Painter’s Pants said, “She’s talking truth to you, Beth. I mean, you can see that with your own damn eyes, gal. Hell, I bet she’s like ex-military or something with all that damn ninja training.”
Cain said, “So, Beth, go get my money, all of it, and bring it here to me. And I won’t call the cops. Not because I don’t want to see you and Ken go to jail, but because I don’t want to waste time filling out the paperwork. I have better things to do.”
Beth stood there for a moment, wavering. Then she ran back to the office and came back with the money. She handed it over to Cain, who counted and then pocketed it.
Cain went to her room, grabbed her things, and met Rosa outside. She had put on jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt and carried a small duffel.
They drove off while everyone else stared at the unmoving pile of Ken.
CHAPTER
20
CAIN GOT ROSA INTO A WOMEN’S shelter that Cain had used when she had first come to town. She pressed a hundred dollars into Rosa’s hands and said, “Don’t ever go back to that guy. He will kill you, okay? The dude’s just bad.”
“I swear I won’t. And . . . thank you.”
Cain said nothing in reply because she wanted no thanks, from Rosa or anyone else. She just wanted to be left alone and wondered why she kept inserting herself into other people’s troubles. Maybe because no one had done that for her, and she understood quite clearly the catastrophic results of looking the other way.
She decided to splurge a bit and checked in at a local Marriott using her credit card. Cain took her things up to her room on the fourth floor and closed the door behind her. She took a long shower with actual hot water, letting it soak into her and using all of the complimentary toiletries the bathroom had to offer. It took her only a few seconds to dry her hair. She put on a clean pair of jeans, to replace the pair dirtied from the fight, with a white T-shirt and a loose-fitting straw-colored sweater over that.
After that Cain sat on her bed and stared at the floor. The day was not yet over and she had covered a lot of ground, from being thrown out of her lodgings, to having to vacate her next home, to arriving here. She didn’t have to work as a security guard tonight, and tomorrow was payday for the forklift job. She would get her check and cash it, and put the money with her other money.
She lay back on the bed and used her phone to once more access the notice from the FBI. She brought up the image of herself on the screen: wild-eyed and long haired and both thrilled and terrified at her sudden liberation after all those years. She put the phone against her chest, closed her eyes, and conjured up that final night with the Atkinses.
She had run toward the house, not because she wanted any sort of revenge, but because she knew that was where the road out of this nightmare was. She knew she had limited time because of the camera outside the door. Joe Atkins had told her time and again that I’m always watching you, Becky, always. Don’t you even think about trying to get away, you hear me, girl?
When she had first gone to the Atkinses to live, it had been with Len and Wanda. But that had been for only a few days. They had treated her all right, but then she had gone to live at Joe and Desiree’s place. And that was when her ordeal began, although it had not started that way. At first they had been somewhat kind to her; however, everything about her life before that was garbled, like the bad connection on a phone. She knew she had been taken from somewhere by the man. That her real parents had wanted her dead for some inexplicable reason, at least that was what he had told her. Now she didn’t have strong enough memories of her previous life to know whether this was true or not.
However, the day had come when the Atkinses’ behavior toward her had changed. Well, it had been Desiree, really. Joe had mostly worked outside the home, so it was just her and Desiree. They never had any visitors except, occasionally, Len and Wanda.
It was small things at first, bouts of sharp, inexplicable anger, the taking away of privileges, time-outs that turned into verbal and then physical abuse. When she was around eight, Desiree started playing what Cain now knew to be mind games with her. Planting things in her young head that would have been warnings to someone older and more mature. At first, Joe had defended her, but he’d never really forced Desiree to change her ways.
Don’t hit her that hard, Desiree, he would say. Feed her more than that, that’s not enough for a cat. Put her in better clothes, Desiree, what’s the matter with you? But then, Joe’s attitude changed too. Cain thought it was Desiree’s doing because Joe would storm into her room and say, I know what you’ve been doing, Becky. I know! And you’re not going to get away with it. One day he had come in and said, You are never to bite my wife again. And then he’d belted her in the face. Of course, Cain had never bitten Desiree, though she’d wanted to.
Then the time came when she went from the house to the prison cell carved into the side of the knoll. They had come into her room, woken her up, and said it was time for her to live in her new home. Cain thought they were giving her to another family, and she hoped and prayed they would be nicer, because now she was being beaten regularly, verbally terrified, worked to death, and fed hardly enough to keep her alive.
But that was not what had happened. As they dragged her into the woods, Cain was sure they were going to kill her and bury her body out there. She had screamed and tried to get away, but she couldn’t, and there was no one to hear her cries. They took her inside and Joe had used his flashlight to show her what was there. It was meager and dirty and cold, and Cain thought she could hear things scurrying around on the floor.
This is your new home, Becky, Desiree had said tauntingly. This is where you will sleep every night and where you will wake up every morning, unless you disobey me and are bad and then you will never wake up again.
At that point the young Cain was so panicked she couldn’t process what was happening. When they locked her in she pounded on the door, screaming for them to let her out, that she would be good from now on. Then she had heard Desiree’s voice coming from right against the other side of the wood: If you make any more noise, I will let the snakes inside with you. I see two right now who look very hungry. And they will bite you until you are dead. And then they will swallow you whole, Becky. Do you understand me? Do you hear them hissing? I will do it. You know that I will. They grow snakes big around here.