Stay (24 page)

But he didn’t open the door. He stormed away. I stayed frozen in the same position, not daring to move. My chest began to hurt, and I realized that I was holding my breath. I slowly let it out.
Now what?
I couldn’t leave the closet, not yet at least.

With painstakingly slow movements, I repositioned my tingling feet. I didn’t want them to fall asleep and be useless if I got the chance to run. I flicked my eyes up to the ceiling. Someone was making their way through the house, slamming the door to each room they inspected.
 

“Adeline,” Nate’s voice cut into me. Terror rippled down my spine. My legs shook. “Come on out, deary.” His shoes echoed through the house as he walked down the stairs. “Come out now, and we can pretend this never happened.”

Yeah fucking right.
I wasn’t stupid. There was no way Nate would pretend this never happened. My fingers closed around a shoe. The leather was stiff and smooth. It wasn’t the best weapon by any means, but it was all I had.

“This is your last chance, Adeline.” Nate walked into the living room. “Come out.” I didn’t move. “Very well, then. Bring her up.”

Bring who up? What was he doing? I sucked in a silent breath and listened. I guessed the footfalls to belong to Zane. They grew fainter as he exited the living room. Then, there was nothing. The house was quiet, and that scared me even more.

The familiar sound of the basement door slamming shut reverberated through the farmhouse. Two people joined Nate in the living room.

“This is only happening because of you, Adeline,” Nate loudly stated. I subconsciously leaned closer to the door and flinched when something clamored to the floor. “Last chance, Adeline!”

Leather cracked against flesh, and someone cried out in pain. “Addie stay!” she cried. “No give up!”
 

Oh my God.
Nate hit her again.
 

Phoebe.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay hidden. I had to come out. I had to help Phoebe. Vomit burned in my throat when Nate hit her again. My breathing quickened. I grabbed the shoe and sprang up. My fingers wrapped around the knob. Phoebe’s cries of pain were a dagger to my heart. I wasn’t going to let her get hurt because of me.

I threw open the door and jumped out of the closet. “Stop!” Blinking in the bright light, I stumbled into the foyer. Nate and Zane stood in the threshold in between the dining room and living room. Phoebe lay on the floor with her arms wrapped protectively around her head.

“Well, well, well.” Nate turned toward me and smiled. “That’s where you were.” He let his arm fall, his leather belt swinging at his side. Then his lips pulled into a sadistic smile. He brought his arm up and whipped Phoebe.

I didn’t even think. Fueled by anger I ran through the living room. Nate’s cold eyes flashed with shock. Zane looked up, his face blank. For a few seconds, both of them just stood there, dumbfounded. Seeing me racing toward them was the last thing they expected.

And it worked in my advantage. I jumped over the coffee table and dove at Nate. I collided with his side. He stepped back, throwing his arms out to try and keep his balance. My head hit his shoulder. Searing pain rippled across my forehead. Ignoring it completely, I lifted my hand and brought the shoe down as hard as I could. The heel clipped his face.

He stumbled back, backing into a chair. It loudly scooted across the wooden floor. Nate’s arms flailed. I watched it happen in slow motion. His feet went out from underneath him. His eyes widened and he reached out, grasping at anything in front of him. I leaned out of the way just in time. The floor shook from the weight of his body falling onto it.

And then, Zane was on me. He pushed me face down against the floor. My chin hit, and I bit my tongue. Blood pooled in my mouth.

“Get her!” Nate yelled. “Get her!”
 

I thought he was talking about me, and Zane already had me. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Phoebe get up. Zane pushed my face into the floor and yanked my hands behind my back. I couldn’t see what was going on.

Phoebe yelled something in Vietnamese. Then the belt cracked, and Nate cried out in pain. Phoebe had it. She hit Nate. She was fighting back!
 

I struggled to get out of Zane’s grip. He pushed me down and climbed on so that he was straddling me. I bent my legs and brought them up, kicking Zane in the back.

“Get her!” Nate repeated.
 

I felt Zane’s muscles tighten. If he got up to get Phoebe, I could get free. Phoebe hit Nate again.
 
Zane jumped up. I put my hands on the floor to push myself up, but Zane was faster. He kicked hard against my side. The pain shot through my ribs, rendering me useless for a few seconds.
 

