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Looking to the left, I notice another door. Pushing away from the wall, I quickly open it and find a small, private toilet room inside. Locking myself inside, I make quick work of using the restroom before making my way back out into the main part of the bathroom.
Without really thinking, I start stripping out of my clothing, leaving them in a trail across the floor as I make my way toward the shower. It takes me a good two minutes to figure out the digital dial on the shower wall before the water ticks on. It rains down from the overhead showerhead like my own personal rain cloud and I waste no time slipping under the warm stream of water, trying to find comfort.
I find shampoo, conditioner, and body wash on the built-in shelf along the back wall of the shower. As I wash and rinse my hair and then my body, I do my best to ignore the fact that they are the same kind I have at home.
He said he was watching me.
I’m starting to realize that he didn’t just mean tailing me in my car. Given that he got my toiletries down to the exact scent, I’d say with complete certainty that at some point he was inside my house.
The thought causes a shiver to run down my spine.
By the time I reemerge from the shower several minutes later, the glass door is completely fogged and the entire room is filled with thick steam. I litter the floor with water droppings as I search for towels, finally finding them tucked underneath the vanity.
Wrapping one around my hair and the other around my body, I crack the bathroom door open, making sure the bedroom is empty before padding out into the room in search of clothes. He said he stocked the wardrobe. I assume that means there are clothes inside.
Pulling open the top drawer of the adjoining dresser, I find several sets of bras and underwear, all brand new with tags, all in my size. Grabbing a basic black set, I push the drawer closed and open the second, finding it contains a few sets of pajamas – some shorts, some pants, all with matching tops.
I pull out the set on top, a plaid pair of shorts and a solid red tank, then close the drawer with my hip.
I dress in the bathroom, brushing the wet tangles from my hair with my fingers as I look over the array of products on the vanity in front of me. Deodorant, toothpaste, mouthwash, floss, a new toothbrush, lotion, tampons. There’s even a pair of tweezers and fingernail clippers. It’s like he didn’t miss a thing, and as much as I want to be grateful for this, I can’t wrap my head around how I could be grateful to that man for anything.
I return to the bedroom several minutes later, my gaze sliding to the plate of food on the night stand. As hungry as I should be, the thought of eating makes me feel nauseous. I don’t even bother to look at what’s on the plate before climbing back into bed.
I lie flat on my back, looking around the windowless room as I continue to try to wrap my head around my current predicament. Never in a million years did I think something like this would happen to me. You hear stories about people going missing, but like most things, you believe you are immune to such horrors. But that’s not how life works. It doesn’t pick and choose who the bad things happen to. They just happen.
I roll to my side, hugging my knees to my chest as I attempt to keep the panic from boiling to the surface again.
I’m scared. Of course I am. But I need to keep it together. No matter what happens, I have to keep myself calm. I have to pay attention. And the first chance I get, I have to get the hell out of here. No matter what it takes.
——
I’M STARTLED FROM SLEEPby the bite of cold metal against my wrist. Without warning, my body is tugged upward and my eyes shoot open to see Mateo hovering over me as I hear the click of the handcuff, again securing my right hand to the bed.
“What the...” I cringe as I pull against the restraint, my wrist still not fully healed. My eyes shoot down as another cuff is snapped around my right ankle and only then do I notice the one already secured around my left.
“Three days,” he says, his voice thick with anger. “You’ve been here three days and Niko tells me you haven’t touched a bite of the food that’s been brought to you.” He straightens, looking down at me.
Niko. Finally a name to put to the only face I’ve seen for what I now know has been three days. It’s hard to keep track of time when you’re locked in a room with no clock or windows. And while I have yet to be physically harmed up to this point, the isolation alone feels like some form of sick torture.
“So what’s your plan? Starve yourself?” He crosses around the other side of the bed, a fourth cuff dangling from his fingertips.
“It’s better than the alternative,” I bite out bitterly, my throat painfully dry.
“Maybe that’s because you haven’t seen how bad the alternative can be.” He roughly grabs my left hand.
“Let me go.” I fight against the restraints holding me in place, but it does me no good. I have no energy, not that I would have the strength to pull myself out of handcuffs even if I did. I tried that with only one hand restrained and all I ended up doing was tearing the hell out of my skin.
“I told you. I don’t play games.” He snaps the restraint around my left wrist before securing it to the bed frame.
“I’m not playing games. I’m not hungry.” My voice trembles as my heart pounds violently against my ribs.
“Bullshit. You’re being defiant on purpose. Guess it’s time you learn that you’re not the one calling the shots here... I am.” He turns, grabbing a sandwich off the plate of food sitting on the nightstand. It wasn’t there before, so he must have brought it in with him while I was sleeping.
It’s true, Ihaverefused to eat. At first I left the food untouched. But after the fourth or fifth plate of food, I let my anger get the better of me and I threw it at the door right as Niko closed it.
“Now eat.” He holds the sandwich to my mouth and tries to force feed me.
“I’m not hungry,” I repeat, my tone stronger this time as I turn my face away from the sandwich.
