Page 34 of Letters From Hell

A couple of hours ago, I woke up in the backseat of his car.

It had a child lock on it, and I couldn’t open the door and jump out of the car, even if I wanted to. And I really, really wanted to jump out to my death rather than being stuck with him for longer. I pretended to be asleep, and as soon as he opened the door for me, I ran outside and straight into the cabin.

I cussed myself because I couldn’t access my room. He couldn’t move the dresser that kept the door shut, or rather, he didn’t want to. His room, the other big room, had a lock. For a while, I was lying on the floor, still in the clothes that the men had given me, with blood on my knees and lower part of my legs.

I barely breathed.

I didn’t do anything.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream.

I just lay on the carpet, feeling dead on the inside. The shock was still there, and all I could do was replay the image of Jack dying, his sons laying in pools of their own blood because of me. And it was no one's fault but my own.

I forced myself off the floor, only then realizing the state I was in. The blood made me shiver, and immediately, I ran towards Micah’s closet to grab a set of spare clothes. It was the only option I had, and no matter how much I hated it, I had to take a shower and then put on his clothes.

But what I despised even more was how good his clothes smelled.

Not only that, but the fact that I noticed the scent in the midst of all the chaos made me wonder. Perhaps, it wasn’t him who was insane. Perhaps, it was me. Not a single sane person would react like this, and just how my brain was rejecting these thoughts, my body was embracing them.

The shower didn’t relax me. The boiling water felt good against my numb skin, bringing back warmth I lost in the blizzard. I used to take hour-long showers. It was the only part of the day when I had enough time to relax my mind from all the schoolwork and that damn writer's block.

Now, it felt like the worst chore in the world. I finished up quickly, ignoring the tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach when I used his shampoo and body wash. I did my best not to allow my mind to wander, but it was futile.

My mind was my worst enemy.

‘‘You look good.’’

The train of thought vanished, my eyes locked on him. ‘‘Good?’’

‘‘You had another man’s clothes on you. I don’t like it.’’

I laughed. It wasn’t on purpose — it slipped out. ‘‘You don’t like it? You killed that man. You really have no morals, do you?’’

‘‘Morals?’’ He chuckled. ‘‘I do have morals, love. And it’s precisely my morals you should fear.’’

That whole sentence was as if he’d thrown a bucket of ice water over my head. Shivers ran down my spine, sudden coldness washed over me. He wasn’t kidding. He was as serious as ever, and I didn’t want to know just what those morals were.

‘‘Get out,’’ I whispered, placing my head on my knees, avoiding eye contact.

‘‘This is my room, Bambi,’’ he stated. ‘‘I don’t think I should be the one to leave.’’

I didn’t respond.

Getting into an argument with him when he was clearly in a foul mood was a bad idea. I was stupid, which I’d proven over and over again ever since I saw him in prison, but not that ignorant to the point of provoking a lion in its den.

‘‘Then, I’ll leave,’’ I announced, but my body didn’t listen.

It was late. It was definitely past midnight, and I was feeling sleepy. However, I couldn’t allow myself to fall asleep with this man under the same roof as me. I escaped. I did exactly what he told me not to do, and there had to be a consequence or two.

‘‘No need,’’ he said. ‘‘We can just sleep in the same bed, Bambi. It’s bound to happen sooner or later.’’

‘‘What?’’

Slowly, Micah approached me.

He was walking until he reached the side of the bed and sat next to me. Immediately, I scooted over until I almost fell off the edge of the bed on the other side. There was not much space between us, not as much as I’d like it to be.

Running away again was on the sidelines, for now. With no plan, and the blizzard that showed no indication of stopping anytime soon, I had nowhere to go. I’d die before I reach the resorts that are on the opposite side of the gas station, and even then, I didn’t want Micah killing anyone else. I didn’t want to feel this overwhelming guilt again.

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