Page 43 of Deliverance

Andrea Jacoby was nothing special, really. She cooked, cleaned, and kept to herself, and her neighbors hardly ever saw her leaving the Jacoby residence. As if she never existed.

And in a way, she didn’t.

“Sorry.” I snap back to the present and concentrate Reagan’s questions. “Things are hectic.” I jump into explaining what really being—in Tina’s words—an up-and-coming artist on the verge of greatness means.

“So good to see you doing well. I’m looking forward to the event, by the way.”

“Thank you.” My voice suddenly betrays me and wobbles. It’s the darn memories. They’re like bugs, crawling back out, unable to stay in their hiding places.

Santiago comes to the rescue and whisks me away so that we can give birthday greetings to Mack. A few minutes later, everyone takes their spots and the meeting begins.

I’m staring at the worn-out floorboards and studying their scratch patterns with odd reverence that surely doesn’t belong in this room full of strangers. My knees are shaking so much that I have to smash them together, but all that does is maybe give me bruises. The tremor has overtaken every part of my body and the breath in my lungs crystallizes so that I can’t seem to get any oxygen in.

It’s a horrible feeling—not being able to control your body.

Gripping my thighs tighter, I lift my gaze from the floor and dare to meet the glares of the people who are occupying the room. Are they just like me, drowning in an ocean of helplessness? Or have they made it to the surface and finally reached safety?

For a moment, I allow my imagination to go wild and paint a picture of my future withouthim. A life where I get to choose what to say and what to do. A life where I’m my own person and nothisproperty.

A life that’s a fantasy.

A life that’ll never happen.

Because some things simply can’t be erased.

A few tense seconds pass before the woman sitting across from me finally locks her gaze with mine and says, “I see we have a new face here today.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat as the understanding that she’s speaking to me sweeps through my chest and drops to my stomach.

“Would you like to introduce yourself to the group?”

I bite down on the inside of my bottom lip, the putrid taste of my own blood coating my mouth. It’s sickly comforting and I shudder at the fact that I welcome the sensation. My mind begins to race in thousands of different directions, trying to clutch on to a solid reason that brought me to this place. But while at some point there was logic behind my decision, I’m no longer sure why I’m here.

You don’t think, Andrea! You do as I fucking say! Now get your ass down there and clean this mess up!

The lights above our head flicker and then die all at once, sending the room into darkness. The first sounds of chaos—the low scrape of the chairs against the floor and hitched voices of complete strangers—ring out across the space.

I’m shaking and sweating with blind horror. My limbs don’t feel like my own and my voice comes out in a series of mute gasps. No one can hear me. No one can hear me calling for help when a pair of large stone-cold hands wrap around my neck, their grip turning harsh a heartbeat later.

Desperately, I claw at his wrists, my nails dragging across his skin, my pulse screaming.

White dots begin to hover at the edge of my vision, implying the end of the road.

Can’t breathe…

Can’t…breathe…

Can’t…

You breathe when I tell you to breathe, Andrea.

I wake up with a cry that rips from my throat like a fucking bullet from a barrel. My eyes dart to the window, to the city view sliced up into thin lines by the half-closed blinds. The loft is quiet, free of any presence but mine, and for a second, I manage to convince myself that these nightmares are just that—wretched dreams that have no way of becoming reality.

Because I won’t let it happen.

9 Zander

I’m as excitedabout tomorrow night as a man who desperately desires to let loose with a woman he can’t have can be, and although for the greater part of the morning while Julian and I are breaking down my kit, I let myself speculate about the mischief Drew’s planning for us, my mind is mostly preoccupied with the gig.

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