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She deserved better.
Locked?
BRIELLE
This was fine. Everything was fine.
Brielle was safe. Her parents weren’t there to belittle her and fight with her about every little thing. She wasn’t going to walk in on her ex-boyfriend with her ex-best friend.
She had everything she needed. Clothes, food, shelter, entertainment.
She even had a friend. John was so good to her.
But she couldn’t stop looking at the front door.
The thing she’d done with John’s friend wasn’t a big deal. Brielle wasn’t a prude. In fact, she’d enjoyed it. He hadn’t made her do anything she didn’t want to do. Granted, she’d been pretty high at the time and didn’t really remember the details, but John certainly hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d been right there, ready to protect her the whole time.
And it wasn’t like it had happened again. It wasn’t a big deal at all.
She was so close to believing that. But not enough that she could ignore the front door.
John had said it tended to stick. She’d taken him at his word. Why would he lie to her? She was his kitten, kept safe in his cabin. His secret. She liked being his secret. His special one.
The front door still beckoned. Was it locked? Was he keeping her there, locked inside? Or did the doorknob simply stick?
She was sober, her mind unsettlingly clear for the first time in a while. She didn’t have to stay that way. There was beer in the fridge—plenty of it. He’d left a bottle of whiskey in the cupboard, too. If she wanted to get drunk, it wouldn’t take long. She could drown her doubts. Stop worrying. Enjoy her little cabin in the woods. Enjoy being safe.
But was she safe?
And what was going on back home?
She didn’t want to care what her parents thought—didn’t want to think about whether they were worried. When she’d left, she’d assumed it wouldn’t take long for them to give up looking for her. How much did they even love her, anyway? They treated her like garbage. She was an adult. It wasn’t like they could control her anymore.
But the more time that went by, the more she thought about them, and her friends back home, wondering if they missed her.
John had told her people were looking for her. Had they stopped? Would she become another Tilikum tall tale? A hundred years from now, would people tell the story of Brielle Thayer and how she went missing, never to be seen or heard from again?
Maybe she should ask John to let her call her parents. Just so they’d know she was somewhere safe.
But what if he said no? What would that mean?
And what if the door really was locked?
There was only one way to find out.
She marched over to the door and grabbed the handle. It wiggled but wouldn’t turn. Her heart sank. Had John locked her in? Why would he do that?
But as she kept turning it back and forth, it seemed to give a little. She pulled up and in, trying to loosen the door from the frame.
The knob turned. She had to push hard, but it opened.
Cold air rushed into the toasty cabin, making her shiver and the hairs on her arms and neck stand on end. The forest outside was wet but the sky was clear.
She wasn’t locked in. She could leave whenever she wanted. It really had just been a stuck door this whole time.
Leaving the door open, she ran up to the loft, taking the stairs two at once. She grabbed her hoodie and went back down, stepping outside and shutting the door behind her.
The outside world seemed strangely big and ominous. How long had she been inside? She’d lost track of time. She wasn’t even sure what day it was.
