Page 64 of Safe
32. DANIELLE
An entire day had passed since Landon had taken me, but it felt like an endless eternity. My sense of hope was fading, but I couldn’t let go of the last ounce of faith remaining, telling me that Alex or Cody would be able to find me.
I had no clue what time it was anymore, but it was undoubtedly late. There was no longer any light squeezing through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. It was a shadowy, oppressive space devoid of sound from downstairs. I tried to force myself to go to sleep, but I couldn’t; I stayed awake trying to devise a plan to escape.
The first step was determining Landon's whereabouts in the house. If he were far enough from the stairs, or even asleep, I might be able to slip past unnoticed. I eased the door open and slipped into the hallway, wincing as the floorboards gave me away with every creak. The door wasn’t silent, either. Pausing, I lingered in the doorway, one foot in the hall, one foot in the room, straining my ears to catch any sign that Landon was checking on me.
Nothing.
I tiptoed out and navigated the hallway, checking the rooms. Each one was a dark abyss that offered no hint of Landon's presence. After checking the final room, I opted to make a dash for the staircase. In the act of turning back, I collided with something looming in the shadows.
“Going somewhere?” Landon’s furious question cut through the darkness between us as his intimidating silhouette moved closer.
“Oh,” I fumbled for words as I edged back, step by step. “I was just looking for the bathroom.”
“Oh Danielle, do you really think I'm that fucking stupid?” Before I could muster a response, his hand struck against my face, plunging me into my own darkness.
When I regained consciousness, I was met with a persistent headache. As I blinked, the pain brought me back to full awareness, and I found myself back in the confines of my room, sprawled on the dusty, broken bed.
Getting to my feet, I faced the tarnished mirror hanging on the wall, its surface as fractured and weary as the woman Landon had managed to turn me back into. Yet again, another bruise from Landon. Was this my fate? Trapped in this abuse cycle until he inevitably kills me?
With no sign of salvation, I had to find a way to reach Cody and Alex. I was clueless as to where I was, but then I remembered something Alex taught me back when I first started dating. He was always so worried about dates gone awry, and while I thought he was nagging back then, he taught me something that might actually save me now. Even if Landon was using a burner phone, I just had to get him the number, and he could find me. The chance to get his phone was my only shot, and I had to risk my life to do it.
My plan was disturbed by the sound of Landon active in the kitchen again. Judging by the scent of maple syrup in the air, it was morning. The scent was more than tantalizing, causing my stomach to growl, yet the idea of sharing a meal with him was repugnant. I sat on the bed, trying in vain to quell the grumbling in my stomach. Realistically, I knew I had to eat to survive, especially if I wanted to hold out until Alex and Cody found me. With a resigned sigh, I made my way downstairs and back into Hell.
The kitchen was a mess, but Landon had prepared everything—eggs, bacon, pancakes, and coffee. The spread was tempting, yet accepting anything from him felt like conceding defeat. If he had been like this all along, apart from the violence, things could have been different. But his deranged mind would never understand that.
As I stepped forward, a floorboard creaked, and Landon turned, his eyes meeting mine.
“You know,” he muttered as he walked over and traced the bruise on my face with his thumb, “if you would just behave, shit like last night wouldn’t be necessary. But lies and attempted escapes? Un-fucking-acceptable.”
Silent and defiant, I brushed past him, grabbing a plate and piling food onto it. I was starving. I shoveled food into my mouth, not even registering the taste of it, as I contemplated how to divert him from his phone. Just twenty seconds to input Alex’s number and send a simple message. Its content was irrelevant; Alex would discern that it was from me.
Or would he?
Maybe I could open Maps and take a screenshot of where we were and send it? But if I did that, it’d take twice as long, and I’d have to make sure I deleted the screenshot. It was too risky. Whatever I did, it needed to be done in just seconds.
I was so engrossed in my own plotting that I missed Landon scrutinizing me from across the table, hands laced in front of his mouth, brow furled as if he was trying to read my mind.
“What?” I snapped at him, shoving my face full of food.
“Something is brewing behind those eyes of yours, I can fucking see it, and I don’t fucking like it, Danielle.” Landon declared, his eyes locked onto mine, even as I broke the connection.
I realized then that I would have to play his twisted game if I wanted a chance to escape. No more hostility, no more obvious attempts to get away from him. The idea was repulsive, but it seemed to be the easiest way to get close enough to send Alex a message. As I finished breakfast, I thought through the intricacies of my plan. It had to be convincing, even if it meant enduring a facade for several days.
After eating, I retreated upstairs without saying a word. I sat on the bed, listening to the clatter of dishes below as Landon cleaned up, pondering my next move.
As if it had beckoned me, my attention snapped to the dress hanging in the closet. On impulse, and still without a formal plan, I slipped it on, attempting to make myself look presentable despite my disheveled hair and bruised face. With effort, I managed a semblance of decency.
After a final glance in the mirror, I lingered at the top of the stairs before forcing myself down, following the sounds of water running in the sink.
As I entered the kitchen, Landon still hadn’t noticed me over the sound of the running water. My nerves were rattled, my hands were trembling, and my breath was coming in uneven, short bursts. I managed to get within five feet of Landon before he became aware of my presence, raising his head from the sink, but not turning to face me. Hesitant, I took a couple more steps toward him. Just then, he reached for his gun.
“Don’t!” I gasped as my heart began pounding so forcefully, I was afraid Landon could see it beating out of my chest. “I’m not trying to hurt you. Or escape.”
His hand eased away from the gun, but his focus remained fixed ahead, indifferent to my presence. A tenseness settled between us as he returned to washing dishes, leaving me on the precipice of my plan. Battling the rising nausea withinme, I closed my eyes, drawing a deep breath for courage before acting.
Every careful step closed the distance between us until I was close enough to feel the warmth emanating from his body. Landon carried on washing dishes until my hands found his waist. He must have heard the sound of my reluctance because he turned his head just enough to make me visible in his peripheral view. He cocked an eyebrow, still waiting for me to slip up and give him a reason to pull his gun back out. Forcing myself to calm down, I drew a deep breath, wrapping my arms around him, pulling him closer.
