Chapter 3
Luke
It’s been three days since Emily arrived. Three days since I haven’t been down here by myself for days on end. Before she was brought here, the only time I ever saw another person was on fight nights. It’s still an adjustment having her here. She talks a lot: she’s always trying to figure out some magical plan to get us out. I can’t blame her—I was the same way once.
Nights are the hardest; she cries herself to sleep. She talks about her dad a lot, about how much she misses him, and how sorry she is that she disappointed him by walking home alone. I haven’t figured out what to do when she cries. I don’t have anybody who is missing me right now, and I have no home to go to if we were ever to come up with a way to get the hell out of here. So, I pretend to fall asleep quickly. I pretend not to hear her cry for her dad to take her home. I pretend not to feel the bed shaking when she sobs. It nearly kills me to listen to her night after night.
“Luke!” she hisses the moment I hear the locks disengaging from the door.
Instinctively, I grab her hand. Why? I have no fucking idea. It’s not like I can protect her from that monster.
“Boy! Girl! Get your asses up here. It’s gym time,” he yells before slamming the door shut. He hasn’t called for me to go to the gym since that night. I knew eventually he’d call for me to go back up there—he wouldn’t dare let his fighter get too out of shape and risk losing more money. I just didn’t expect him to call for Emily to come with me.
“Luke…” she’s so quiet I can barely hear her.
“It’s okay,” I try to reassure her despite not knowing what the hell is going on. “Just stay close to me.”
Keeping her hand in mine, I lead her blindly to the stairs. Even though I already told her about the step with the hole in it, I make it a point to remind her when we reach it. She still forgets to count her steps when she goes to use the toilet or shower. Getting a little off track is one thing, putting your foot through a step is another.
When we reach the door, I slowly open it. He’s standing here, with the knife in his hand, watching us. Emily moves closer to me the moment she sees him. I quickly lead us the few steps to the door where the small gym is. The moment we enter, the door slams behind us, locks engaging. Only then does she release the breath she was holding and lets go of my hand, that until that moment, I hadn’t realized she was still holding.
The room is small, maybe half the size of a bedroom. There are no windows; the only light source is a small bulb hanging from the ceiling. There are just a few free weights, a treadmill and a punching bag in here. A quick glance around the room though shows he added to it.
“That must be for you.” I gesture to the small folding chair in the corner.
“That means he doesn’t expect me to fight, right?” her voice is full of hope.
“I told you, I’ve never seen a girl there before. I don’t think they’d have you fight against a guy… it wouldn’t be a fair fight. He’s not that stupid.”
“So I’m here to…just watch?”
“I guess so.”
For the first time since we came in here, I turn to look at her. Her arms immediately cross over her chest, obviously realizing what little clothing she has on. I try to look away, but it’s hard not to look at her. Despite everything she’s been through, she’s… beautiful. Her blond hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail, but her blue eyes capture my attention more than anything. They remind me of the ocean—I could get lost in them the same way I used to stare out at the ocean for hours.
She clears her throat and her cheeks turn a light pink, catching me staring at her. I quickly force myself to turn away, to head toward the free weights. For the next hour, I follow the workout routine that I’ve done nearly every day for the past ten months. He has it outlined on the wall and if I dare deter from it, I’m punished again.
The entire time though, I can’t keep my eyes off of Emily. She sits on the chair in the corner, with her arms wrapped around her knees. Sometimes when I glance over there, I catch her watching me, but other times she’s staring off into the distance.
“Time’s up!” he pounds on the door that is the only warning we get before it’s thrown open.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough time for me to get to Emily before he barges in. The only way for her to get to me is to cross in front of him. Her fear filled eyes find mine the moment she realizes that I can’t reach her. I take a step towards her, but he must sense what I’m going to do because instead, he rushes over to her. He drags her by her hair from the chair, ignoring her screams.
“Let her go!” I beg.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” He’s holding her up against him now.
“Let her go.”
Her gaze finds mine, begging me to do something to help. I don’t know what to do—there’s nothing I can do! It’s just like the first night she was here, when he had her tied to the pipe. I couldn’t do anything then and I can do a damn thing now. The knife is in his hand, pressed against her stomach. If I try to stop him, he’s going to slice her open with it. I know I’m not fast enough to get to the knife before he uses it.
“You’re going to fight for me tomorrow night, boy.”
“Yes…I’ll win. I promise I’ll win—just don’t hurt her.”
“Oh, I know you’ll beat whoever’s in the ring with you, because if you don’t…she’ll take the punishment for you.”
“No!” she cries.
“I’ll win,” I vow.
