Page 72 of Lana

CHAPTER35

ZOE

She’d felt the tingling in her hands first. She hadn’t realized what was happening until it started spreading. It had moved from her feet to her legs, and her hands to her arms. Eventually she’d realized it was the drug wearing off. She didn’t know whether he’d given her the incorrect dose, or if it was a short-lived drug, but slowly feeling had crept back into her limbs. She kept this secret to herself, though, being cautious not to move without thinking.

He dunked the white wash cloth in a bucket of water and then wiped it over her arms.

She had no idea what he was doing, and every time he touched her she cringed internally because that’s all she could do. She wanted to scream at him, to recoil, but she knew that her secret might be the only thing that could save her.

Zoe had no idea how many hours had passed or if it was day or night. She looked up at the plain white ceiling again, focusing on the cracks, tracing them with her eyes—the only things she dared to move.

When he put the cloth back in the water and walked away, carrying it, she breathed a sigh of relief. She moved one finger, then another, until she confirmed she could fully move her hands, before doing the same for her feet and then her legs. She stilled when she heard his footsteps approaching once more.

This time he returned with something that smelled heady and nectarous—a lot like honeysuckle. He began rubbing it on her feet. The urge to pull her feet away was violent, but she fought with everything within her to stay still.

“I’m cleansing you,” he said. “Anointing you with perfume, like Mary did for Jesus. We’re close now,” he said. “Jonathan is preparing the ropes. We’re almost ready.”

A fresh wave of fear spread through her veins. She’d wondered where Jonathan was. She hadn’t seen him since he’d put the needle in her neck. Apparently, he was still being a useful participant in his brother’s madness.

When he finally finished, she felt like she gasped in a breath. Had she stopped breathing completely? She had no idea. She watched him carefully to see if he noticed anything was amiss, but he only picked up the bottle of perfume and walked away once more.

Zoe clenched every muscle in her body, testing what worked and what didn’t. She knew she wasn’t going to have many opportunities to escape.

She noticed she wasn’t bound to the table in any way, and neither were her hands nor feet tied together. She guessed Peter didn’t think he needed to restrain her because he’d administered the drug.

Footsteps grew louder as he walked back into the room and her heart pounded in her chest.

When he returned this time, he held a knife in his hand.

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and her stomach rolled.

“It is time,” he said as he placed the tip of the knife over her stomach.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe—like she was paralyzed all over again—but this time it was from fear.

He gave her a few unexpected seconds to recover as he seemed to chant something. It took her a second to work out he was repeating a verse. She didn’t know which book it was from, but she was sure it was from the Bible.

Zoe took a deep breath. It was literally life or death.

Please, God. Protect me.

It took all her strength, but in one sudden move she swung her arm, slamming her fist into his face. It was a weak hit, but enough to stun him for a few seconds.

She screamed as burning pain shot through her abdomen but she refused to stop. She had to get up. She had to move.Now.

Zoe pushed herself up, swaying. He grabbed her arm and she slammed her elbow into him. It wasn’t a conscious decision; she was hitting and swinging wherever she could.

“You’re ruining everything! Stop! You’re ruining it!” he screamed as she fought against him, scratching and kicking. She felt her energy fading, and her limbs slowing, but she pushed through the fatigue and pain.

She managed to get upright and kick him in the stomach. He stumbled back, tripping over a steel box on the floor. He fell backward and hit his head.

She knew this was her chance. She slipped off the table onto wobbly legs that failed to support her and, falling to the floor, began crawling toward the door.

Zoe didn’t know how long she had until he came after her, so she fought for her life with every second that passed. Using the doorframe, she pulled herself to stand. The action almost winded her and her nails dug into the wood, gripping with everything she had to stay upright.

She inhaled deeply and then took a step forward, moving along the wall, using it for support. She stumbled, but somehow managed to keep going.

Her lungs wheezed and the room spun, but she took another step, and then another. It seemed like the room was getting bigger and she wasn’t making any progress, but eventually she made it to the door.

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