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Jane’s brain skipped and stuttered as she tried to process what was going on. This was beyond surreal. It was worse than any true crime story she’d ever read. This kind of thing didn’t happen to nice girls who kept to themselves. It wasn’t fair. It couldn’t be happening. It just simply could not be happening.
Brenda continued, “My husband is a sex maniac, as you might have noticed.” She flashed a grin, as if this was a good thing. “He can never get enough, and that’s fine with me. He’s the brawn and I’m the brain in our relationship. Me, I like mind games. I like control and discipline. I get off on delivering pain.” She smiled almost apologetically. “What can I say?” she added with a shrug. “It’s just the way I’m hardwired.”
“Please,” Jane blurted, unable to help herself. “This is so crazy. It makes no sense. You can’t just keep someone in a cage in your basement! This is all a big mistake. Just let me go.”
Brenda’s face was darkening with anger as Jane tried to make her see reason. She knew it was probably futile, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She had to at least try to appeal to the woman’s reason, if she had any.
“I swear I’ll never say a word to anyone,” Jane continued desperately. “You can’t possibly keep me here. People will be looking for me. I—”
“Shut the fuck up!” Brenda shouted, her face twisting with rage.
Terrified, Jane shrank back in her cage, suddenly glad for the bars that separated them.
“You will not speak unless spoken to, cunt. Got that?”
Cunt. What a mean, nasty word, especially the way Brenda spat it out. Jane almost opened her mouth to protest, but instead bit down on her lower lip to keep quiet. The woman was insane. Perhaps murderously insane. Somehow, Jane managed to nod.
In a calmer voice, though still laced with venom, Brenda continued, “You need to get over it, Jane. Stop all this whining and moaning. It’s giving me a headache. This is your life now. I don’t want to hear you complaining. I don’t want to hear you begging to be set free or any of that shit. You keep that up and I’ll make you wish you’d never been born. Is that clear?”
Jane stared at her in pure horror.
“Answer me,” Brenda snapped.
Jane forced herself to nod.
“Yes, ma’am,” Brenda shouted. “You speak when spoken to, and you reply ‘Yes, ma’am,’ when I give you a directive.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jane managed to repeat through jaws that were clenched so tight with fear and fury she could barely speak .
Brenda stood up, the anger all at once draining away from her face. “All right, then,” she said, flashing a smile. “You hungry, kiddo?”
The woman was clearly nuts. But the question awoke Jane’s stomach, which growled. She hadn’t had anything to eat since her sandwich at lunch, which now seemed a lifetime ago.
Brenda tapped her foot impatiently, her face darkening again.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jane replied quickly.
“You like ice cream?”
It had to be a trick question, but Jane couldn’t think what the trick might be. While she’d never particularly gone in for sweets, she needed to take whatever sustenance was offered. “Yes, ma’am,” she repeated.
“We’ve got mango sherbet or chocolate fudge ripple. You pick.”
I pick that the ground opens up and swallows you whole, you fucking nutbag.
“Mango,” Jane said aloud.
“Mango it is. But first, you need to be in proper position to eat it.”
Brenda reached for the lock. She twirled the dial to the right, twice to the left and once right again, releasing the lock.
Jane held her breath. If they let her out, maybe, somehow, she could get herself free.
Brenda opened the cage door. Before Jane could react, she gripped Jane’s upper arm and dragged her out onto the concrete floor. She pointed to the exercise mat. “Crawl to the mat and sit on it. Don’t try any funny business or you’ll be sorry.”
Who was she kidding? What funny business could Jane possibly try with this big, hulking woman standing over her? With no choice, Jane crawled to the mat and sat on it. She drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them as she watched her captor. At least the padded mat was more comfortable than the hard floor.
Brenda selected a coil of thin rope from a hook on the wall and returned, squatting in front of Jane. “Get on your knees and put your hands behind your back,” she ordered.
Jane briefly considered tackling the woman, but knew even as the thought occurred to her that she wouldn’t have a chance. Even if she wasn’t dizzy from shock and whatever they’d drugged her with, Brenda had easily six inches and fifty pounds on her. Not to mention, Robert might be waiting just out of sight, or watching them through that ceiling camera.
