Page 14 of Beg the Night

“I know you’re scared,” she said softly. She grabbed my hand and held it in both of hers. “I’ll wait outside the whole time, okay? You can’t expect to go the entire month without taking a shower.”

“Like hell I can’t.”

With a roll of her eyes, she stood. Then she tugged me up beside her. “Come on,” she whispered. “Everyone is sleeping, anyway. Now’s your chance.”

Every cell in my body told me this was a very, very bad idea. It wasn’t safe for me when I was fully clothed. Showering only left me more vulnerable.

It was different for Margaret.

But she seemed very confident that I’d be okay. And she was right about one thing.I did smell.

“Fine,” I whispered. “But you’re waiting outside the door. And if anyone comes in, you scream. Got it?”

A smile spread across her face. “Thank god. I wasn’t sure I could go one more night sleeping next to you like this.”

I shoved her lightly on the shoulder, and with a chuckle, she led the way to the showers. We stepped over sleeping bodies and silently crept our way to the back of the dungeon. The rusty metal toilets and sinks were to the right of the small opening in the corner, and the showers were to the left. We waited by the entrance for a few seconds, ensuring the rooms were empty, before slipping inside.

My heart pounded so hard, I thought my chest would burst open. But Margaret slipped her small hand into mine and pulled me forward. There were four or five showers, all separated by thick curtains, and my boots squelched on the wet dungeon floor as Margaret led me to the last makeshift stall.

“Let the water warm up for a few seconds before you step under the stream. Trust me, it gets cold.” She pointed to the far wall. “I’ll get a towel and some clean clothes from the supplies over there, okay? Then I’ll wait here.”

I nodded, still not totally convinced this was a good idea. I mean, I did possess basic survival instincts.

Or at least I thought I did.

“Don’t you dare leave me, Margaret.”

She held her little finger up in the space between us. “Pinkie promise.” With a wink, she moved to the surprisingly neat pile of supplies in the corner, where she rummaged for extra clothes. I stepped behind the curtain and yanked it shut, ensuring there weren’t any gaps in the thick fabric before I finally kicked my boots off.

My feet ached, and as I peeled off the socks that had practically bonded with my flesh, the blisters I’d developed from wearing my boots for days on end screamed at the sudden hit of fresh air. I bit my lip to keep from crying out in relief as my bare feet hit the cold dungeon floor.

I pulled my shirt off next, then folded the filthy fabric neatly and placed it on top of my boots. Same with my pants.

Rather than shuck my bra and underwear, I chose to keep them on. At least for this first shower. If Margaret was right about this being totally safe, I would consider taking them off next time.

See? I wasn’t a complete idiot.

I reached for the partially rusted nozzle and turned the shower on. It sputtered for a couple seconds before a solid stream of ice-cold water fell from above.

The hot water in our home had stopped working years ago, so I’d been accustomed to the cold for quite some time. I’d come to appreciate it, actually.

But when the steam began to accumulate in the stall, I nearly cried with relief.

I stepped into the spray and tilted my head back, letting the water wash over my disgusting, matted hair and dirty body. And damn it all, it was nice.

I picked up a bottle from the line of supplies on the floor and poured a generous amount of liquid into my palm. Head tipped back and eyes closed, I lathered my thick hair. I had to shampooand rinse twice before the caked dirt and blood began to wash away in earnest.

I did the same with my body, and when I scrubbed my face, my hands came away covered in dirt and blood.

Of course the twisted, sick people keeping us prisoner would shove us together in this underground dungeon but give ussoapfor good hygiene. That made total sense.

“Who knew the Ministry would be so evil but actually give us hot water,” I joked.

When Margaret didn’t reply, my heart lurched. I waited a few seconds, but I heard nothing.

“Margaret?”

A few more seconds went by before I heard her voice. But she wasn’t talking to me. She was speaking in hushed tones to someone else, and from the way the unintelligible words bounced off the walls, it sounded like she was on the other side of the room.

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