CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I CAREFULLY SCRAPED a perfect arch in the frost-covered window. The thin ice melted instantly when it met my skin. I watched thick snowflakes collect on the brown grass and thought about my dogs. Scarlet loved snow. Even in her old age, she would leap through snowdrifts like a puppy. I sighed, my breath clouding around my face. I hugged myself, rubbing my hands up and down on my arms.
“Why are you dressed like that?” I asked Phoebe as I stepped down from the chair and turned around. “You look like a candy cane.”
She looked down at the red and white stripped spandex jumper she had on and raised an eyebrow. “That the point.” Her expression saddened when she saw my confusion. “Addie,” she said gently. “It two days before Christmas.”
“Really?” I asked. I had just returned to the basement from the guest room. My wrists hurt from being tied up all day, and my arms were stiff, pulled unnaturally over my head. The muscles in my thigh quivered, sore as if I had worked out. Really, I tensed every time I was raped, fighting my rapist each and every time. When it was too much for them to handle, Zane tied my ankles to the bed. One time he held me down and watched the rape happen.
I knew Christmas was approaching, but I didn’t realize it was that close. The house hadn’t been decorated for the holiday. Had two months really passed since I last stepped foot outside? “Oh.”
Next to Halloween, Christmas was my second favorite holiday. It was my mother’s favorite by far. She had always gone all out, decorating the house to the point of making me feel claustrophobic. She was good at finding everything and anything Christmas themed. One year she even found holiday printed toilet paper. I wondered if she even bothered to decorate this year. I hoped she had. I didn’t want my family and friends to entirely move on and bury my memory, but I wanted them to be able to live their lives. Nate might have control over my life, but I didn’t want him to have that effect on the people I care about.
“No wonder you’ve been so busy,” I said quietly. I had a hard time keeping track of time. Everything blurred together. “What is wrong with people that they would want to celebrate Christmas with an underage prostitute?” I asked myself and shook my head. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, pushing away thoughts of my family. I wanted to wait until the girls were gone to have another breakdown.
The basement door opened and Jackson plodded down the stairs. He hadn’t so much as said a word to me since we talked about books right after Halloween. I sometimes found myself wanting to discuss the topic again, but quickly reminded myself that he wasn’t anyone I wanted to be friends with. Still…the topic of reading brought a sense of comfort. It reminded me of my life before being taken.
His right hand was wrapped in a bloody bandage, and he held his arm close to his body. He kept his eyes on the ground as if he refused to acknowledge my presence.
“Ready?” he asked, directing his question to no one in particular.
“Yeah,” Lily said and stood. She put a knee length, red sweater over her tight jeans and a midriff showing white, fuzzy sweater.
I found it odd that Jackson was taking them instead of Zane. Even after I stopped going out, Zane came down to get the girls, and Jackson brought them back. I sat on the cot, feeling lonely and scared as soon as Lily and Phoebe left. Rochelle had disappeared with Zane the night before, and she hadn’t been back since. I was certain she was too important, business-wise at least, to Nate for Zane to hurt her, but I couldn’t help the sick feeling that curdled in my stomach when I thought of her being alone with him.
Feeling restless with fear, I sprang up off the cot and began pacing around the basement. It helped me stay warm, and it helped stop the fight-or-flight feeling from taking over. I slowly crept up the stairs and jiggled the knob, just in case. Of course it was locked.
The wonderful aroma of freshly baked apple pie wafted through the cracks in the doorframe. I stuck my face close to the door and inhaled. The smell immediately made my mouth water and brought up another family Christmas memory.
The floorboards creaked in the kitchen. I gasped in fear and scurried down the stairs just in time for the basement door to fly open.
“Adeline,” Zane called.
“What?” I responded. Just the sound of his voice caused my hair to stand on end.
“What?” he scoffed. “I called you, come here,” he stated, talking to me as if I was a dog.
I planted my sweaty palms on my thighs and stood before slowly walking to the base of the stairs.
“You’re so fucking slow,” he sighed.
I took as long as I could to climb up the steps. As soon as I was on the first floor, Zane shoved me forward and slammed the basement door closed. He took a hold of my arm and led me to the front door. He let go, put on a coat and gloves, and opened the door. He pushed me outside and stepped behind me.
I shivered as fluffy snowflakes landed on my skin. The wind had picked up, and the rate the snow was falling was increasing. Two cardboard boxes full of lights and garland sat to my right.
“Nate wants the house decorated,” Zane told me. He pulled a silver flask from his pocket, put up his hood, and leaned against the side of the house. I didn’t move. Zane jerked his head forward and widened his eyes. “What, are you fucking retarded?” he snarled. “Put up the decorations.”
“I-I don’t have shoes,” I stuttered. “Or a coat. It’s cold.”
Zane shrugged. “That’s your problem. I don’t give a shit.”
I stared at Zane in what should have been disbelief, but by then I knew anything was possible with him. He unscrewed the flask and took a sip. He reached behind him, trading the flask for something else.
“And feel free to run. I’ve been wanting to hit some targets,” he growled and flashed his gun.
