Slipping off the metal bed, I stood legs wobbly and shaky as they touched the concrete floor. I knew in the pit of my stomach that there was no feasible way out of this chamber of terror, but I had to try. Even for just that teeny, tiny sliver of a chance that maybe someone screwed up and I could escape.
Running my hands along the block walls for stability (I thought I might pass out again) and also to check for anything out of the ordinary. Like I knew what that would be. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t Agent Hotchner or Houdini. This wasn’t a video game. There was no restart. There was no do over. And I wasn’t an escape artist.
As far as I was concerned, this place was Fort Knox.
I pressed my palm against the frigid bars of my cell dejected, hands shaking. The distance between Chase and I had never felt so vast or dire. The aching in my chest started, telling me we’d been apart too long. It would only increase in tenfolds.
Gripping the bars with both hands, every muscle locked up. I felt claustrophobic and knew I had to get out of this room. I don’t know what came over me. One minute I was shaking from head-to-toe, the next I was rattling the bars and screaming at the top of my lungs.
All for nothing, except my throat was on fire, scorched and dry. I swear I swallowed blood. There hadn’t been a peep, not a single movement from anywhere in the vicinity. It made me wonder if I was in a padded room.
Just fan-freaking-tastic.
When it became obvious that no one was coming, I began to pace, which was quite difficult. There wasn’t much space and I ended more or less shuffling in place. Finally, I retreated to the bed with nothing else to do. Staring at the white walls, I figured I would go insane in a day. The least they could have done was giving me an Xbox, hell I would have even taken a Gameboy at this rate. Anything,
Pulling the quilt around me like a cape, I prepared myself for what would no doubt be the longest night of my life. The stark darkness of the evening filled the tiny room, except for the sliver of light from under the door.
The smell of the woods still lingered on my skin and painfully made me think of Chase. My chest ached in brutal pain, heavy with sorrow, fear, and missing Chase. I wished I could have seen the moon, the stars, knowing that he was out there under the same sky, frantic with worry for me. In a small way, it would have given me comfort, but in a windowless room, I had nothing but memories.
Curled on the small bed, I couldn’t hold the tears a bay any longer. The floodgates opened like the breaking of a dam. Fat tears spilled down my cheeks, soaking the pillow. But once I started, I couldn’t stop. My shoulders shook in time with my loud blubbering. An unflattering sob snuck out from my mouth and I sniffled disgustingly. Not only were my cheeks streaked with red-hot tears, snot was dripping from my nose.
On and on it went until there wasn’t an ounce of fluid let in me, just those clenching dry heaves that were doing a number on my tummy.
When the hiccupping sobs stopped, a deep ache settled into my belly and muscles. I clamped my mouth shut until my teeth throbbed, refusing to shed another tear for these assholes. Then out of the dark, I heard the unmistakable sound of keys.
Someone was unlocking my chamber.
Chapter 22
I watched in blunt fear as the lock on the heavy armored door turned and clicked. The unknown of whom or what was behind the door ate away my backbone. I had the urge to hide my head under the pillow, plug my ears, and hum a lullaby to myself. Anything to pretend this was all just a very bad and vivid dream.
Except this nightmare was the real deal.
A burst of light broke through the darkened room at the same time the metal door scraped over the concrete floor. Blinking several times, I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible in the corner of the bed.
It was pointless.
The bed took up most of the small space, and I was hard to ignore in my white long-sleeve shirt. It practically glowed in the dark for heaven’s sake. As my eyes adjusted, a profile of a woman began to take shape.
I expected to see the nasty Emma but the face that became clear was similar to Emma’s, older. There was a strong resemblance, different hair color. Hers was a pale blonde compared to Emma’s. But the eyes, there were unmistakably Emma’s. As green as summer grass, but they lacked Emma’s cynic nature. She looked so darn familiar, but I couldn’t place her face with a name. The woman was thin and had a soft, gentle smile on her lips, so opposite of Emma’s hardass persona. It felt false and out of place considering the circumstances. She carried a tray of food that made my stomach lurch.
Hello, I’m a prisoner, my mind screamed. This wasn’t an extended vacation, and I hadn’t ordered room service.
There was nothing to possibly smile about. I wanted this woman to cut the bullshit and not give me any pitied smiles. It hit me then, why she looked so familiar to me. I’d seen this woman once before, outside the tiny dance studio in town. She had been with a little girl and her husband.