"There was nobody there. I didn't see anyone," Cassandra chanted over and over. She ran her fingers through her hair and held her head as she rocked back and forth. She took her pulse. There wasn't a clock around, but Cassandra knew her heart beat right out of her chest and her anxiety levels rose fast. "There was nobody there. I didn't see anyone."

Anthony left with a small plastic bag. She heard the door lock behind him but this time she felt relieved to be left alone. He killed someone, and she feared she would be next.

Her face flushed in the hot basement. "There was nobody there. I didn't see anyone," she continued to convince herself.

"What the fuck are you mumbling over there?" Anthony barged into the room and questioned her.

He stood by the door and looked up. He bleached his hair, and she wondered how he did it without running water. Cassandra didn't notice the white washed-out marks on the shirt until he pulled it off his body.

She couldn't help but stare at the ripples in his abdomen and the trail of hair leading down into his low-cut jeans. The sight of his half naked, toned body produced moisture in her panties. He's a killer, Cassandra cursed herself. She wished she could control her hormones and eased when he put on another T-shirt.

"I asked you a question." He howled.

She shook her head. Cassandra thought it was none of his business and didn't want to tell him. Anthony dragged his chair toward her and straddled it. He waited for an answer, but she wouldn't give him one. Cassandra's body trembled, and she knew what would still her. Finally, she replied to him. "If I had my pills, I would be calmer."

"Fuck no." Anthony answered. She snapped her head up and listened to him. "I'll tell you why you can't have them, if you tell me what you've been mumbling."

"There was nobody there. I didn't see anyone." Cassandra repeated, loud enough for him to hear.

Anthony leaned toward her and grinned. "That's why you can't have those pills."

Cassandra was confused and protested. "What?" she squeaked.

"I was there, Cassandra." Anthony spoke to her with a straight face and she realized he knew what she meant by her words.

"No. No. No. This can't be," she babbled. Everything flashed in front of her eyes; her mother's death, the man with blue eyes, and her entire life of being told he didn't exist. "They told me it was my imagination. There was nobody there."

"They said that to convince you. They pumped you with medication to alter your memory." Anthony leaned closer to her and sent goosebumps down her spine. Cassandra couldn't figure him out.

"Why?" Her sobs blossomed to ugly crying.

"If I saved you, behind the crime scene, that would mean I couldn't have-"

Cassandra jumped to conclusions and interrupted. "Oh my God! You killed my mother." She rolled over to the other side of the mattress and jumped off the bed. Anthony reached for her, tried to calm her, but she swatted his hands away. Sweat poured down her face and droplets fell into her cleavage.

He stepped around the bed, closer to her. "Listen to me," he insisted but she couldn't even look at him. Anthony gripped her shoulders. His fingers dug into her skin. "Listen," he spoke again, in a softer tone.

His words gave her an idea. Cassandra quickly inhaled and looked toward the window. She stared across the room like a deer caught in headlights. Anthony noticed. He turned his head with a questionable brow. "Someone's here," Cassandra whispered.

She called for help, but Anthony placed his hand over her mouth. Her plan was working, but she needed to carry on making it seem real. She continued to cry for someone beneath his sweaty palm. Anthony's ears perked, listening for a sound. He let go of her and raced toward the door. Cassandra heard the lock from the other side and knew he would be back soon.

There wasn't much time, she told herself and ran to the other side of the room. The drawer on the table was locked but the table was frail. She picked up a chunk of broken cinder block and pounded it against the drawer. A piece of wood broke off, and she could pry it a little more. All she needed was room for  her hand.

Cassandra felt around. It had only been a minute since Anthony went outside, but it seemed like much more. She pulled out her cell phone and pressed the speed dial. "Pick up, pick up, pick up," she panicked.

"Hello," Cassandra's father answered.

"Daddy, I need help," she breathed into the phone.

"Cassandra? I thought you were in Greece."

"No. There's a man. He kidnapped me. He killed Mom. I need your-"

Anthony knocked the phone out of her hand. She tried so hard to get help, and didn't hear him re-enter the room. Cassandra could hear her father call her name. Anthony threw the phone down and stomped on it. She screamed as loud as she could and backed herself into a corner. Anthony picked the cell off the floor and turned the power off.

"What the fuck did you do?" He screamed at her, louder than he ever had. "Do you realize what you've done."

Cassandra's breathing was quick, and her pulse raced. "I need my dad," She tried to say and hoped he understood.

Anthony pressed her body into the wall. His shoulder pinned her already sore arm in place. Cassandra feared he would strangle her, and she squeezed her eyes shut. The next thing she knew, her body flung to the floor and landed on a broken piece of glass. She grabbed her leg and noticed blood dripping through a rip in her jeans.

"Holy shit, girl," he continued yelling. "You have no idea."

Cassandra stood, she stumbled back to the mattress and flopped down. Her body ached all over as she crawled back to the wall. She looked at Anthony, afraid of what he'd do next, but instead of coming at her to attack again, he sat at the table.

She watched as he pulled his flip phone from his pocket. "We have a problem," he spoke as his eyes focused on her. Cassandra knew that meant trouble for her.