Erin

I reach into the bowl of popcorn, taking a piece and popping it into my mouth as I study the chessboard to decide my next move.

“You always eat one piece at a time,” Derek observes from the other side of the bed.

We have the chessboard on top of a towel in what has become our room instead of just mine, and we’re sitting on either side of it. It’s only early evening, but we both needed a break in here. Kenna is on the warpath, and Bryce is sitting with Matias.

“That’s because I’m not an animal,” I say, arching my brows as I meet Derek’s gaze across the board.

He laughs as I move my pawn.

“Nice move,” he says, quickly making his next one.

“Thanks.”

“What are you missing the most tonight?”

I sigh softly. “The woods. The smells of earth and wet leaves and pine needles. The dappled sunlight sneaking through when you’re hiking and you’re coming to a clearing. And the sounds…” I close my eyes and smile at the scents I know and love so well. “The chirping and singing and humming. The way trees sound when the wind is rustling their leaves.”

“Now I’m missing it, too.”

“What would you eat for your first meal if we ever get out of here?”

He groans as he considers the options. “Oh shit. That’d be tough. Probably steak and pizza with a cold beer. What about you?”

“A big salad with grilled chicken and all the veggies. And cheese and bacon.”

Derek groans again. “Oh, bacon. I fucking love bacon. I didn’t eat it much before, but it was always there if I wanted it.”

“Maybe some cherry pie with ice cream,” I continue.

“I could scarf an entire pie right now.”

We’re all leaner than we were when our captivity began. Derek has cut way back on his running to keep the weight loss at bay, but his cheeks are hollower now. Bryce’s belly has shrunk considerably. I think we all have an awareness that extra food we eat now is food we may need later.

I’m thinking about my next move when Derek says, “The football record wasn’t really something I wanted for myself.”

I give him a surprised look. “You didn’t want it?”

He stretches out on his side, careful not to rock the bed, and then props himself up on an elbow. “I did want it. But all the time I have to think down here has helped me see that I didn’t want it for myself. It was about my mom.”

“You haven’t seen her in more than twenty years, though.”

“Yeah.” He looks down at the board. “And football was my dad’s way of channeling my anger about her leaving. It worked, but I think at some point every accomplishment became a way of proving something not to myself, but to her.”

A feeling inside me stirs with awareness at Derek’s revelation.

“I think…” He doesn’t seem able to look at me as he continues. “I think I wanted to prove to her that she was wrong for leaving me. That I was somehow as good…or even better, than her new kids. That sounds pretty fucked up.”

“No.” I reach out and cup his bearded cheek in my hand, ignoring the chess pieces that tip over. “That is so not fucked up at all, and trust me, I know.”

His gaze turns from the board to my face. “What do you mean?”

I pull my hand back, feeling that familiar urge to don my protective armor.

Dodge. Deflect. Redirect his attention.

I’ve gotten so good at avoiding questions about my past over the years. But down here, everything is different. I will most likely die down here with these people, and no one will ever have a chance to know the real me—the entire me—ever again. But Derek still can.

I pick up the chessboard and move it to the floor, the pieces spilling over as I set it down. Then I return to the bed and lie on my back next to Derek.

“You know how I freaked out about being trapped down here at first?”

“Yeah, you had me worried when you cut up your hands.”

I sigh softly, my gaze fixed on the ceiling as my heart pounds. I don’t go to this wounded corner of my mind very much anymore. It’s a dark, scary place that will always haunt me.

“I’m claustrophobic,” I continue softly, “and there’s a reason.”

Derek takes my hand as several seconds of silence pass.

“My mom was young when she had me,” I say, turning my face so I can see his. “She was seventeen. It was just her and me, at least from what I remember. I never knew my dad. And I don’t know how or when, but at some point, she became a drug addict.”

He strokes his thumb across my wrist, listening.

“We lived in a run-down two-story house. It was dirty, but I didn’t know any different. I adored her. She was my whole world.” My throat tightens as I speak the feelings that always feel raw, no matter how much time passes. “To get the money for her drugs, she would sleep with men. And before anyone came over, she would take me to the cellar.” My voice is strangled by tears.

“Oh my God.” Derek closes his eyes. “Erin…”

“It was smaller than a basement. And so cold. There were no lights. She’d give me a cup of juice and say, ‘Stay quiet, Erin, or you’ll ruin everything.’” I can’t hold back the tears that slide down my cheeks. “And I was so scared every time. I just cried and tried to be quiet, but…there were rats and bugs, and I was just paralyzed with fear.”

