Page 109 of A Step You Shouldn't Take

“That’s illegal.”

“And kidnapping fourteen girls is totally above board?”

“I’m going with Reed,” Rania announced, scrambling to her feet, and Will rolled his eyes.

“Nia, no. Are you crazy?”

Her look said he already knew the answer to that.

“We’re tourists in a foreign country,” he tried.

“Yes, and I don’t want to attend a funeral while I’m here.”

“We can take my car,” I told her. Although I didn’t know her well, and from the outside, she looked pretty and delicate, a core of steel ran through her centre. Something told me Rania Algafari knew how to take care of herself.

Will grabbed his jacket too. “I’m not letting you go without me.”

That left one holdout. “Wyatt?”

“Fine. But for the record, I think this is a terrible idea.”

“Noted.”

“Just let me get my handcuffs.”

Handcuffs? Who needed handcuffs? I had a fully-loaded semi-automatic, and even if it meant spending the rest of my life behind bars, I wasn’t afraid to use it.

CHAPTER 33 - KIMBERLY

“NOW, WHICH OF you is going to come with Noelle and show her where everything is in the bathroom?”

Finally, a week after my abduction, it was my turn to shower. My hair hung around my chin in rat tails, and my armpits smelled disgusting. At least Peter didn’t skimp on the beauty products, and we were allowed safety razors to shave our legs.

Emma raised her hand. “I’ll go.”

“Thank you, Emma. It’s so awkward having an odd number, but don’t worry—we’ll be back to evens soon.”

Oh, hell. He’d found his M, hadn’t he? Another victim to come and join us in the dungeon. Who would it be this time? As well as a psychiatrist, we had a medical doctor in Fern, an artist in Brianna, and a scientist in Gina to name but a few. And how long before he swooped on his prey? A day? A week? He was escalating, wasn’t he? Did he feel time was running out? Or had taking three girls in such a short period of time emboldened him? One thing was for sure—there were thirteen empty cells in the old distillery, and Peter wouldn’t stop voluntarily until he’d filled them all.

What would happen then? Would we have to shower in threes?

He unlocked my cage first, then went to Emma’s. Oddly, he seemed to give us leeway down here, probably because he thought we couldn’t get out. Even if we somehow disabled him, we couldn’t get past the combination lock on the door, plus he was a big guy and, according to Jacqueline, he carried a knife. He’d never used it, but the threat was there.

The bunch of keys jangled as he opened Emma’s door, each one labelled with a letter. Two larger keys, one with a blue sticker, one with green, opened storerooms at either end of the distillery where Peter kept supplies. Bedding, toiletries, Band-Aids for our damaged toes. More freaking protein bars.

This was the first time I’d seen Emma without bars between us, and up close, I realised the toll this ordeal had taken. Only twenty-four years old, yet she already had a network of fine lines around her eyes and pale, pale skin from the lack of sunlight. I’d assumed her dark-red hair, almost cherry, was dyed, but now I realised it was her natural colour. Except today it hung dull and lank, the ends chewed ragged.

Peter followed in our footsteps—our bare footsteps—as we headed for the shower room. Bathrobe only—that was the rule, and he’d stared at me while I changed. As the others said, he didn’t touch us, but his gaze was like an army of venomous slugs, crawling its slimy way all over my body.

Emma took my elbow once we got through the door. Well, not a door, exactly, but a doorway with two rusting hinges on one side where a door had once hung.

“The shower runs on spring water, but it’s hot. Just be careful with the dial. A fraction of an inch too far and it burns. The waste water goes into a dry well, and it can be a little slow to drain, so don’t worry if it looks blocked. That always happens. We’ve all got our favourite brands of products, and each of us has a basket over here…” She gestured towards two shelves on the far wall. “Oh, look. Yours already has stuff in it. Shower gel, shampoo, face wash. No conditioner, but you can borrow mine.”

“I had to improvise,” Peter said. “I haven’t been to the store since you came. But you can put an order in next time along with the other girls so long as you behave.”

Emma nudged me. “You have to say ‘thank you, Peter.’”

The words physically hurt as I forced them past my lips. “Thank you, Peter.”

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