Page 361 of Filthy Elites

There’s a pounding noise on the front door.

“Open up. Police,” a man calls through the barrier.

I’m saved.

I’m fucking saved.

I start crying, this time out of relief instead of fear.

Anae opens the door and tries to say there’s been some mistake, but the cops aren’t hearing it. I hear cuffs clinking and more shuffling, and then several pairs of boots on the floor outside.

“I’m in here,” I call out.

The footsteps move closer. A man comes to the door and tries to open it, but since this door has a lock, it doesn’t open. “You okay in there, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” I call back, my voice shaking. “I’m tied up on the floor.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” I call back. “Just please get me out of here.”

“I will,” he assures me. “Hang tight just a minute, all right?”

He leaves and comes back with something that he jiggles in the door, and then it opens, and I start crying all over again.

A cop behind him snaps my picture, then the big, bald man kneels down to pull me out of the closet. “You’re safe now,” he tells me. “I’ve got you.”

___

The first nightI met Dare, I spent what felt like an eternity in the hospital.

This time, it’s a police station.

I feel like an exhibit as I’m poked and prodded at. They ask a million questions I’m too numb to answer and take pictures of my body that make me feel cold. They collect my pajamas as evidence and give me a huge sweater and sweatpants to change into. They tell me my mom can bring clothes from home, but I ask her not to come.

I know she must be terrified, but I don’t have the energy to look after anyone but myself right now, and I don’t want her putting her health at risk just to come to the stupid police station.

They ask if there’s anyone else I can call to pick me up. In fact, the officer even says, “What about your boyfriend?”

They think he’s the hero in this scenario. After all, it was Dare who called the police and told them that when he went over to his girlfriend’s house for a prearranged meeting, she wasn’t there. It was Dare who had so thoughtfully and protectively put a tracker on my car after we had a scare with his unhinged ex-girlfriend threatening to cut my brakes because he needed to know exactly where I was if he ever couldn’t reach me.

She’d faked his handwriting and tried to lure me to the beach behind his house because she knew I couldn’t swim, but he made excuses, didn’t take her threats seriously. He was beside himself, would have no one to blame but himself if something happened to me.

Thankfully, he called them so quickly after realizing I wasn’t at home.

Thankfully, the police made it here before Anae could finish what she’d started.

In light of the heroism of my incredible boyfriend, the officer seems surprised when I shake my head. “No. I don’t want him to come get me.”

“All right. Is there anyone else you can call?”

I nod.

___

When Hannah walksinto the station, I feel better immediately.

She feels like the bright, beautiful light at the end of a dark and terrifying tunnel. I don’t know how I find it in me to smile, but I do at the sight of her face.

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