It’s a shock at how much that hurts. All this time, I’ve been operating under the understanding that Landon is the enemy of sorts. But maybe I’ve screwed that up like I screwed up judging Shaw?
~
I wake with a start, and it takes a moment to orientate myself. My back aches – all of me hurts.
Before I move, I wait and listen. I can’t hear anything, and the panic I felt before rushes back through me.
Standing up, I move toward the door and bang on it with my fist clenched tightly. “Shaw?”
But there’s nothing. So I start to bang louder. Harder.
My screams and cries become regular and repeated. Over and over again.
Somewhere in my consciousness, I know I won’t be left.
All of this is a show of ownership. Shaw said it himself; they want to sell me and make a profit. That’s what this has been about all along. So, leaving me here to die won’t accomplish that.
I shake my head as I keep that in my mind as a preferable outcome to rotting away.
“Somebody? Anybody? Can you hear me?” Over and over.
“Hello? Is someone there?” A man’s voice responds. It’s faint, but I can hear it’s not Shaw. He sounds timid or unsure.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, I’m in here. Behind a metal door.”
“I heard someone shouting.” The voice gets closer. “What are you doing in here? Didn’t you see all the warnings?”
I bite my tongue, gratitude overriding my initial answer to that question.
“Over here! I’m here!” I pound on the door, making sure he knows where to go.
Finally, he comes to the small window I can see out of.
“Are you okay?”
“No. There’s a man, he locked me in here. Please. You have to help me get out.”
I step back as I hear the grate of the metal bolt slide free. My heart jumps, and I reward myself with a small smile. Getting out was the biggest obstacle. Once I’m out, then I just need to get to Landon, and I’ll be fine.
I watch as the door swings open.
The man, tall and middle-aged, looks horrified as he opens the door for me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m…” I don’t finish the sentence. “Thank you.” I smile at him.
“Who did this? We need to take you to the police. Report this.”
“No. It’s fine. I just need to go. We need to leave,” I plead with him. “Quickly.” Shaw’s been gone for hours, and I have no idea when he’ll be back. The man steps further inside the room to help me, and my instinct creeps up, wanting to rush him out of the room. “We need to leave now. I’ll go wherever, but we have to go.”
“Well, that's not happening.” I falter as Shaw appears around the corner of the door. A bottle of alcohol lingers in his hand, and he takes a swig of the amber liquid and then looks at the man next to me.
“Are you the one who’s done this? You have to let her go,” the man says.
Shaw steps inside and bars the door. “I don’t have to do a thing.”
“Shaw. Please.”
“Oh, begging now? Good to hear, Miri.”