Chapter Five

 

Tamara

The minutes tick by, the drips of blood running slowly down my back. Meanwhile, I try to think about anything but how much pain I’m in.

My arms, stretched over my head, are burning, my muscles screaming.

I jump when the door clangs open, and my stomach clenches in fear. More torture?

But this time, Micah is accompanied by a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, carrying a black bag. She’s pretty, with high cheekbones and pale blue eyes, and she’s got frosted blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. The roots have grown in, and as she gets closer, I see she has circles under her eyes. Those eyes go wide when she sees me.

“What the hell have you done to her?” she cries out in horror.

“I’d think it’s rather obvious, isn’t it? And it’s not your concern. You’ll clean her up and check on her daily to make sure her wounds don’t go septic.” He fumbles with my cuffs, and then I’m free. I stagger, almost falling, and brace myself with my hand pressing against the wall.

She looks at him with utter hatred. “You sick bastard.”

“Yes, I think we’ve established that. Why repeat yourself?” His tone is mildly puzzled.

She walks over to the sink, and I see there’s a hose on the cart next to it. There’s also a drain in the floor. She attaches the hose to the faucet and gestures at me to come over. Agonizingly, I obey her, but I can’t suppress my whimpers as she hoses down my back with lukewarm water, rinsing away the blood and washing out the wounds.

When she’s done, she sets down the hose and washes her hands and dries them carefully. Then she pulls on a pair of rubber gloves from a box sitting on the cart.

“You’re a doctor?” I say.

“A nurse. My name is Astrid Barnard. I’m so sorry,” she says in a soft voice as she sprays something cold on my back. “This is antiseptic. I’m also going to be giving you antibiotics. I don’t want to help him, but he’s holding me and three of my children here. And I don’t know where the other two children are right now.” She chokes on a sob as she speaks.

A fresh groundswell of horror sweeps over me and nearly drowns me. Children? He’s holding children hostage?

I’m going to find a way to hurt you, Micah. I’m going fuck you up so badly.

“I have to do whatever he tells me. I’m sorry.” Her voice is a hoarse, heartbroken whisper.

Tears fill my eyes. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault you were kidnapped by a nutjob. You do whatever you have to do.”

I twist around to look at Micah, who is standing close, looking bored. The movement costs me dearly; fire licks up my back, and I gasp in agony.

He can’t keep children prisoner. He can’t. He can’t.

Joshua, what the fuck is taking you so long?

Micah flicks her a look of annoyance. “Your children are living in the lap of luxury here. They’ve got video games and television and excellent food. They have nothing to complain about. Do they, Astrid?”

She looks at him with a flat, blank expression. “Would it do any good to complain? And you may call me Mrs. Barnard.”

I like this woman. I like her a lot.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a can of antiseptic. She starts spraying my back, and I grit my teeth to keep from screaming from the sting.

“Do you want to know why I took her and her children?” Micah asks.

No, all I want is to cut your balls off and feed them to you. But I humor him. “Why?” the word comes out in an agonized grunt.

“Because her husband, Dr. Barnard, kept me prisoner in his mental institution for the last five and a half years.”

“They have nothing to do with this!” I protest.

“No, but I have my reasons for needing them to be here. And it also hurts her husband. So that’s a fun bonus.”

“For the love of God,” I beg him. “Please at least let her children go. After the way you were raised, how can you hurt children?”

Rage contorts his face, and he grabs my tender pierced nipple and twists, making me scream. “Don’t talk to me about my upbringing.” His voice is savage, his eyes mad. “You don’t know a fucking thing about it. And I have not hurt her children. I never hurt children. Ever. Ever. Ever.” His voice goes higher and higher with each syllable. Astrid stiffens and watches him with wary eyes.

He lets go and stumbles back a step. Panting with fury, he turns and runs from the room, slamming the door behind him.

He’s not like Joshua, I think dully. He has no control over his emotions. Maybe I can use that.

Astrid quickly bandages up my back. “I’m sorry,” she whispers again. I lean in, resting my head on her shoulder, pretending I need comfort.

“Are there guards?” I whisper.

“No, just him,” she whispers back so low I can barely hear her. And I feel a surge of hope. Astrid is a strong, brave woman, Micah apparently lets her walk around freely, and I have no doubt she’d kill him in a heartbeat if she got the chance.

