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I jump up from my seat at the bar. “I’m going to take a shower,” I tell the group.
No one actually pays any attention to me except for Mia. She looks at me with a worried expression.
After gathering my clothes, I walk into the bathroom and turn the shower on. Even though I have an urge to take one of my blistering-hot showers, I promised Jaxon I wouldn’t. Yes, I feel dirty again because of Steven but this isn’t about me, it’s about Anna. I have to stay strong.
After washing my hair and scrubbing down my body, I get out and dry off. Just before I get dressed my phone dings to indicate an incoming text. Quickly snatching it off the counter and hoping it’s from Jaxon, I bring up my text app.
My shoulders slump when I realize it’s not Jaxon, but tense up when I see it’s a picture text from an unknown number. Nothing has ever gone well for me when an unknown number pops up.
With shaking fingers, I push the button to download the picture. It feels like it takes ten minutes to download but I know it’s only been a few seconds. When the picture finally appears on the screen, I almost drop to my knees at what I see.
It’s Anna, but it’s not. What once was the beautiful, spirited, carefree girl is now a beaten and bloody mess. The picture is of just her face. I can see bruises, cuts, and burn marks all along her cheeks, eyes, chin, and forehead. Her hair is matted and strands of it fall on her face. A sick feeling forms in my stomach when I see a whitish substance smudged on her cheeks and lips. Her eyes are barely open and look lifeless.
“Oh Anna, I’m so sorry,” I whisper to no one. A sob escapes my throat. I know that if she makes it out of this alive, she’ll never be the same again. I knew what Steven is capable of, but I had hoped, prayed, that it wouldn’t come to this.
Another ding sounds from my phone and I frantically push the button to pull up a new text. The next series of texts has me shaking so hard I can barely hold my phone.
Unknown: If you want her to stay alive then do what I say.
Me: What do you want?
Unknown: You know what I want, my pet.
I do know what he wants. Me. As much as I don’t want to go to him, I have no choice. I have to get Anna out of there. My body and mind are used to Steven’s form of torture; Anna’s isn’t. From the looks of her in the picture, she’s barely hanging on. I would do anything to get her away from him, even sacrifice myself. That’s what family and friends do.
Taking a deep breath, I send my next text.
Me: Where?
Unknown: There’s an old hunting lodge off Route 14. Delete these messages and the picture, and leave your phone. Tell no one and come alone. You have one hour.
Me: Okay. Please don’t hurt her anymore.
Unknown: If I find you haven’t followed my directions, me and my friend here will continue to have our fun with Anna. I can’t promise how much more she can handle.
Me: Okay.
As soon as I send the last text I delete the messages and the picture. I have to find a way to get out of the house without alerting anyone.
A knock sounds at the door and I hear Mia’s voice through it. “Bailey, are you okay in there?”
Knowing that I have to put on the performance of a lifetime, I push my arms into the robe that’s hanging on a hook, compose my face as best as I can, and crack open the door.
I force my lips into a small smile. “Yes, I’m fine. I lost track of time while I was in the shower. Has there been any word?”
She eyes me suspiciously for a few seconds before replying, “No.”
We stand there watching each other with the door barely open between us. The air from the bedroom seeps inside the warm bathroom and gives me chills, reminding me I’m still in my robe. An idea forms in my head.
“I’m going to run out to the garage and grab my bag that has my fresh clothes. We left them out there the other night when we got home,” I tell her, hoping she won’t question me.
“I can get them for you,” she says, and starts to walk off.
Thinking quickly, I grab her arm through the crack to stop her. “No, please. I’ll get it. I was wondering if you could make me a sandwich. With everything that’s happened lately I haven’t been eating much, and I’m starting to get a little shaky.”
Just in time to prove my point, my fingers begin to shake on her arm, but not from lack of food. They're shaking because of what I’m about to do. I silently send a prayer to God that Mia believes me.
Just before I start to fidget and probably reveal my nerves, Mia gives me a nod and walks off toward the bedroom door.
