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The only thing to keep me warm is the blanket and the two pillows that were down here from before. The book remained here as well, but my mind is too scrambled to even attempt to read. Plus, my constant crying would make it hard to see the words.
The tears slip freely from my eyes and down my cheeks, leaving wet tracks behind. It was a mistake to think I could go into that office and make a phone call without him knowing.
I knew it was a trap, knew he was testing me, and I still did it. But I had to try, and I did, but unfortunately, I didn’t succeed. Another shiver wracks my body, and I shake like a leaf in the wind. The cold down here isn’t normal. It pierces your insides, making it impossible for the warmth to ever return.
At least he left the light on, but that was only after I begged and pleaded with him. I felt so weak doing so, but the thought of being in the dark for days, I couldn’t fathom it.
Sighing, I bite the inside of my cheek to stop my lips from trembling. However, it doesn’t stop my teeth from chattering. Curling up on the two pillows, I wrap the blanket tightly around my body and let my eyes drift closed. I’m exhausted, so exhausted. I’ve barely slept while down here, and I don’t think I will be able to until my body completely shuts down.
I know whenever sleep comes, it won’t be restful. Time seems to drag on when you’re cold. Eventually, I stop sobbing, and my entire body becomes numb to my surroundings.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but I feel myself sinking into a fitful sleep when the sound of approaching footfalls meets my ears.
My eyes flutter open and my heart jumps in my chest. Suddenly, I’m awake again, my eyes darting around the cell. Is it time for food again? Is he coming to let me out? It’s false hope since I know there is no way he will bring me upstairs, but I want to think he will because it makes me feel better and gives me a sliver of warmth when nothing else does.
The door creaks open a moment later, and Markus appears on the other side. His entire face is cloaked in a mask of complete darkness. A shudder works its way down my spine as a new kind of coldness washes over me.
I notice then that his hands are empty, which means he is not here to bring me food.
Markus is watching me like a predator watches its prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Unsure if I should say anything, I remain quiet and unmoving. It’s like I’m seeing a side of him I’ve never seen before, and if I’m not careful, I won’t survive.
My stomach tightens into a ball of nervous knots. My entire body trembles, and I’m struck with terror. I’ve never been more afraid of Markus than I am right now.
What’s he going to do to me?
As soon as he’s close enough, I can smell it. The distinct smell of alcohol sticks to him like a second skin—bourbon with subtle undertones of cinnamon and cloves. I want to push off the wall and rush into his arm and breathe in his scent, to bury my face into his chest and let his warmth seep into me, but I don’t move.
Rigid like a stone, I remain staring forward.
“Go use the bathroom.” His words are a little slurred, but not nearly as much as I figured they would be since his entire body is swaying. Is he going to be able to stay on his feet?
I get up and follow him to the bathroom, where I do my business quickly. I’m not sure about what to do. Should I try to use him being drunk to my advantage? Could I overpower him like that? Or at least outrun him? I just need enough time to make that stupid phone call. But that’s exactly what I thought the other night too.
“Hurry,” his deep voice booms through the door, making me jump.
When I exit the bathroom, he is leaning against the wall like he needs its support.
“I knew I never should’ve trusted you. You’re nothing but a toy to me. Or maybe a pet, a misbehaving pet.” His words cut through me like a dull knife.
This is the most he has spoken to me in days, and the hatred in his voice hurts more than I like to admit. He’s still angry over my betrayal, and I understand why. We were headed somewhere better, and now… now we are headed nowhere.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” I really wish he didn’t. Despite all of this, there is a part of me that wants him to like me, and not just out of survival instinct. “Can I have something to wear, please?” I dare to ask.