“How old were you?” When Derek opens his eyes, they’re welling with tears.

“I was young. A toddler. My uncle Cal, my mom’s brother, came over unannounced one day when he couldn’t reach my mom for a few days. I was four. And I’ll never forget—” I put my fingertips over my mouth to stifle the sob I can’t control. “I remember when that door opened, and I looked up and saw him standing there, with the light behind him. He looked like an angel to me. He came running down the stairs, saying my name, and he was crying. He picked me up and held me so close and ran back up the stairs, and he told me I never had to go down there again.”

A tear rolls from the corner of Derek’s eye and into his beard. “God, I’m sorry, Erin.”

“It was a long time ago.” I smile sadly.

“No, that’s…it’s horrible. I can’t even…and then, to get trapped in here.” He shakes his head. “I am so fucking sorry for every wrong assumption I made about you.”

I sniffle and laugh. “I must’ve looked crazy.”

“Anyone would have been that way if they’d been through something so traumatic.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Tell me what happened after that.”

“My uncle took me to the hospital, and I had to stay there for a few days. I was dehydrated and malnourished.”

“Jesus. How long had you been down there?”

“Several days. It was always several days at a time, while my mom was on these crazy benders with people upstairs.”

“And you stayed with your uncle after that?”

“Yes. Child and Family Services got involved, but he and my aunt said they wanted me and they were able to get custody. Uncle Cal never left my side in that hospital room. He became my hero. They treated me like a daughter, and their two sons were like brothers to me. I had nightmares for years and had to go to Denver for special therapy, and they were there for all of it.”

“Thank God for them.” Derek’s expression is incredulous. “And what about your mom? Did you see her after that?”

“A few times, but it was always very traumatic for me. I’d cry the entire time and wet my pants because I was so scared she was going to take me back to that house and put me in the cellar. Eventually, she stopped coming.”

“Did she ever get clean?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. My uncle never wanted anything to do with her after that. We lost touch with her.”

Derek brushes the hair back from my face and leans forward, kissing my forehead, then my nose, and then each cheek.

“How do you feel about her now?” he asks.

I sigh softly. “That’s a really big question. I have mixed emotions. Sadness and shame. Resentment and, believe it or not, still a little fear.”

Derek’s expression softens with understanding. “I get that. But you survived something horrible, and you should be damn proud of yourself.”

“I am…mostly. But I have a constant awareness that I’m different from other people.”

“Not in any bad ways, Erin. You’re an amazing person.”

I smile and kiss his lips softly. “Thank you.”

“And this is why you love the outdoors.” Awareness dawns on his face. “Wide-open spaces, fresh air…”

“Yes, it’s a big part of it. I’m uncomfortable anywhere I feel trapped. But life on a farm also gives you a great appreciation for the outdoors.”

“And you help other people discover it, too. The outdoors is the greatest therapy for some people.”

I smile. “It really is. What I went through is why I volunteer for Camp Caroline, too. Caroline was a little girl who died from child abuse. My cousins and I started the camp in her name. We find sponsors to cover the cost of camp for survivors of abuse.”

“That’s incredible, Erin.”

“I get as much out of it as the kids do,” I admit. “Probably more.”

“You help rebuild broken spirits.” Derek’s tone is filled with awe. “I just toss around a ball on a field.”

“You toss it pretty well, though.” I grin at him.

My smile fades as I think about Camp Caroline. “I hope the camp keeps growing. I guess…I must be dead now, as far as everyone up there knows.”

“It’s pretty fucking surreal, isn’t it? Thinking there could be a headstone out there with your name on it.”

I sit up in bed, combing my fingers through my messy hair. “This conversation is going to lead me to think about my family, and that always makes me sad. I need to do something to get my mind off things.”

“Say no more.” Derek puts a hand on my thigh.

I shake my head and laugh. “I’m not up for that, for once. Not after such a heavy conversation.”

He pats my leg and removes his hand. “I understand. Chess?”

“Nah, I’m burned out.” I consider. “Why don’t we make up a new recipe, and then we can deliver some to Matias on a plate we can tape to the remote-control car? He might get a kick out of that.”

“I like it. Maybe some pumpkin nut beef jerky balls?”

“Mmm,” I say sarcastically. “Rolled in uncooked oats.”

“Who needs a fuckin’ steak when I can have that?”

We both laugh as we scoot out of bed. If we don’t make light of our situation, it gets stifling. Derek is always good at helping me get out of a funk by bringing up the mood.

I hope when the time comes, I die before him.