It was just enough. Zane grabbed Phoebe and threw her aside as if she weighed nothing. He pulled Nate to his feet and stood in front of him like the good guard dog that he was. I scrambled up and crawled backwards to Phoebe. I threw my arms around her, ready to shield her from any more damage.

“This is unacceptable!” Nate bellowed. I swallowed hard. Nate picked up the leather belt, seething with anger. “Get them downstairs. Now!”

Zane grabbed my ankles and roughly yanked me away from Phoebe. I kicked my feet but was unable to break free from Zane’s grasp. He dragged me into the dining room.
 

“Let me go!” I shouted and thrashed against him. I twisted and reached out, taking hold of a table leg. Zane kept pulling, but I didn’t let go. The table moved along with me, scraping the polished wooden floor. I didn’t see Nate coming until his foot came down on my elbow. I screamed and let go.
 

Zane jerked me into the kitchen. He dropped my ankles, and my feet crashed onto the floor. Sharp pain cracked against my heels. My hands flattened against the cold tile floor as I frantically attempted to get away. I flipped onto my belly and crawled forward. Zane grabbed me around the waist and scooped me up before harshly flipping me over his shoulder. I pounded my fists against his back and screamed.

“Shut the hell up, you motherfucking cunt!” He swiftly turned into the wall. My head cracked against it. Black dots floated in front of me. He moved away and rammed me into the wall one more time. Debilitating dizziness took over. My arms went slack, hanging uselessly down Zane’s back. He opened the basement door and leaned forward.

Numb and on the verge of passing out, I had little control over my body. I slid down Zane’s front. At the last minute, I regained strength in my hands, and I grabbed his shoulders, buffering my fall. He bent his knee up and hit me in the stomach. I crumbled onto the stairs.

It took everything in me to crawl down them before Zane could push me. I made it halfway when Phoebe stumbled through the doorway. She hurried down the steps and helped me the rest of the way. Everything was blurry, and I was nauseous, but somehow I made it to the cot.

I fell onto it, head pounding. Nate and Zane were shouting at each other upstairs. I tried to open my eyes and failed. My eyelids were just too heavy. I took a deep breath and pushed myself up, wavering.
Fuck
. My head throbbed.
 

Zane ran down the stairs, blue eyes flashing with rage. I pushed against the mattress and stood. My knees instantly buckled. I didn’t have a chance to get up again. Zane was right there, over top of me. He slapped me hard across the face. I fell backwards, my head too heavy to hold up.

I didn’t see the syringe in his hand, just felt the sting of the needle in my arm and the cold burn as the drug pushed into my muscles. My fingertips tingled. I lost sensation in my legs. My chest was heavy, and I struggled to breathe.

“Put her in the closet,” Nate ordered. “Since she likes being in them so much.”

I opened my mouth to protest but nothing came out. My entire body was heavy, as if it were made out of lead. There was nothing I could do to keep my eyes open anymore. They closed, shutting out everything that was going on. I was losing consciousness, fast.
 

I remembered Zane’s hands taking a hold of me one more time, then smelling the stale air that wafted out of the closet. He harshly set me down and slammed the door.

 
My cheek rested against the gritty cement floor of the closet. The hard floor painfully pressed against my hipbones. I had horrible cramps in my legs, and my left arm was going numb from being tucked underneath my torso.

I couldn’t move. I wasn’t even able to open my mouth to scream. Breathing took effort. The weight of my own body was suffocating me.

Tears ran down my face, dripping into my ear. I tried to scream but only managed to get out a weak wheeze. The deadbolt shot into place. The paralysis was making its way into my mind, pulling me under. Jackson’s face flashed before me.
 

I’m sorry
, I thought to him. This is what not giving up had gotten me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

MY EYES FLUTTERED open. I was lying on the bed upstairs in the guest room. Zane was above me. He unlocked a metal cuff from around my wrist and let my heavy hand fall onto my face. He snickered and got off the bed. It was sometime in March. Several weeks had passed since I hid in the coat closet.

“You reek.” He wrinkled his nose and shuddered. “I should take you out back and hose you off.” He bent over and picked up my dress. He twisted it in his hands and snapped it against my bare breasts. “I don’t want to touch you. Get up.”

