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He rewinds the footage to the point when Lanie steps through the front doors and heads down the sidewalk. A moment later, a man in a dark hoodie follows her. The man turns to look into the diner briefly and I get a clear picture of his face. My skin prickles with goosebumps and my stomach churns hard with a sick, greasy, bitterly acidic taste coating the back of my throat.
“Son of a bitch,” I say.
13
LANIE
The first thing I’m aware of when I wake up is the pain radiating throughout my entire body. Every muscle in my shoulders and back is stiff and sore. I’m groggy… almost hungover, really, and for a long moment, I can’t latch onto a coherent thought. I can’t even remember what happened or how I got here… wherever here is. The second thing I notice is the absolute darkness of the room around me. I literally can’t see a foot in front of my face.
I can tell that I’m lying on my back on something soft. A mattress, most likely. My hands are bound above my head by what feels like plastic cuffs. I can also feel the metal of what must be a headboard that the cuffs are attached to, which tells me I’m strapped down to a bed.
Despite the discomfort gripping me, I struggle with the cuffs, yanking and pulling, trying to break them or the headboard. Grunting and whimpering as pain shoots through my body like I’m being pierced with fiery daggers from the inside.
The blood in my veins turns to ice when I hear a rattle and squeak and then a door opens. Light from beyond slices into the room and the silhouette of a large man fills the frame. He stands there for a long moment, silently staring in at me. Because he’s nothing but a dark mass, I can’t see any of his features and can’t tell who he is. But I have a pretty good idea.
“Oh, good. You’re awake,” his voice is low and gruff. “I’ve been waiting for this day for quite a while now.”
The shadowy figure moves, and I hear a click. All at once, the room is flooded with harsh light, making me wince. I have to squint to shut it out until I adjust to the sudden influx of near-blinding illumination. My stomach is churning wildly and I’m trembling as my mind spins, trying to find a way out of this mess.
“Wh—who are you?” I ask, my voice shaking as hard as my body.
“That ain’t important.”
“Okay… then why are you doing this? Why have you been stalking me?”
He smirks. “Been around for weeks now and you never even saw me,” he says. “Figures. You bitches always think you’re too good for guys like me.”
“Please, just let me go and I won’t tell anybody about this. I promise. Just let me—”
“Shut the fuck up,” he roars.
I recoil and press myself back into the mattress as if I'm trying to put more physical distance between us. But the plastic cuffs hold me fast and I can't go anywhere. The fury in his eyes terrifies me and I have a bad feeling about why he brought me here.
“I’ve been watchin’ you for a while now, Lanie. I noticed you right off. A sweet little thing like you, how could I not?” he says.
“I—I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are.”
“Like I said, you bitches think you’re too good for me,” he says, his voice low and menacing. “That’s fine. I’m gonna get a piece of you anyway.”
He walks into the room and sits down on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on mine. A cold chill runs across my skin, raising goosebumps all over my body while a sick feeling is churning my belly. My vision blurs with tears and I sniff loudly, trying to blink them back. He leans forward and smirks.
“Please, no,” I beg.
A feeling of complete revulsion sweeps over me. The terror that courses through me is paralyzing and all I seem able to do is lie there.
“Even now, you think you’re better than me. That you’re too good for me to even touch.”
“Please don’t,” I whisper.
His backhand is so fast and so furious, it rocks my head to the side. The coppery taste of my blood fills my mouth, and the tears roll down my cheeks in a rush. A choked sob bursts from my mouth. His smile is cruel and his eyes glimmer with a hit of sadism that chills the very bones inside of me.
“Please, tell me who you are. Just tell me what I’ve done to you,” I say, my voice shaking so hard, I can barely get the words out.
His chuckle is pure evil. “What does it matter who I am? Ain’t like you’re going to remember me. Like I said, I’ve been workin’ around your complex for a good while now and you ain’t so much as said hello to me. I might as well be invisible to you.”
“You’re not. I’m just shy—”
“The hell you are. I seen you flouncin’ around with that prick Lane. You sure as shit don’t look shy when you’re around him,” he hisses.
