ass.

  Back in the bathroom, I help Hallie out of the tub and wrap her in a large fluffy towel. Her skin is reddened from all the scrubbing, but I know she still feels dirty and cheap. Her right eye is almost swollen shut and she has a fat lip, though the bleeding has stopped.

  I run a brush through her hair. Her eyes are a little bit more alert. She hisses when her curls get entangled and I have to pull hard. After a few minutes, all the knots are out. I give her a cold cloth for her eye.

  “Tell Jed you liked the tea,” I say, pouring the contents of the cup into the sink. “Then yawn and claim you’re sleepy.”

  She considers me with big eyes, then nods. With her gaze glued to the floor, she toddles behind me into the kitchen.

  I set the empty cup into the sink.

  “Was the tea okay?” Jed asked, giving Hallie a good once-over.

  She stands frozen by the counter and stares at him, her lips trembling. Fresh tears pool in her eyes—she is about to lose it.

  I quickly intervene before she gets us both into a sticky situation. “I’ll take Hallie to bed now.” I glance at the cup. “Could you maybe make me some tea as well?”

  He beams at me. “Sure, honeybun.”

  Guiding Hallie by her shoulders toward the bedroom, she takes automatic steps forward. When we get to our destination, I rummage for sweats and a long-sleeved shirt, setting a pair of woolly socks aside.

  “Put these on and get into bed. Pretend to sleep until I get you.”

  Like a well-trained dog, she obliges my every command. When she is securely tucked into bed, I return into the kitchen after switching off the lights. I can just hope she stays put or this could ruin my plan.

  The kettle is just boiling and Jed pours the hot water into a fresh cup. The scent of mint fills the kitchen, making my stomach rumble. Since breakfast, I haven’t eaten anything, my guts too knotted in anticipation of Napoleon’s visit. My nerves are still shot, but my body demands fuel. I grab an apple from the fruit bowl, taking a big bite. “Aren’t you going to have tea?”

  Jed takes out the whiskey bottle and a tumbler. “I need something stronger. It was a rough night for me, too.”

  I almost shed tears—both of sarcasm and joy. The alcohol will work better with the sleeping pills and knock him out even quicker. Now I just need to find a way to distract him.

  On cue, Maisie raises her head and whimpers.

  “I think she needs to go to the bathroom.”

  Jed stretches. “I’ll take her. I need a smoke anyhow.”

  He takes the keys to the front door out of his pocket and clicks his tongue a few times to get her attention. Maisie jumps down from the chair and shakes herself, her ears flopping from side to side. She really is the cutest pup.

  Jed fumbles forever with the locks. My fingers drum on the counter and the ticking clock on the wall is driving me nuts, every fiber of my body on high alert. I will only have a few minutes. As soon as the door closes behind him, I spring into action, pulling the two sleeping pills from my pocket. The knife is no longer in the sink and I let out a small curse. Why are all the odds stacked against me tonight? My eyes dart around, trying to find anything that could be used to crush the tablets, but Jed has cleaned up and locked everything away.

  In the end, I go for the tumbler. With shaking hands, I pour the whiskey back into the bottle, spilling half of it before slamming the pills with the glass. The booming thump scares me half to death. I still, my ears pricked for any sound from the outside, but only the howling wind rattles angrily at the shutters.

  This won’t work. I have to somehow muffle the sound. My eyes find the towels on the rack. I grab one, laying it over the medicine. The sound of the banging glass is now hardly audible. I work quickly, my gaze fixed on the door. Jed could be back at any second.

  The pills are finally crushed and I sweep the powder into the glass. A good amount of whiskey is poured on top to make sure the taste is not noticeable. My hands fly while I wipe the remains of the powder and the spilled whiskey off the counter before tossing the towel into the laundry basket. With a small hop, I get back onto my bar stool—just in time.

  The door opens and Jed steps back in, his hair soaked. Maisie is in a similar condition, shaking herself and sending little water droplets flying.

  “It’s miserable out there,” Jed says. “The snow has turned into freezing rain. The rate it’s going, we’ll have a major ice storm tonight. I should get the generator ready just in case the power lines are knocked down.”

  An ice storm could seriously hamper our escape options. If we don’t take the van, we could freeze
to death from hypothermia, yet the roads will be treacherous. Black ice will cover them within minutes, especially in a rural place like Tacoma Lakes.

