Page 23 of Caged Bird

The fantasy disappeared in a heartbeat. Disintegrated with Eddie’s harsh words. I opened my eyes, and Zane was gone.

Eddie finished, and I swallowed quickly, fighting the urge to gag.

He opened his eyes and noticed his brother was gone too, a small, smug smile crossing his lips. He patted me on the head like I was an obedient dog. “You put on a good show, moaning like a bitch in heat, Peach. I liked it.”

I wanted to vomit.

“You smell as bad as a dumpster though. Go fucking take care of yourself, would you?”

I bit down on my lip, forcing myself not to remind the bastard that the reason I smelled as bad as I did was because he had left me chained here, so bathing had been out of the question. But the idea of hot running water was too appealing, and I was terrified he might take the offer away if I dared to speak. So I just nodded, getting back up onto my feet and hurrying up the stairs before he could change his mind.

“Door stays open, Peach. Don’t go getting any funny ideas.”

I faltered, my fingers gripping the banister.

He never let me be alone in the bathroom. Not since I’d taken a razor blade to my wrists and tried to end it all. But I couldn’t do that anymore. Hadn’t tried again since I’d had Otis.

Nothing was ever as bad as the knowledge that if I ended it all, then he’d be left alone with his father. I couldn’t breathe thinking about that.

But Eddie didn’t know that, or knew but didn’t trust me anyway.

Normally he’d sit on the closed toilet, watching me wash myself, never allowing me to have any privacy, his gaze intrusive, even if he kept his hands to himself.

Which he often didn’t.

But he was clearly in pain today and he didn’t follow me up the stairs. I hoped his leg hurt bad enough he couldn’t get up here at all. I didn’t care if he had to piss in the yard, and didn’t shower at all, if it meant I had somewhere to go where his eyes couldn’t follow.

I wanted to close the bathroom door in defiance, but I didn’t because in the scheme of things, it wasn’t something worth making Eddie mad over. The door squeaked, just like most of the doors in this house, because Eddie never did any maintenance and wouldn’t allow me out to the shed to get oil, so he’d hear it if I disobeyed him.

Upstairs was quiet. I could almost pretend Eddie wasn’t around.

I leaned over the tub and turned on the shower, hastily undressing as the water warmed. When steam billowed around the small room, I pushed the curtain aside and stepped in.

The hot water was an instant relief, soothing the old injuries that ached sometimes. But even better was the feeling of being clean. I ran a bar of soap across every inch of my skin, soaping it up, scrubbing away the sweat and grime that clung after a week of not bathing. I washed my hair, and then started the process all over again, just because it felt like heaven.

And because with the water pounding down around me, and a lingering tingle between my thighs, my fingers found their way to my clit, and I relished in the tiny bit of privacy a flimsy shower curtain could provide.

7

ZANE

Icounted minutes silently in my head because I didn’t have a watch, and when I’d checked my vandalized truck for my phone, it had been missing.

Not much of a mystery. There was nobody out here but me, Eddie, Fawn, and Otis. Otis wouldn’t even be able to reach the handle on the door without help, and Fawn had been inside the entire time.

I was a fucking idiot for leaving it in the truck in the first place. But when we’d pulled up, I’d been so shocked by how much Otis resembled his mother that my phone had been the last thing on my mind.

I didn’t even remember where I’d left it, but it wasn’t in the glove box or the center console. I’d even moved the seats and checked beneath them to see if the phone had slipped in between, desperately hoping it was sitting on one of the floor mats.

And that I hadn’t been stupid enough to leave it unattended while my brother was around.

But apparently, I was.

And now not only was I completely stranded here, but I had no method of calling for help either.

Not that I had anyone to call.

If I called the police, what would I report? That my brother had brainwashed his girlfriend into thinking she was happy here with him? That she had to have Stockholm syndrome or something? Otis was pretty skinny, but I instinctively knew reporting him as a neglected child wouldn’t help the situation. I didn’t want Fawn to lose her son. And though he was small and slim, he didn’t seem particularly unhealthy. He ran around the yard with plenty of energy.

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