Page 10 of Finish Line

After he storms out of the basement, turning off my only light source, his car peels out.

Everything goes quiet again, but my arms shake from hanging for so long. Tomorrow, I’m going to be black and blue.

I curl up in a ball and blackout.

When I wake, I can’t tell if it’s been an hour or a day with no light. I slowly try to move my arms, working blood back into them. I push to a seated position and stretch and massage my legs, working the pain out of them.

This cold floor is no place to stay. If I do, I’ll be too stiff to move when he comes back. Gently and slowly, I stand, testing my body to ensure I don’t fall.

Sleeping on the cold floor helped a bit. It kept my swelling down in some areas, but everything still hurts.

My eyes adjust some to the darkness, but I need to know what else is down here.

I feel along the wall with my hands, hoping to find a light switch. I make it to the bend, barely able to reach around before the chain on my ankle stops me. I stretch as far as I can, but I don’t feel anything.

Figures he wouldn’t let it be that easy to have light.

Not far away from where I was hanging, I remember some boxes on the floor. I shuffle forward to where I think a box is. My toe hits something hard, and I curse. Fuck, that hurt! I grit my teeth against the pain, feel around again, and find the corner of the offending box before opening it to find it empty.

I continue doing this until I reach all the boxes I can. Most of the boxes are empty.

From the ones that aren’t, I pull out everything in them, hoping I can use something. Roger’s smart and would have gone through these boxes to make sure I couldn’t use anything as a weapon. So, of course, the contents are useless, just some old toys and other pieces of junk.

The last thing I pull out has a long shaft and something soft at the end, maybe some kind of duster. I laugh. He always said he wanted me in a French maid costume. I set it aside, hoping it can be useful.

My search of the area leads me to find some newspapers and a rusty bucket. I take two boxes apart and lie them on the ground, so I have a place to sit that insulates me from the cold. Next, I take the newspaper and lay it flat. I’ll use that to cover myself at night.

I pull my legs up and wrap my arms around them. My body shakes from the cold, and my stomach won’t stop growling. I can’t stay here and be sorry for myself. I need to keep myself warm. I’m still sore from the beating, but I’m not going to let that stop me.

I move to do sit-ups, push-ups, and burpees until I’m so tired I fall asleep.

Not having any light is driving me nuts. Time is unmeasurable without it. It’s all part of Roger’s crazy plan.

Thinking about the guys and how much I miss them, I sit up against the wall. If things go south here, I can say I at least understand what it feels like to be in love.

I glance up to heaven. “Hey, God. It’s Shelby. You and I have never talked. I’ve done some bad things, so I might deserve where I am, but Cam doesn’t deserve to die. He’s a really good guy. If you could, please save him. As for the others, they don’t deserve to be controlled by someone else. If you have any goodwill left after all that, could you help me out?”

I scrub my hand down my face. I’m losing it, talking to God.

I grab what I think is a duster. It’s not like the dusters Cin and I always used. The handle is a hard plastic. I remove the cleaning part off, which leaves me with the handle.

With the remaining plastic piece, I hit my open palm. “Not hard enough to do much damage.”

Hitting him isn’t the only way to cause damage though. I stand up and head over to the brick wall. I rub the end of the stick against it, but it breaks.

“Shit.” That idea is ruined, but the broken end is sharp, so I give it another try. I move my fingers down to give it some stability, and the remaining part remains intact.

I work that end until my fingers bleed from scraping it repeatedly against the wall, giving me some small hope that I can save myself.

Exhausted, I lie down on my boxes, curl up in a tight ball with the newspapers draped over me, and close my eyes, dreaming of my guys.

I’m in a classroom when the door opens. Dom and Carrie walk in. Carrie has a big smile on her face.

“Ew, look who it is?” Carrie taunts. “Aren’t you dead yet?”

I roll my eyes. Is that the best she’s got? Dom doesn’t move a muscle. He stands still, ignoring me.

Mav struts in with two girls on his arms. He, too, waits for commands.

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