Page 167 of Happily Never After

“No service in the basement,” Claire said, holding her phone up. Still no service. “Shit, I can’t get a single bar. Do you have service?” She whirled on her sister, who still looked alarmed.

“Nothing,” Charlie said. “There must be a jammer or something.”

“She’s here. In the basement. I don’t think we have much time. I need you to go outside and call the police, Charlie. Now.”

Charlie ran for the front door. Claire opened the basement door and headed back down to the lion’s den. She was going to have to watch and wait. And if the police didn’t get here in time, she would go down fighting for her little sister.

She stopped halfway down the stairs, heartbeat pounding in her ears. She pulled out her phone and typed a message to Luke. It wouldn’t go through, but if everything went south, Luke needed to know he was her last thought.

Claire:I think they’re jamming cell phone signals somehow. I’m not sure if we can wait for the police. If the worst happens, know that I love you forever. Even though you drive me crazy. Watch over the dogs for me. Don’t feed Rosie anything with corn in it; she’s allergic. Winston’s new favorite toy is the squeaky hotdog. Tell my mom and Roy I love them too. And Coli and Mindy. Just everyone I guess. Be safe, and don’t forget me.

She slunk back downstairs. With any luck, Charlie would call the police and they would accept a secondhand account of a girl trapped in a basement in a Grammy-winning musical artist’s house. This was LA—calls like this probably happened every week. The cops wouldn’t be far behind. There was nothing to do but watch and wait. If things escalated, she would intervene, whatever the cost.

Trent was still on the floor, bleeding and moaning. She aimed a kick at his ribs as she walked by. Back in the observation room, things were getting even stranger. Big Z was now tilting one of the candles so that it dripped hot wax onto Brianna. She flinched and stared at him with pure malice in her eyes.

“Our special guest is one of the worst kinds of women,” Big Z said, clearly in the middle of some kind of hateful diatribe. “She thought she deserved to be paid as much as the lead actor. She thought she needed to tell the story of some hormonal idiot who impersonated a soldier and took all the glory of war from a man who rightfully deserved it. The story is shameful, and she’s trash. A Hollywood nobody who should have stayed in the kitchen. Of course, we couldn’t let this movie premiere tonight. Not on the night of our most treasured festival.”

What fresh bullshit was this? A festival? Were they going to roll out a bunch of summer-themed beers and make flower crowns before murdering her sister? Claire bit the inside of her cheek. One hand froze on the door handle that led to the inner sanctum. How much more of this could she take? Her sister was in agony. If this went on much longer, there would be no waiting for the police.

“Priapus,” Big Z continued, “the god of fertility and the male genitals, among other things. Today we honor him and sacred masculinity with a sacrifice.”

Shit. That did not sound good. Brianna glared at him, but her hand trembled on the armrest. Claire’s grip tightened on the handle. She couldn’t take this anymore.

Footsteps echoed outside the observation room door.Damn it. There must be more assholes afoot. She needed to hide again. Back to the depraved wardrobe. She had one foot in when the door flew open. Claire grabbed the closest thing, which happened to be nunchucks with latex dildos on both ends. Did the spa in West Haven have a treatment where attendants would wipe her down from head to toe with Clorox wipes for three straight days? If so, she was booking it after this adventure. Assuming she lived.

Charlie and Luke entered. Charlie carried a solid gold fire poker while Luke wielded a butcher knife. Claire almost collapsed in relief.

“What are you guys doing down here?”

“Cops are on their way but there’s some kind of truck blocking direct access from Hollywood. They have to go the long way around,” Charlie said. Her eyes zeroed in on Brianna. She bit her lip. “This is awful.”

“Big Z keeps talking about some kind of sacrifice, and I just don’t?—”

At that moment, Big Z pulled a long, slender hunting knife from somewhere in the room. He held it in front of Bri’s throat.

“Oh, hell no,” Claire said. She slung the dildo nunchucks over one shoulder and picked up one of the chairs in the room. “On three?” She looked at the other two. They nodded.

“Cover your eyes. One…Two…” She swung the chair with each count.

“Three!” Luke grunted and thrust open the door into the inner chamber. Claire was treated to two seconds of shocked naked men panicking before the chair crashed through the two-way glass and littered the room with glittering fragments.Unless they wanted to be cut to shreds, the naked assholes were trapped.

“What the fuck?” Big Z turned around, knife in one hand and candle in the other.

“That’s my sister!” Claire leapt through the newly broken window. A jagged edge bit into her thigh, but she didn’t stop to inspect the wound. She nearly slipped on the shards of glass, then charged forward and kicked as hard as she could. The knife flew out of his hand and plunged straight up into a ceiling tile. The candle rolled out of sight.

“You stupid bitch!” Big Z clutched at his hand and she tackled him to the floor, aiming a punch at his stupid smug face.

To her left, Charlie wielded the fire poker to block two balding, saggy men from leaving the room. She whipped one across the face.

“Get on the ground,” Charlie said in her most authoritative voice. It was almost enough to convince Claire to get down.

“On your knees,” Luke commanded, brandishing the knife toward a group of three men who were trying to scrabble through the broken window. One of them lunged at him, and Luke punched him with his non-dominant hand. The man hit the floor, and his entire body jiggled like a platter of Jell-O. He cried out. Blood leaked from a series of small cuts on his back.

The remaining men stared in horror at the broken glass on the floor and their bare feet. There were almost certainly a few fragments in Claire’s own emergency flats, but Brianna was alive. Nothing else mattered.

Beneath her, Big Z struggled like an animal caught in a trap. Claire brought her knee up into his completely unprotected groin. He crumpled like a dollar bill, and she flipped him onto his stomach. In seconds, she had wrenched his hands behind his back and dragged his legs back to meet them. She hog-tied himwith the dildo nunchucks as best as she could and ran to her sister.

“Bri,” she whispered, taking in the full damage that was done. She shuddered as she ripped at the gag in her sister’s mouth. Had adrenaline not been coursing through her veins, she probably would have been crippled on the floor.

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