Chapter 7
Brenda
I feel him carrying me, but I’m not fully conscious. The fucker tagged me with a taser. I need to get away from him. I know he’s going to kill me. I drag my heavy eyelids open as I feel him slide me into the back of a van. He cuffs my hand to a side of the van, then brushes his fingers across my face. “So perfect. I’m going to have so much fun with you. And no one can stop me.” I can’t hold back the urge to vomit, and I let loose, throwing up on him. “You, dumb bitch. I have to go to work. Now I’m going to have to take you home first.” I feel a stinging slap across my face.
“Asshole,” I grumble as he closes the van doors before passing back out.
I wake up as he pulls up to his driveway. Fuck, I’m so scared and wish that I told Dane that I loved him and that’s what’s wrong with me. Tears fall down the side of my face as I lay on my back. He opens the back door, and I see that I’m in his garage.
“Come on, princess. I’ve got to get ready and can’t leave you in here all day.”
He reaches to uncuff me, and when I’m free from the van, I start to fight. I’m not nearly as strong as he is, but I claw at his face. And something fucked up happens. His skin peels. I feel a shot of electricity against my skin again. This bastard, he’s trying to kill me. He should have just did it already. He carries me into the house as I barely contain the contents of my empty stomach. Vomiting acid is one of the nastiest feelings, and that’s all I have left.
“I’m thirsty and hungry.”
“Well, I’ll give you a snack, but no more food until I get home, princess. You’re going to learn to listen to me and serve me well. As soon as I saw you, I knew you were perfect. Will you fight me like the last one, or will you get to live as my personal love slave? It will all depend on you.”
Once we’re inside, I notice that he goes to the mirror and fixes his face. He’s wearing a mask. But who the hell is he?
He carries me down to the basement, I want to attack him again, but I’m not sure it’ll do any good. I have no food, and I’m on the verge of being killed with a damn taser. I see the basement we built for him. It’s superior craftsmanship and would make a magazine cover if it wasn’t a part of a crazy killer’s personal playground.
He drops me roughly on the floor. “Ahh,” I cry out. The jagoff wants me to be the weakest possible before he has his way with me.
“Oops.” He opens the hidden keg room. Damn it. That’s where he’s going to keep me? It can only fit two barrels in the space, and there’s no light in there. He specifically said no light because he wanted it to be lit only with a flashlight when needed.
He drags me to the door and pushes me in, slamming it behind me. The darkness overwhelms me, and my heart starts racing. I’m more scared than ever before. I rest my head back against the wall, then do my best to calm down. Two minutes it opens, and he throws a bag of chips and a bottle of water to me before locking me up.
“I have at least a full day before anyone comes to look for you with your husband out of town. It’s perfect. And they have no reason to look for you here.” He laughs, and his voice rings a bell. Where have I heard it before? I think about it in my dark hole. I hear the vehicle drive away, but I don’t move yet. I’m not strong, and I don’t trust this fucker to not come back right away. I eat the generic ass chips and freaking store brand water. What a douche? I can’t get some Doritos at least.
About two hours later, I’m a little more relaxed, but I feel like my air is thinning. I have to break out. I don’t know what he does for a living, but I know that he said he had to go to work.
That’s when I remember the structure of the build. The hinge is messed up. I hope he’s right. The storage wasn’t meant for a human. I’m sure I can kick the door down. I try to find the proper leverage. Once I have it, I kick the lock. It budges just a little, but not enough I do it again, but it’s still not enough. Then I remember he said one hinge was loose. I nudge the door and realize it’s the bottom hinge. A take another drink of water and then give it all I got. With one kangaroo kick, I bust the door. Yes. Thank the Lord. There’s something heavy blocking the way, but I can shimmy my way through. I look around, and the coast is clear. I can’t see outside from here, but I climb the steps.
And motherfucking hell, there’s a lock on this door, too. I need to get out of here. I head back down to see if I can find anything to break the door. Nothing. I want to try brute force, but I barely had enough for the small door.
“Shit,” I screech out. I hear a vehicle. The doorbell rings, knowing it’s not him gives me a sense of relief, but I’m not sure anyone can hear me. I shout my loudest for help. I don’t hear anything, then footsteps start approaching quickly.
“What the fuck? There’s a padlock on this door that we didn’t install.” I recognize the voice.
“Dane. Dane, I’m down here.”
“Baby, stay calm.” I hear footsteps rush away. Fear and panic do a double take. It’s like getting pulled to safety while in the water with sharks. Never knowing if you’re going to get bit at the last minute. I hear a toolbox hit the floor and seconds later the door is opened from the hinges and I’m in my husband’s arms.
“Brenda, baby. Brenda,” he chokes out, hugging me tightly to his chest.
“Sir, we need to get her out of here and to a doctor.” I’m lifted off my feet and cradled in Dane’s arms.
“Can you take the toolbox?”
“We’ll come back for it.” The cop has his gun out leading the way out. “Do you know where Mr. Jones is?”
“He said he was going to work.”
Dane growls out his frustrations. “You all better find him before I do.”
“The thing is, he’s not who he says he is.”
The police officer interrupts me, “I know. No one by the name of Jones’s lives here. This house is in the middle of an estate issue after the death of the owner. That’s all we know about the house.”
“There’s more. I scratched his face, and he’s wearing some sort of skin-like mask.” Both of them freeze and stare at me.
“What the fuck?” That came from the cop. He gets on his shoulder walkie and calls for backup and an ambulance. I can’t stop looking around.
“How did you find me?” I ask Dane who’s taking me to his truck.
He doesn’t answer until he sits me inside the passenger seat. “Ben went to the house and told me that your phone had Jones typed into it as a message for me, but you didn’t send.”
“Thank goodness you guys found it.”