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Hannah felt sick to her stomach. All the assistants. All the girls she and Elliott and everyone else in the office figured had left because he was such a demanding boss. All the girls that she had figured ran off because Elliott screwed them and tossed them aside. All those girls were scared off by the very person who hired them. Sally.
"But not you. No. You harlot. Got one taste of him and you wanted more and more and more. But you didn't deserve him," she spat, walking toward Hannah so quickly that Hannah wondered if she planned on smacking her. "I have been there from the beginning. I have been the one to stand by his side. See to his needs. Help him. Guide him. I'm the one he should be with!"
Hannah watched with growing concern as Sally paced, looking at the floor, mumbling only half-coherently.
She was crazy. A screw had come loose somewhere in Sally's brain. And her life was in this madwoman's hands.
"You probably thought it was so funny. You got the rich guy to fall for your young kitty."
Hannah almost snorted at Sally's word for vagina. It was so infantile. So old-world. Who spoke like that?
"But heisonly a man. He has needs. Sexual needs. You were just a washrag to him you know."
She looked up at Hannah as if annoyed at her silence. Then she reached out, grabbed an edge of the duct tape and ripped it savagely off. A yelp escaped Hannah's mouth, feeling like the skin had been torn off her face.
"He's going to end up with me. Not you. Not you. You just wait and see," she said, turning and flying up the stairs.
Hannah sucked in a long held breath. Sally had been right. She wasn't someone she would have suspected. Sally was... Hannah half-sighed, half-laughed... Sally was just too old for someone like Elliott.
But the woman was clearly delusional. Unstable. And her life was in her hands. Hannah went to work again at her binds, crying and cursing as the porcelain dug deeper into her palms and the skin at her wrists finally gave up and broke. She could feel blood run down her palms and drip off her fingertips.
Time passed, a merciless silence wrapped itself around her as she struggled to break free. It must have been hours. She felt like she had been there for days.
The door flew open again and Hannah stilled the motion of her hands, tried to look innocent, scared.
"See?" Sally said, finally coming into view and Hannah's mouth dropped open. "See, now he will want me."
"Oh, my God," Hannah said, her voice too small to be heard.
There was Sally, her usual straw-like blonde hair dyed black and straightened mercilessly like Hannah's. And, Hannah realized feeling sick, she was wearing her clothes. The shirt James had sent her when she had spilled coffee on her's.
"I was so mad when he gave you this shirt," Sally said, making Hannah's heart jump. Elliott? Elliott had sent her the shirt? "It looked awful on you with those big ... breasts," she spat the word like it was a curse. "It looks much better on me don't you think?" her eyes shot up to Hannah's. "I asked you a question."
"Yes," Hannah's voice came out, crushed as if she had been strangled, "much better on you. Elliott will love it."
A satisfied smile spread across Sally's face.
Hannah tried to focus. Tell her what she wanted to hear. Placate her. Do whatever you have to do to keep her from getting angry. Hannah's mind raced with the advice of a dozen television shows about kidnapping.
Sally's hand reached up to play with her hair. Hannah could still smell the chemicals from the dye clinging to her. "I'm not a fan of this color. I had gotten used to the blonde. I dyed it that way after he married that Dan woman. He never noticed," she said, her eyes looking angry, hurt.
"He never cared about Dan," Hannah supplied, hoping it was the right thing to say.
"Just wanted him for his money," Sally agreed, rolling her eyes. "Men can be so blind sometimes. But I hear they finally signed the papers this morning," Sally said, almost to herself. "He gave her everything she wanted. Just to get her out of his life once and for all." Then a weird look crossed her face. "For you. He wanted her out for you. You. You stupid whore!"
She ran at her then and Hannah helplessly pulled on her hands. The duct tape had rolled up but was still tight. With one last savage pull, she felt it dig into her wrists and one of her hands slip free. She pulled her arms from around her back with a cry of pain, but Sally was already there, slamming her against the beam.
Her head hit with a sickening thud and she felt her vision flash in and out, and her body sinking toward the floor. But then there were hands at her neck. Tight. Impossibly tight. She felt sick. Her throat constricting. She reached out her hands, grabbing at Sally's face, scratching her skin. Hannah had the satisfaction of hearing Sally cry out in pain but her hands gripped tighter and Hannah could feel herself getting lightheaded. Her thumbs found Sally's eyes and she pressed. Pressed.
And she screamed, releasing her hold on Hannah.
She tried to run. Stumbled backward a few times. But then Sally was back again. Her fists swung out, catching Hannah on the jaw and sending her toward the floor. She hit the cement hard but she pulled herself upward, trying to scramble back. She was so close to the steps. She just needed to get to the steps.
Then all she heard was screaming. Blood-curdling, savage wild animal screaming. She realized that it was coming from her. She was screaming for help. Screaming and screaming. Because out of the tiny rectangle windows she could see blue and red lights flashing.
Someone had found her.
Then Sally crashed down on top of her, grabbing her face on both sides. Hannah's arms went up, grabbing Sally's. But then Sally slammed her face backward. She had a second to realize her head was about to be bashed on the floor before it was and there was nothing else.
