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“Okay,” I repeated, nodding.
Of course I was going to make a scene. You never go with a psycho to a second location. Except no one was behind the counter, no one sat on the sad, lumpy couch in the lobby, and before I could let out a scream, Donny shoved me into the stairwell, his hands wrapped around my throat.
“You think you’re so clever, Theresa,” he snarled. “Do you want me to break your neck right here?”
He squeezed so tightly, tiny lights began sparking in my peripheral vision. I shook my head. I did not want him to break my neck.
With one hand in a vice grip around the back of my neck, he shoved me ahead of him up the stairs. On the third floor, he reached around and cracked the door open to look down the hall.
He pushed me forward again, his breath hot on my throat. “Remember what I said about keeping quiet.” His hand slid around my waist and up my chest, groping at my breasts. “Don’t push your luck, Theresa. You might piss me off enough to turn me on.”
I rammed my elbow backwards into his gut and twisted out of his disgusting grasp. I jumped for the stairs, taking three at a time, not caring if I tumbled all the way down as long as I got as far from him as possible. My head jerked back as a searing pain radiated through my scalp. He whirled me around and slapped me hard across the cheek. With his hand in my hair, he dragged me back up to the landing. I barely felt the pain in my cheek or my head, I was so full of terror at what he was going to do once I was locked in his room.
We got to the end of the hall to a door with the do not disturb sign hanging jauntily off the handle. Even through my fear I noted it was room 327, as if that might be helpful. Maybe I could get to the desk phone in there? I had to cling to any small shred of hope that I’d find a way to get help.
Inside, the room was dark and windowless, the bed unmade, and a stale odor of old beer and unwashed bodies made my nausea decide to come back. Without bothering to turn on any lights, he yanked me to the bathroom and flung open the door. I gasped, seeing my mother tied up in a heap in the bathtub, her face, chest and arms a mass of bruises and cuts, her revealing nightgown in tatters. She was pale and lay so still, I feared she might be dead. Rushing forward to check on her, the door slammed behind me. I whirled, grateful to be away from Donny, but furious once more that he’d gotten me so easily into his trap.
My mother groaned softly, and my breath released in a gust of relief. No, of course I didn’t want her dead. She was an awful mother, but she was my awful mother. And as mad as I’d been at her not too long ago, I never wanted to see her like this. I pulled at the rough rope bindings, careful not to jostle her too much in case any of her bones were broken. With the state of her, I didn’t know how they couldn’t be.
“Theresa?” she mumbled, her eyes flying open but unable to focus. “Oh God, no. He found you.”
“Stupid bastard tricked me,” I admitted quietly. “Made me think he was broken-hearted over you.”
My lionhearted mother snickered, then groaned when the slight movement caused her pain. “He’s an idiot. I’m an idiot.”
“With your taste in men, I’m surprised this hasn’t happened sooner,” I told her.
“Don’t make me laugh, sweetie.”
I got the rope off her wrists, but she was too weak to try to stretch, only let her hands flop to her side. I began to work on her ankles, listening as Donny blocked the door from outside.
“I hate that little snot,” she whispered, glancing at the door with fear in her eyes.
Seeing such emotion on my mother increased my own fear. We both flinched when he pounded once on the door. “If you make a peep I’ll come in and slit Giana’s throat and then yours,” he said. “All you have to do is be quiet until my father arrives.”
I stood up and began to appeal to him through the door. “You said you just wanted a cushy life, right? We have plenty of money. You see how much we rake in with every art show. Let us go, Donny. We can work something out.”
“Theresa,” my mom whispered hoarsely from the tub. “Just be quiet.”
I ignored her desperate plea. I couldn’t let him keep us locked up in here until someone possibly worse than him showed up, not with the state my mother was in. I opened my mouth and let out a shrill, piercing cry for help. Someone had to hear me. We couldn’t be alone on this floor.
My mother laboriously hoisted herself up, grabbing for me. “Shut up,” she moaned.
Whatever he barred the door with on the other side got shoved away with a clatter. Donny burst in, glancing up at the corner of the ceiling, then glared at my mother, who slid back into the tub and covered her face. I flew into him, hitting him in the side of the head and trying to tear his greasy hair out. I tried to get my thumbs into his eye sockets, but he slammed me back into the wall, gripping my hair and pounding my head backwards until I slumped against him. Tossing me to the ground, I hit my head again on the toilet tank on the way down. Completely dazed, all I could do was try to crawl away from him as he loomed over me.
“I said to be quiet.” He slapped me, looking once again toward the ceiling. Barely able to focus I followed his gaze and finally went completely still. A camera was mounted in the corner, a green light glowing to show it was recording. Ice seemed to replace the blood in my veins.
“Oh my God. What is that for?”
He slapped me again. “Do you just not understand what quiet means?”
“Leave her alone, please,” my mother whimpered from the tub.
“Shut the fuck up, Giana.” He turned his attention toward her.
“I’ll be quiet,” I whispered urgently.
He pulled me up to a sitting position, leaning against the wall. “Smile for the camera,” he said, tearing open my dress and yanking it off my shoulders. “We’ll give them more of a show when I get back. Now, remember what I said. Not a squeak out of you.”
