I won't lie. I lost it for a few minutes, maybe longer. The dumbwaiter was made for trays of food and laundry baskets. Not a fully grown adult. My knees were jammed into my chest, my arms held to my sides. I tried kicking, but my feet only made low thuds against the solid wood and metal interior of the dumbwaiter. Slamming my elbows into the walls had the same effect.
Sucking in a deep breath, I screamed as loud as I could. "Help! Help! Get me out of here!"
I screamed for a while.
No one answered.
There was no comforting lurch of the dumbwaiter starting back up. No shouts coming up the shaft. Nothing but silence and infinite darkness.
ChapterThirty-Five
PARKER
Lightheaded from my screams, I drew in another deep breath, trying to calm down. Someone was going to find me. Someone would hear. Feeling around the tight box, I found an inch wide gap along one end, and felt warm air moving against my fingertips, air from the shaft of the dumbwaiter. I wasn't going to suffocate.
Wiggling my hand down to my hip, I felt for my phone. Too late, I remembered I'd left it on my desk. I was only running the box of packages down to my car. I didn't need my phone for that. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to breathe, tried to think. It was mid-morning. Nash's meeting wouldn't be done until noon, at least.
I had hours until anyone would miss me. Hours. In this tight, dark box. In this tight, dark,hotbox. The air from the shaft would keep me from suffocating, but it was warm, maybe from the motor that powered the dumbwaiter. Drops of sweat gathered under my arms and along my spine, dripping, soaking into my sundress.
Hours of waiting for Nash to notice I was missing, and then how long until they found me? Heartstone Manor was tens of thousands of square feet. Hawk would be able to tell them I hadn't left the house, but that didn't narrow it down much. I was going to be stuck in here for hours and hours and hours if I didn't do something.
I went back to screaming, calling out until I was hoarse and pouring sweat, my dress sticking to my skin, my throat on fire. Nothing. No movement. No response. Just more endless dark and silence. I let my forehead drop to my knees, trying not to think about the heat, my cramping hips, and the insatiable need to stretch out my legs.
I drifted for a while, dreaming of water, of moving, of cool air and freedom. How long had I been stuck? I couldn't tell. An hour? Two? Surely not longer. I might have fallen asleep. It was so hot, the air heavy, humid from my own sweat. So dark. So quiet.
A few times I opened my eyes, not sure how long had passed, and gave a half-hearted attempt to kick and scream, to catch someone's attention. There was never a response, and I drifted off again. And again. I think. I wasn't sure if I fell asleep, or I was just lost in the dark.
Time stretched. It was hard to think. I cried at some point, hot tears only making everything worse, but it hurt not to move and it was so hot. I was drifting again when I heard them. Voices. So faint in the dumbwaiter, but they must have been shouting, wherever they were, for me to hear them. Voices. If I could hear them, maybe...
I went wild, kicking and screeching with everything I had left, my wails those of a desperate animal gone feral. My elbows spiked with pain every time I slammed them into the metal walls of the dumbwaiter, but I didn't stop. Time had become liquid, stretching forever, just like the darkness. This might be my only chance.
I only got louder as the faint hum of vibration shook the walls around me. Movement. I was moving. As if whoever had hit the call button might stop, I begged, "Please, please, please let me out." It didn't occur to me that the man who'd put me in here might have pressed the button. I just wanted out. At any cost.
The dumbwaiter came to a stop, and the door slid open, fresh cool air swirling around my sweat soaked body. I started to shake, blinking into the bright light blinding me. Arms reached in and I heard a voice further away.
Savannah. "Get down to the lower level pantry. We just pulled Parker out of the dumbwaiter. I don't know how long she was in there, but she doesn't look good."
Strong arms hooked around my back and under my knees, dragging me from the hot metal box. "Shh, I've got you, Parks. I've got you."
Finn. My brother Finn. Only a year older than me, Finn had always been distant. Reserved. Rebellious and angry when I worked so hard to be perfect. I never would have guessed Finn would be the one to cradle me to his chest and whisper, "I've got you, Parks. I promise. Everything is okay. I've got you."
I sobbed into Finn's shirt, still blinking against the light, my head spinning, my body shaking with tremors. A cool hand touched my forehead, and I flinched.
"Do you have her?" Savannah asked. A grunt from above in the affirmative. "She's so hot." Another cool touch. "Not enough for heatstroke, but from the way she's shaking, I think she has heat exhaustion. Poor baby."
Savannah disappeared, then returned and pressed something into my ear. Not back to myself, eyes stinging and my throat too sore to talk, I jerked my head away.
"Shh, honey," Finn murmured, "let her take your temperature, okay? We just need to see how bad off you are."
The thermometer beeped. "102 degrees. Not heat stroke, I don't think, but we need to get her cooled down."
Pounding feet approached, voices raised.
Nash's voice hit my ears, and I tried to raise my head, so dizzy, but I wanted Nash. I loved Finn for saving me, for holding me, but I wanted Nash.
"Parker!" He took me from Finn. "What the fuck happened to her?" he demanded.
Savannah took charge. "We don't know. We were in here, arguing about the cook's spices, and we heard sounds coming from the dumbwaiter. I called it down, and we found Parker inside. I took her temp and I don't think she has heat stroke, but you need to get her cooled down before it gets any worse."
