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He slams the door shut, leaving me where I lie. “I need to get some supplies to deal with our unexpected guest. Be good while I’m gone,” he says to Lydia, his thin voice infused with cold calm. I listen to him leave, using what little energy I still have to sharpen my senses and make sure he’s gone. It’s difficult to make out over the whimpering tears coming from poor Lydia, but eventually, silence fills the rest of the apartment.
I’m thankful he didn’t decide to off me right then and there. My seething rage cuts through some of the pain and blood loss. He made a mistake not killing me yet. I’m saving Lydia from that monster if it’s the last thing I do.
“Lydia.” My voice comes out in a croak, and she gasps on the other side of the door. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” I try to sound calm as I wriggle inside the closet until I’m upright. Pain stabs into my side any time I move, but if I show any sign of distress, it will only freak the traumatized woman out more.
“W-who are you?”
“I’m Max Pearce. Your wife hired me.”
She gasps again. “You! You’re the reason I’m here. If you hadn’t told her, everything would’ve been alright.” She begins to sob again.
Struggling to pull myself up to standing, I wedge my back up against the corner of the closet and shove up with my legs until they scream in protest. I stumble face forward into the closet door but manage not to fall back down onto the floor or black out again from the pain.
“I was doing my job. I’m sorry.” Normally, I wouldn’t apologize for catching a cheating spouse, but these are extenuating circumstances. “Who is the man who lives here? What did he do for you?”
She makes a noise of protest and I interrupt her before she speaks. “I know you’re angry. You hate me for what I’ve done. But I’m not your enemy. The man who is going to kill us soon is. The more you can tell me about him and the more we work together, the better chance we stand to survive this. You can kick my ass as much as you want once we’re safe.”
Lydia sucks in a shaky inhale. “He’s some kind of d-demon. He approached me at a bar and told me he could help me out of debt. Then he took my blood. Said it tasted like despair. But Kelly still d-didn’t want me back. H-he said he could help with that. He lied.” She shudders out a sob before continuing. “I-I don’t think we’re getting out of here. He’s too powerful. Oh g-gods, we’re going to die.”
Fuck. I’ve heard of demons that feed on despair, but don’t know enough about their powers to consider taking one on in a fight. Especially when I’m already hurt. I change tactics, abandoning more questions about him in favor of keeping her from breaking down too much to help us escape. “Lydia, I need you to focus on what I’m saying and nothing else. You’re tied up, right?”
“Y-yes. He has me tied to a metal chair by my ankles and my hands are bound behind the chair. I can’t pull them loose.”
“Okay, good. Is there a clear path between your chair and the closet door?”
She takes a moment to consider. “I-I think so, but I can’t—”
“Lydia, you can. You need to use your body weight to scoot the chair over to the closet door and turn so you can use your hands behind the chair to open it.”
I wince at the dull scrape of metal against the wood floor and make a silent prayer that the bastard really isn’t here. I hear a few more scrapes, followed by her panting in exertion. “I’m not strong enough,” she whimpers between pained inhales.
“You are. You’re going to do this and get out of here alive, because Kelly needs you. She sent me here to find you because she was terrified that something happened to you. You told that bastard you’d do anything to get her back. Well, this is what you have to do!”
“Oh gods,” she cries and I worry I went too far. But a moment later, there are multiple scrapes that sound much closer, followed by a curse of pain as she thuds against the closet door.
“That’s it! You’re doing so well, Lydia. Almost there and then I can untie you. You just have to open the door.”
She curses again. “There’s a lock on the outside. I can’t reach it. Oh gods, I’m so sorry. I can’t.”
Shit. Time for plan B.
“It’s okay. Is there a clock in the room with you? What time is it?”
“Huh?” She sounds winded and disoriented.
“I need to know what time it is.”
“It’s 1:02 am.”
I’ve been here for more than a day? Gods, I was unconscious a lot longer than I realized.
“Okay, we need to make as much noise as possible. Scream, slam against things, whatever we can.”
“I’ve already tried that! He has a silencing charm on him. He told me about it a-as he h-hurt me.”
“If he’s gone, so is the charm. I know the woman who lives upstairs. We need to do this. If he comes back, I’ll tell him I coerced you. I won’t let you die, Lydia.”
“Oh gods, okay. Okay.” A moment passes, then Lydia lets out a blood-curdling shriek. I add my voice to hers, bellowing out Mona’s name over and over, begging her to hear us.