My hands were already shaking from cold. I eyed the weapon, taking in the long silencer, and swallowed my fear. I just moved my head up and down and reached into the box. Everything was tangled; it took fifteen minutes just to get the garland and lights unknotted. I moved to the other side of the wrap around porch, and Zane came with, keeping his gun in his hands and his eyes on me.
My fingers hurt from cold as I wrapped the garland around the railing of the porch. Before I was taken I enjoyed decorations so much better when someone else put them up. Even if I wasn’t shivering uncontrollably, I would have had a hard time keeping the lights perfectly even with the garland.
“It’s messed up there,” Zane pointed out. “Fix it.”
My teeth chattered, and my arms began to shake along with my hands. My fingers were numb and I couldn’t get a grip on the strand of white lights.
“Fix it,” Zane snarled again.
“I’m t-trying,” I mumbled.
“Try harder,” Zane said and pushed himself up off the rocking chair. He strode over and smacked the back of my head.
I knew I should have felt more pain that I did, though with the horrible stinging that plagued my feet, it was hard for new pain to register. I put my hands on the railing and pinched at the lights. My fingers were so numb, I couldn’t tell if I really had it in my grasp or not.
“You are worthless,” Zane said and shoved me to the side. He bit the tip of his glove and pulled it off with his mouth, then he picked up the lights and looped it around. “I’m going to freeze to death waiting for your slow ass,” he complained.
“There,” he said when he reached the end of the porch. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he scoffed, ignoring the fact that he had only decorated the last four feet. I had done the rest. He pushed past me and went back into the house. I felt like my feet were going to crack and shatter as I walked, each step jarringly painful.
The best thing to do for frostbite was to submerge the frozen parts in warm water. Since that wasn’t an option, I pulled the quilt off of Phoebe’s bed and shakily sank down onto my cot, wrapping both quilts around my shivering body. I curled up in a little ball, tucking my feet as close to my legs as possible. I breathed on my hands and wiggled my fingers, trying to will the feeling back in and the cold out.
I was able to unclench my fists and flex my toes by the time Phoebe and Lily returned. I tossed Phoebe’s quilt back and sat up.
“The house looks pretty,” Lily said.
At first I thought she was trying to compliment my shitty job, but realized she had no idea I was the one who stood in the cold putting up the lights. I inspected my hands, looking for signs of damage. I wasn’t sure if it was too soon to tell, but it looked like the damage done from my flesh freezing stopped at first-degree frostbite…or so I hoped.
“Is someone special coming?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m assuming so. Why else would Nate want the house decorated?”
“Right.” She sat at the card table and unzipped her boots. “I hate Christmas,” she sighed. “Always have, always will.”
“Why do you hate Christmas?” I asked, sensing her hidden sadness.
She shrugged. “It’s a dumb holiday, that’s all.”
I just nodded, remembering her telling me about her bad family life. I didn’t think Christmas morning was a joyful time in her house. I felt a stab of sadness in my heart when I imagined Lily waking up after falling asleep watching Christmas specials on TV. Her mom would be passed out and hung over if not still drunk and her step dad…I shuddered. I didn’t want to think about what he might have done to her.
“I’m going to bed,” Lily announced and changed into pajamas. Phoebe did the same. She crawled into bed rubbing her wrists.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Sore,” she told me and held up her hands. The skin around her wrists was red and raw. It was something that had happened to me before.
“I hate being tied up,” I said with empathy. “Want me to get you a washcloth?”
She shook her head. “Too tired.” She gave me a feeble half smile and straightened out her quilt. “Night.”
“Night,” I responded and lay back down. I replayed my favorite Christmas memories over and over in my head, feeling more homesick than I had in a while.
Eventually I drifted to sleep and had a nightmare about Zane dressing up in a Santa suit and sneaking into my room. I woke the next morning with my heart racing and my forehead covered in a cold sweat.
My body was stiff from being so cold. Lily and Phoebe sat close together on a cot with a blanket draped over their shoulders.
“Want to sit with us?” Lily asked.
“Yeah,” I said and got up. I quickly went to the bathroom and tore a leftover peanut butter and jelly sandwich in half. Lily lifted up the blanket. I sat down and wrapped it around myself, feeling instant warmth. Phoebe shuffled a deck of cards and dealt them out. We spent the morning playing Go Fish.
Sometime in the afternoon, the basement door opened. Lily had a moment of panic because she hadn’t gotten dressed and ready for the day. My muscles tensed at the thought of Nate or Zane. Jackson’s ungraceful footsteps offered just a smidge of relief.
His eyes met mine for a brief second the moment he stepped onto the concrete floor. Blood rushed to his cheeks and he looked away. It was odd, the way his embarrassment seemed so … so innocent. I watched him cross the basement, holding his arms close to his body. He couldn’t be like Zane, could he? I bit the inside of my cheek as I thought about it.
It didn’t matter. He was upstairs while we were trapped down here. He wasn’t a good guy. He couldn’t be.
“I need you to follow me,” he blurted. “Dress warm,” he added and crossed his arms over his chest. Phoebe and Lily got up and went to the selection of clothes, having a hard time finding something that provided warmth. “You too, Adeline.”