Page 127 of Rescuing Kaye

I lay on the cold,hard floor in the corner of the room, trying to ignore the chill that seeps into my bones. I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been here. All I know is that it’s been far too long.

Day and night have no meaning anymore. Time passes in a never-ending cycle of boredom, restless sleep, and sprinkles of intense fear whenever Scott or Dean Alder come into the room to check on me.

If I go by the number of times I’ve been fed, I’m on day three.

Maybe four?

And I’m completely, and utterly, alone with my thoughts.

The only sound is my breathing and the occasional drip of water from somewhere in the concrete walls. Then there’s the creak of a floorboard on the other side of the door which precedes a visit from either Scott or the dean.

Like Pavlov’s dogs, I’m conditioned to that sound. It sends tendrils of fear clawing their way deep into my heart, where they twist and writhe until I can’t breathe. My mind races with questions. Where am I? What do they want with me? Why haven’t they raped me? Killed me? How can I get out of here?

Will I die alone?

After everything they’ve done, there really are only two options.

They either kill me or I escape.

There’s no way they’ll ever let me go. They can’t afford what I’ll say to the authorities.

Death or escape.

Those are my options.

They come every few hours to either bring food and water, or take me to the small bathroom to relieve myself. I hate that the most because they stand in the hall, forcing me to keep the door open while I pee. It’s degrading and dehumanizing.

But today, something feels off. It’s in the air. In the way this house creaks. It’s in the weight of my fear as I listen to other sounds. Scott and Dean are anxious about something, arguing about what to do with two hostages held captive somewhere else.

When Scott brings a cup of water, he looks at me with regret, almost as if he’s sorry.

“Please, you don’t have to do this.”

He’s done vile things to me, but he may be the only one to save me from Dean Alder.

“Please, I’ll do whatever you want. I was wrong to leave you. Wrong to question you. I’ll stay. I’ll behave. I’ll do whatever you say, but please… Please, don’t let him hurt me.”

Dean Alder wants me.

It’s the one constant that gives me hope I may actually survive, but the look on his face hardens as my hope shines. It’s as if he can read my mind and knows that I lie.

“Don’t.” Scott shoves the water toward me. “It’s too late for that.”

Is it my imagination, or is there the faintest regret in his words?

I feel more helpless than ever before.

My thoughts turn to escape, but my rational mind shoots those thoughts down. There’s no way out of here without help. I need Scott to see me as someone he still cares about; if that was ever the case in the first place. Or pray Zeb finds me before it’s too late—before Scott and Dean Alder make good on whatever they’ve been arguing about.

When I do sleep, Zeb is in my dreams, calling out words of comfort and strength. Those words become a mantra.

Don’t give up. You will survive. You’ll make it out of here alive.

“Thank you.” I take the water from Scott with shaky hands, gulping it down because I have no way to know when I might get more.

Suddenly, the air shifts. We’re no longer alone. The dean stands in the doorway, armed with a gun pointed directly at me.

“Time to go. You’re coming with us.”

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