Page 69 of Lock Me Inside


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By the time I finish detailing everything that went on last night, including when James tried to break into my room, the sun has risen. My fingers are stiff from all the typing—more than I’ve ever done all at once before, but I feel good. Like, somehow, telling the story puts me back in control, at least a little.

That good feeling evaporates at the click of the lock. I turn in my chair, holding my breath. What is it this time? Who is it?

“Hey.” Colt’s carrying a plate in one hand and a bottle of juice tucked under his arm. “I thought you’d be hungry. Figured you wouldn’t want to come down if you didn’t have to.”

“Yeah. Good call.” How can he act like anything between us is even remotely normal? What has to be wrong with a person that they’re able to do that? He and Nix, both.

I don’t have it in me to ask, and I’m too hungry to waste time with questions, anyway.

The toasted bagel sits next to three dollops on the plate: butter, jelly, and cream cheese. A banana and a cup of yogurt round out the meal. I immediately slather the cream cheese and jelly on the bagel and take a big bite. It never occurred to me to wonder if they put anything in the food. Right now, I’m not even sure I care anymore. Whatever they do to me while I’m unconscious, they’re going to do to me while I’m conscious, too. It’s an illusion to think I have any control over any aspect of it. I would probably do better to get rid of that illusion now.

“You know,” I mumble, my mouth full, “I have to ask myself what’s in this for you. Why are you going out of your way?”

“Is making sure you don’t starve to death going out of my way? It’s not like I cooked you a big meal or anything.” He snickers before giving me a wry smirk. “Believe me. You don’t want me to try to cook for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I peel the banana and take a big bite before the memory of having Colt’s dick in my mouth threatens to sour the entire meal. No. I’m not going to let that happen. I deserve to eat.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I mean, at least physically?”

“Are you actually asking me that question? Or did your father tell you to ask me?”

“You know what, we don’t have to do this.” He starts to stand, but I make a noise that stops him. I don’t even know why I want to stop him. Am I this desperate for human contact? I guess I must be.

“Physically, I’m fine.”

“It’s easier just to give him what he wants.”

“Easier for who? For me, or for you?”

“I said what I said.” He looks at the floor, one knee jiggling up and down a little. “Do you have any tutoring today?”

“No, actually. My schedule was already clear.”

“Okay. I guess just, you know, let me know if you have another session. Don’t want a bunch of kids failing out of middle school because they couldn’t get a math lesson from you.” He glances up for an instant, and our eyes meet. I find myself wanting to grin, and I can’t understand why.

For the first time, I get the feeling that maybe we’re in this together, somehow. Like this isn’t exactly his idea, either, and he would rather not go through this. Maybe it’s better if I don’t think too much about it. Thinking only leads to more questions, which inevitably leads to more anger and outrage. Outrage over this whole thing happening to begin with.

When I’m finished, he takes the plate. “I can bring you lunch later if you want?”

“That would be nice. Thank you.” He nods, quickly turning away and disappearing from the room so suddenly it’s almost like he was never here at all.

I wish I could understand him. I wish I could understand any of this.

But what good has wishing ever done me?

CHAPTER 28

I guess this is going to be a daily thing. I guess I’m supposed to expect to be summoned around the same time every evening, brought down to the basement, and ordered to strip down. Tonight, at least, there was no instruction beyond the demand that I remove my clothes. He didn’t try to direct me through it this time.

And I’m still standing here, just as naked, just as cold and full of dread as before. What is it going to be this time? What has he come up with in that sick brain of his?

He doesn’t keep me waiting long, settling in on one couch while Colt sits down on the one facing it. There’s less space between them now, like James pushed them closer together. I guess he wants to get a good look at what’s happening.

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