Page 115 of Trip Through Your Wires

“Put me down,” I pat his chest.

He tightens his hold, shaking his head. “No way.”

“Jake,” I look up. “I’m okay. Let me down.”

He sets me down gently, holding onto me for a moment, before letting me go, and watches as I check out the space around us. It’s not until I get to the window and look out do I realize we’re standing in one of the bungalows on the property.

It’s luxurious. Like a hotel room, with a sitting area, and a large bed with pillows, as well as a fireplace and TV. There’s also a large closet filled with women’s clothing and a bathroom with travel sized toiletries on the counter and a medicine cabinet on the wall.

Opening it, my mouth falls open when I see what’s on the shelves. There’s condoms and lube, and other contraceptives, as well as bottles of pills with names I’ve never heard of before, as well as spare toothbrushes, toothpaste, and mouthwash.

I take in every detail, wondering if this is where Richardson hid all those months, but when I look up and see what appears to be a piece of tech equipment in the corner of the ceiling, a pit grows in my stomach.

Placing my foot on the edge of the tub, Jakes rushes over and grabs my hips. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Just, keep me steady,” I press up on my toes for a better look, and sure enough, it’s a small camera.

“What’s on the other side of this wall?” I turn down to him. “Can you look?”

With one hand on me, he grabs the frame to the bathroom door with the other and looks out. “It’s the wall.”

Stepping down from the tub, he drops his hand and follows me as I make my way out of the bathroom and stand on the other side of the wall, staring at it.

“What are you looking for?” he asks, standing next to me.

“There’s a camera in there,” I point to the bathroom, “which means the cords are in the wall.”

He looks from me to the wall, and before I know it, he’s hit the wall with his fist.

“Jake!” I shout. “Your hand!”

“It’s fine,” he shakes it like he’s just killed a bug.

“That’s your throwing hand.”

“And?” he shrugs.

“And…don’t do it again. Let me get something.”

I search the room for something to hit the wall with and seeing nothing but a table lamp, I unplug it and bring it back to where he’s standing.

“Look out,” I motion for him to back up.

Turning the lamp upside down, I hold it like I am swinging a bat, and slam the base into the wall. The sheet rock cracks, and a piece of paint chips off. I hit it again and again until there is a hole big enough to fit a hand through, then drop the lamp to the floor.

Reaching inside, I feel around and when I touch what feels like cords, I pull my hand back. “I knew it. Whatever was going on in here was being filmed.” And I had a pretty good idea of what that something was given what I found in the medicine cabinet.

I look around the room again and when my eyes zero in on a media cabinet under the TV, I rush over. Kneeling in front of it, I open the doors and find a row of VHS tapes. Each had a name written on the side of the case…Sarah, Darla, Laura. There has to be at least two dozen, maybe more.

“Watch the door,” I say to Jake, reaching for one of the cases and opening it.

“Sparky, we need to—”

“Watch the door,” I say again, and pop the tape into the VCR below.

He heads over to the door and stands at the window, pulling back the blinds to look out, before dropping his hand. “We’re fine but hurry up.”

Ignoring his warning, I push play and wait for the video to come on. When it does, I’m horrified. It’s a girl, a few years younger than me, and she’s laying on the bed, passed out, while a man in a mask has his way with her.

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