“Good,” his hand moves before I can figure out what he’s going to do. The knife slashes through the thin fabric of her bra, instantly opening it and exposing her. “You win tomorrow night and maybe I’ll find a shirt for her. You lose…”
“I won’t lose, I promise.”
“Good,” he tosses her towards me, “now get downstairs.”
I wrap an arm around her, letting her sob against me as I quickly move us the short distance to the stairwell door. He doesn’t move as we walk past, but I can feel him watching us. I let out a breath as soon as the basement door closes behind us and hear the locks engaging. I guide her, still sobbing and clinging to me, down the stairs and over to the mattress.
“I…thought…I….”
“Shhhhh…”
“What…if…you…can’t…”
“I’ll beat whoever they put me against tomorrow night. I won’t let him hurt you, I promise, Em.”
I don’t know how the hell I’m going to keep that promise, but I know right now I’d do just about anything to not see that fear in her eyes again. Especially because it’s my fault that she’s even here to begin with. She’s suffering enough…I won’t add to it.
With her head resting on my shoulder, eventually her breathing evens out and the sobs quiet. I keep my arm around her back, careful to avoid the bandages and welts that are still healing. We sit like that for what seems like hours before she finally sits up and pulls back a little.
“I…I think I need a shower,” she whispers. “I…can still feel him on me.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Unlike her usual quick showers, this one lasts much longer. I’m not surprised. I know how difficult it can be to try to get rid of that feeling of him still touching you. I have to win tomorrow’s fight at all costs to make sure he doesn’t lay a hand on her again. I need him to realize that she’s doing exactly what he intended her to do—she’s motivating me.
“Um…”
“What’s wrong?” I ask quickly.
“Nothing, I…washed my panties. They’re hanging in the shower…you know…just in case you need to…”
“Oh…okay.”
I refuse to think about the fact that she must be naked right now. I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad for the darkness down here as I am right now. I’d offer her my shorts, but they’re still drying from when I washed them this morning. The couple of small hand towels that are down here can’t be covering very much—they wouldn’t even fit around her waist.
“I…”
“So…”
We both laugh when we start talking at the same time. God, when was the last time I laughed?
“What were you going to say?” I ask.
“I was just going to point out that this is a little awkward.”
“Yeah, it is.” I laugh again.
It’s odd, but after we both admit how awkward the situation is, things seem less so. Thankfully, because of the darkness, it’s easy to forget that there’s no way the hand towels are covering anything. The rest of the night passes by slowly, just like they all do. There’s only so much you can do in a dark basement. Dinner consists of the same peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that he leaves for us on nights I don’t fight. Shortly after eating, we both fall asleep on the dirty mattress.
I wake up suddenly, panicking at the thought that he is down here again. I try to look around the basement, but of course, it’s too dark to see much of anything beyond shadows. I try to calm my breathing because right now that’s the only thing I can hear. I need to figure out what woke me up! It takes a few moments, but then I realize what the sound I heard was.
Emily. She’s moaning and thrashing about on the other side of the bed. She’s mumbling something that I can’t understand. I’m pretty sure she’s having a nightmare. I try calling her name, knowing that I need to find a way to keep her quiet. If he hears her, there’s no telling what he’ll do. I promised I would do everything I could to protect her, but if she starts screaming and he comes down here to punish her…
“Emily… Em!” I whisper as loudly as I can.
When she doesn’t respond, I inch over to what has become her side of the mattress. Usually, when we sleep, I try to keep myself on the edge of the mattress to give her as much space as possible, but sometimes during the night I’ll wake up and find that I’m much closer to her. I’ve always immediately moved back to my side of the mattress; I don’t think she’s ever realized it has happened. Right now, though, I purposely move closer to her, calling her name as I do.
“NO!” she screams when I touch her arm.
“Emily!” I try calling her name a little louder.
Still no response—at least not to me. In her sleep though, she’s sobbing and pushing at the wall as if it’s trying to…I don’t know what. Wrapping an arm around her bare stomach, I pull her closer to me and away from the offending wall. She sobs again, but when she can’t reach it any longer, she seems to calm down. I hold her against me, not sure what else to do.
Without warning, she turns over and practically wraps her body around me. She sobs into my neck while her leg anchors us together. I’m too stunned by this sudden change to do anything. Part of me wants to pull away from her, to put some distance between us, but the other part of me, the dominant part of me, refuses to let her go. I slip an arm under her head, while the other wraps around her back and I hold her close to me, hoping to provide whatever it is she’s looking for.
I can’t remember the last time I was this close to someone… or the last time someone held me.