“Mhh,” I mumbled. My mind was stuck in a perpetual heavy fog. I sat up, so dizzy it was hard to smooth out the dress and slip it over my head. My eyes closed on their own accord. I swung my legs over the bed, pausing to collect my balance.
 

Inpatient, Zane took a hold of my hands and helped me to my feet with uncharacteristic gentleness. He wasn’t being nice. His patience was learned, albeit it had taken him several weeks to learn it. I was too heavily drugged to walk on my own. If someone didn’t escort me back into the basement, I wasn’t able to get there until the drugs left my system.

He kept a steady hold on me as we walked down the stairs, through the first level of the house, and into the basement. He dropped me off at the bottom of the stairs. Phoebe and Lily stood in front of the mirror, getting ready for another night’s work. I wobbled on my feet and leaned against the wall or support.

Phoebe set down the tube of lipstick she held and rushed over. She wrapped her arm around me and led me to my cot. I flopped down on it and fell backwards. Phoebe lifted my feet onto the mattress.

“You burning hot.” She pressed her hand against my forehead. “Lily, bring me wet cloth.”

 
Now that she had mentioned it, I did feel warm. “I’m okay,” I slurred. I blinked. Or at least I thought that was all I had done, but when I opened my eyes, Lily stood over me, folding a dripping washcloth in half.

“I say damp, not soaking,” Phoebe said.

“No, you said wet,” Lily told her.

Phoebe shook her head and took the washcloth from Lily. She wrung it out on the floor and draped it over my forehead.

Lily knelt down and put her hand on my cheek. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I not know.” Phoebe smoothed back my hair. “She have fever.”

Lily shook her head, causing a cascade of strawberry blonde curls to fall into her face. “It’s been three weeks. They need to stop drugging her. It’s, like, gonna damage her brain or something.”

“Guys,” I mumbled. “I’m fine.”

“No,” they said in unison. Phoebe cast her eyes to the ground. “Addie,” she said gently. “You sick. You not feel it because of drugs.”

I nodded. She was right, and I knew it made sense. After my failed attempt at running out of the house, Nate locked me in the closet for three days. If it wasn’t for Lily and Phoebe sneaking me food and water, I might not have made it.
 

When Nate finally let me out, he strapped a house arrest anklet on me and shoved a pill down my throat. As the grainy pill disintegrated, he told me that the anklet would alert him if I tried to take it off, and it had GPS. Even if I got out of the house, they would find me. I had begun feeling fuzzy as he spoke. It wasn't long until I was pulled into a drug-induced haze. I was too out of it to protest. I was too weak to run.

 
That had become my new routine. For the last three weeks, I was drugged, dragged upstairs, and chained to the bed. Once my work was done, Zane brought me back down to the basement. If Lily or Phoebe were there, they would help me eat, shower, or lay down until the drugs wore off. Then I’d have a few hours of being sober until the day repeated.

“She’s shivering.” Lily pulled the quilt over me. “Should I get her water?”

“Addie, you thirsty?” Phoebe asked.

“I think so,” I answered. My throat burned. Maybe. I couldn’t really tell. I still felt numb. Lily scuttled away, returning with a cup of water. I struggled to push myself up onto my elbows.
 

“Ugh,” I groaned. I hated not being able to easily move. Phoebe took the cup and put it to my lips, slowly tipping it so I could slurp down the cold water.

“You almost ready?” Rochelle called and clomped down the stairs.

Lily shot up and scrambled over to the vanity. Her green eyes widened with fear, looking like she just got caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. “Yeah,” she said right away.

“No you’re not!” Rochelle stopped at the base of the stairs. “You don’t have any makeup on.”

“She doesn’t need any,” I mumbled.

Rochelle ignored me and strode past. She sat Lily down on the stool in front of the vanity and started caking foundation over Lily’s flawless skin. “Come on, Pheebs.” She cast a look over her shoulder. Phoebe set the cup down and hugged me.

“Rest as much as you can,” she whispered. “We go on two day trip. See you later.” I collapsed back onto the bed and closed my eyes. I tried staying awake by listening to the girls getting ready but it didn’t work. When I woke up, they were gone.

But I wasn’t alone. Nate and Zane stood next to the cot, both dressed in formal suits.
 
They both looked handsome. Inhumanly handsome, at that. I wanted to vomit.