  I’m still tossing around different options in my mind when Jed brushes past me, his fingers briefly grazing my cheek. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, hoping the disgust won’t show on my face. He takes a good swallow from his whiskey before his face contorts into a grimace.

  “Yuk.” He sniffs the drink. “I think I didn’t rinse out the glass properly—this tastes like dish soap.”

  I drop my gaze when my cheeks begin to burn, cursing this new streak of bad luck. I never expected that his palate could pick up the taste of the pills that easily. To my horror, he pours the rest of the whiskey into the sink, the brown liquid twirling around the drain before disappearing into the pipe.

  “Jed.”

  His head snaps around to look at me.

  Somehow I need to keep his attention away from the sink. “I—I . . .” My mind is wiped of all thoughts—the only thing my brain registers is the residue of the powder which is clearly visible in the streaks of the whiskey that were left behind. If Jed notices them, he will immediately figure out that I tried to knock him out.

  “Could you . . .” I start again.

  A sweet smile plays on his lips. “Yes, honeybun?” He wiggles his brows, looking at me expectantly.

  I hold my breath—my mind totally failing me. There is not even a hint of a useful idea to hide my sabotage attempt. Disaster is approaching fast and will hit me with the force of a bulldozer.

  That’s when his gaze turns back to the sink.

  CHAPTER 22

  I haven’t experienced many moments where I felt that life was unfolding in slow motion right in front of my eyes, but this is one of those times. My gaze is fixed on Jed as his body swings around frame by frame, and at some point I squeeze my eyes shut, ready for the big blowout. I’m sure he will beat the crap out of me.

  A sharp buzz startles me and I almost fall off the barstool when I jump a few inches in the air before I manage to grab onto the counter at the last second. A soft melody drifts through the kitchen—the intro theme of a TV show that my mom and Roy always watch—and I gather it is the ringtone of Jed’s mobile. When I glance at him through hooded eyes, his back is turned once again to the sink. He holds up the phone to his ear.

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  The caller on the other end tells him something that causes a small frown to wrinkle on his forehead. “Is it really that bad?” He listens intently. “Well, let me go downstairs and check on the generator. I’m sure the power will be knocked out sometime tonight. Where are you?”

  He walks off and I am on my feet in an instant, dashing over to the sink. The water turns on with a small gurgle. I splatter it around with my hand until the whiskey and powder remains have vanished down the drain. When I’m done, I realize that my whole body is shaking. For good measures, I sprinkle water on my face to clear my humming head.

  “What ya doing, honeybun?”

  I spin around with another startle to find Jed leaning against the counter. If the night continues with these dodgy situations, I’ll have a heart attack by morning for sure.

  “Nothing.” My eyes fall on the tumbler. “I was just rinsing out your glass so you can fix yourself another drink.”

  He stretches. “That was Napoleon. The storm is so bad that he barely made it home. I really shouldn’t drink tonight in case the power goes out and I have to start the generator.” He winks at me. “The basement steps are rotten and dangerous, even when you’re sober. I’m sure you don’t want me to break my leg, or you’ll have to take care of me.”

  I would rather have him break his neck but keep that thought to myself. “I should go to bed. It’s getting late and Hallie might need someone to talk to when she wakes up.”

  He steps closer and pulls me into his arms. “You’re such a good friend to her.” His face nuzzles into my hair. “She’s really lucky to have you.”

  I go rigid when guilt washes over me—I blame myself for what happened to her. Though I know that I couldn’t have saved her, the way it all went down was just horrific.

  He pulls away and yawns into his hand. “I’m really tired, too. It was a stressful day for all of us.” He glances at Maisie in the chair. “Even the damn dog is out cold. She will probably pee in the house because of the storm. You should have seen her out there shivering earlier. I was scared she would shoot off the porch when she slipped on the ice.”

  This is likely the worst night for an escape, but probably our only chance before Napoleon is back for more terror. Jed’s pupils are dilated, so some of that sleeping aid must have gotten into his system. The window of opportunity is small but still worth the risk. Hallie could not go through the ordeal of being raped a second time without losing her mind—the hurt and distress was just too visible on her face.

  “Well, good night, Jed.”

  He blows a kiss on my cheek. “Good night, honeybun. Don’t let the bedbugs bite you.”