“His brother Joshuahe’ll come for me. He’ll find us.”

“I hope so.” There’s not a lot of hope in her voice, but she manages a tight, pinched smile.

A minute later, Micah returns.

“She needs painkillers,” Astrid says in a quiet, deferential voice. “I have codeine in my bag.”

“Fuck that shit. I want her to hurt.”

“You want her alive, don’t you?” There’s a slight tremor in her voice, but she keeps going. Fighting for me, a woman she just met. I blink away tears of gratitude. Her kindness warms me in this cold place. “Pain impedes the healing process. Too much pain can send a person into shock and even kill them. Also, if she’s in too much pain, she won’t be able to sleep, and the combination of lack of sleep, her injuries, and the pain are going to weaken her body and increase the risk of infection.”

“Fine,” he snarls. She quickly fetches me two pills and gives me water to wash them down.

Micah leads me by the arm back to the bed. I’m panting out sobs with every step.

He chains me up, but at this point he wouldn’t even have to. I’m so weak from his whipping that I couldn’t fight a sick kitten. I very slowly lie face down on the bed and pray for the painkillers to kick in. The whole time, Heather’s curled up on her bed, watching me with blank, exhausted eyes.

Micah leaves the room with Astrid, shutting the door firmly. Astrid casts one sad, regretful glance through the bars, then Micah hustles her away.

After a while, I actually manage to fall asleep. It’s probably the codeine. I’m asleep for a few hours when Micah comes in to take us both to the toilet and give us lunch. His face has gone flat and blank again. Apparently he only comes alive when he’s about to hurt somebody.

I’m trembling all over when I walk to and from the toilet. He holds on to my arm so my legs don’t collapse underneath me. I hate the feeling of his hand on my skin, but without his support, I’d fall. Micah doesn’t say a word the entire time, for which I’m grateful. He holds out a handful of pills, and I take them. I’m relieved to see that two of them are codeine, because the pain has come roaring back.

When he leaves the room, I breathe a sigh of relief. His presence is foul and suffocating. He pollutes the air by breathing it. I have to force down the sandwich and apple that he brought me. I’ve no appetite at all, and my stomach threatens to rebel, but I manage to keep it down.

“You really believe Joshua’s going to find us?” Heather’s voice drifts over to me, dull and sad.

“Yes, I’m sure of it.”

“How will he find us?”

“I don’t know. He just will.”

“That’s it? You must have some idea.”

“No, I really don’t. He’s smart, he’s determined, he’s got resources, he cares about me. He’ll find us.” How can she not understand that he’s listening to us? Just because there’s no camera visible doesn’t mean that it isn’t here. A man like him would be watching us constantly.

“So you don’t know shit!” Heather’s voice rises, shrill and angry. “Damn it, Tamara! I’m here because of you! This is your fault! Tell me how he’s going to save us, tell me! I need to know what he’ll do to get us out of here!”

I make myself sit up, very slowly and painfully, so I can turn to face her. My back screams as I brace myself on the bed. I put my finger to my lips and tap my ear, to tell her to be quiet because we’re being spied on.

“Why are you telling me to be quiet?” she screams. “He’s not in here! Tell me how the hell Joshua will get us out, tell me, tell me, tell me!”

Months of living with Joshua have toughened me up considerably. Once I would have agreed with her, and I would have wept and tortured myself with guilt over what’s happening to her. Now I’m much less patient and I’m nobody’s emotional punching bag.

“Heather. It’s not my fault that Micah is a fucking lunatic. It’s not my fault he kidnapped you. And I’m not going to talk to you unless you calm down and lower your voice.”

In response, she glares at me and starts screaming wordlessly at the top of her lungs. She’s gone completely over the edge.

Very carefully and slowly, I turn my back to her and lie down on the bed again. Eventually, she runs out of breath. Then after a while, she starts crying, big gulping, heaving sobs.

“I’m sorry,” she wails. “I’m sorry. I know I’m acting crazy. I don’t have access to my meds here, and I’m going fucking crazy. You don’t know what he’s done to me. I’m so scared, Tamara. I’m scared all the time. Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I tell her gently. “I’m going to try to sleep.” I close my eyes. The pills are starting to take effect again. Weariness sweeps over me, and I struggle to fall back to sleep again. I know that Joshua will tear the world apart to find Micah, but after this morning’s session, I wonder if I’ll still be alive when he gets here.