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“You’re way too nonchalant about this,” I say, my clean feet dirtied from the mildew floors.
“He’s caught me before. God, it was so hot.” She rolls her eyes.
“Then he definitely wanted you to break out,” I say, thinking back to when he let me press the gun to his head. “He’s a maniac.”
“A hot maniac.” Anabel bites her lip and leads me out of the rundown bedroom.
I hold my nose from the moldy smell. How does such a clean man live like this?
“That’s where he showers.” Anabel points out the window to an outdoor rinsing station. “He doesn’t mind the cold. If I’m being honest, sometimes, when he’s out there, I go to Jane’s room where the pipe leads to outside and play with myself thinking about him.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I laugh.
“I’ll turn him eventually, Sia.” She stops at a door that’s different than the rest. It’s new, and black, and locked. When he first led me through here, I think this is the room where that chained cabinet was tucked away – I recall the gilded birdcage, the clutter surrounding a molding mattress.
“What’s in there?” I ask, wondering if this crazed woman has any answers.
“His fucking shrine.” Anabel scoffs. “The thing holding him back from taking me. I’m going to burn it to the ground. Here, hold this.”
My blood runs cold. This is all wrong.
I stare at the lighter in my grasp as she begins to pick the lock, squealing when the door swings open, revealing the cluttered room with the chained cabinet. She practically pounces on the cabinet, working on one of the many locks, but it won’t budge.
“Dammit.” She seethes and starts yanking on the chain.
“Why do you need me for this, exactly?” I say, my voice quivering. Every time a leaf rustles outside, my head jerks toward the front of the house. If I hear a car rumbling, I’m running for my life back into my palace, and blaming my dirty footsteps on Anabel.
“None of the other girls give a shit. But I think you do. Something tells me you’re not as jaded as them.” Anabel smiles angrily at me as she tries picking the lock again.
I consider whether to help her. Recalling Arnold’s training is something I never would’ve imagined coming to use in my pathetic little life. I just, well, found it hot that he knew so much about survival.
“Anabel, that’s an ultra-lock. You need to rotate counter-clockwise four times, then—”
“Then what?” She grits her teeth while fidgeting. “Dammit.”
The lighter I’m currently holding for the unhinged woman makes me rethink my rogue moment. I decide to walk around the house instead, paying more attention to the surroundings now that I have a minute to drink it all in. The couch cushions barely have an imprint, and I can’t imagine someone getting used to this smell. My hunches drag me toward the back of the house, where a finely kept table, clean boots, and a hanger full of clothes protected by a tarp are set up.
He lives outside, I realize. Then I narrow my eyes when I think of the high-flamed lighter again. Downstairs may be flame retardant, but this rickety wooden shack would go up in a blaze. I crouch to feel the wood. Pieces of it are damp, but most is bone dry.
Even if we’re miles away from civilization, someone would see the fire.
I consider getting all the girls out of the basement and setting a match. Yeah—
“Ah!” Anabel screams her excitement. “I’m in!”
“Oh no.” I rush to stop her.
When I get back to the black door, Anabel is marveling at the open cabinet full of memorabilia. Pictures of a younger Leandro smiling with a woman who resembles me, candles with sweet messages on them, and handwritten cards are littered throughout.
My heart twists at the sight.
I wish someone worshipped me like that. I notice two indents near where Anabel is standing, and I realize they’re from his legs. He’s knelt here so many times before that the wood dips inward. I don’t know why, but a tear leaks from my eye.
Never, not once, has Joey showed an ounce of care like that. I dumbly pick up one of the handwritten cards—
Rissa,
Just recapping the best year of my life. No big deal. You dragged me to King’s Dominion theme park in Virginia – God knows why, but you did. We went to Hershey Park in PA too. Not one, not two, but you let me prepare three candlelight dinners for you, while pretending to be surprised (I know your mom spilled the beans). Seeing your cheeks flush like blooming rose petals made it worth the aggravation. Then making your lower lips drench was a nice way to end each of those nights. Can’t wait to chase you later. You better be hard to find.