  That’s what my dad used to say before my parents got divorced—I was only three. I quickly wipe away a loose tear. Since my mom married Roy, I hardly see him, but we usually get together over the holidays. I wonder about his reaction to the whole “I need a break thing” and my disappearance. Knowing him, he probably bought it—he has never really been attuned with my feelings.

  Hallie is awake, staring at the ceiling, when I slide into bed. She lies perfectly still, taking even breaths like she’s hooked to a breathing machine. Her glassy eyes give me the creeps. Hopefully, she will be able to keep it together during the escape.

  I give it a good half hour during which we both lie in the darkness without a sound before I get up to check whether the coast is clear. Jed is curled up on the sofa under a thick patchwork quilt that looks ancient, Maisie resting in the folds above his feet. Her head rises as I approach. The echo of her whimper sounds magnified in the still house.

  To quiet her, I pat her head, which only causes her to start licking my hand. Her small body wiggles around on Jed’s legs. He stirs in his sleep, mumbling something. I quickly scoop up the puppy—she’s going to ruin everything if she wakes him up.

  Not sure what to do with the struggling dog, I take her to the bedroom and sit her down next to Hallie.

  “I really need you to focus now and keep an eye on Maisie. I know you’re hurting, but I’m trying to get us both out of here and I need your help.”

  Hallie seems to wake up from a deep slumber and a fire begins to burn in her eyes. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Get ready. It’s storming and freezing outside, so go through all the drawers and get everything imaginable to keep us warm. I’m going to get the keys and our coats and shoes.”

  “Why don’t you just get Jed’s phone and call the cops?”

  That idea was crushed when I saw his cell tonight. “I have no clue where we are other than Tacoma Lakes, which is a huge area. He uses a really old phone, something that was popular maybe ten years ago, and I’m sure it doesn’t have a tracking device. Even if they contact the network and do a search, it will be hours, if not days, before they find us. We can’t wait that long. Once we’re away from Jed, we’ll call them.”

  Hallie nods and jumps out of bed, fully on board with my plan. The first drawer is pulled out, its contents dumped on the floor, before she starts rummaging through the clothes. I turn toward the door to get Jed’s keys and phone.

  His head hangs off the couch and he is snoring with his mouth wide open. I tiptoe closer. Squatting down next to him, my hands wander under the blanket. He sneezes and grumbles, rolling on his right side, facing the backrest. One of his jeans’ pockets is now totally out of reach and I just pray that it’s not the one with the keys.

  I take a peek under the blanket to target the right area before my hand slides in his side pocket. My fingers hit a metallic object and I rejoice when my thumb runs over the edges of a key. Jed smacks his lips.
I freeze, ensuring that his breath is even before continuing. My fingertips slowly work the keys into my palm. Finally, I manage to pull them out. I rise hastily. A floorboard squeaks under my feet when I take a step forward.

  Jed wrinkles his nose, scratching it before blinking at me. “Honeybun, what is it?” His voice is thick from sleep—he is still in this half-asleep, half-awake stage.

  My heart pounds in the back of my throat as my mouth dries up. “I just came to get Maisie.” I give him my sweetest smile. “Go back to sleep.”

  He pulls the quilt closer around him and snuggles in. A minute later, he’s back to snoring. A silent sigh of relief rolls over my lips. That was close. Taking careful steps, I dance across the floor into the bedroom.

  Hallie is crumpled on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. I roll my eyes—we don’t have time for this. I’m about snap at her, but then stop myself. What am I thinking? This had been me just a few weeks ago and I, of all people, should understand that this is eating at her very substance. I have to cut her a break. Telling her that this is not the time to mourn is the wrong thing to do.

  I lower myself next to her and stroke her back. “What’s the matter?”

  In response, she lifts up a picture that has been lying face down on the floor. “I found this.”

  I take the photo and a cold chill runs down my spine. It’s a close up of my younger self, terror and incredible pain in my eyes. Jed must have taken it during the first abduction. His words that he and Napoleon were taping me rings in my ears. I wonder how many more photos and videos are hidden somewhere. They probably get off watching me scream; a sickening thought that pushes bile up my throat.

  “Why are they doing these things to us, Kelsey?” she asks with tears streaming down her face.

  “Because they’re sick bastards.” I squeeze her arm. “I know it’s hard right now, but we need to go. It’s the only way to punish them for what they did.”