Page 51 of Choose Me

"Shut up," Margaret spat, lifting the gun and pressing it against my head.

"Don't hurt my baby."

"What baby?" She laughed humorlessly. "You'll live here until you give birth to my baby, and if you don't, I will cut you open and take my baby."

I looked back at her in horror, my eyes darting back and forth, trying to find some way out. "No." My voice shook.

"You have no choice," she growled, pushing me towards the mattress.

I grabbed the dirty mattress, trying to keep myself from falling into the wall, as she pushed me down onto my knees.

"You can't do this," I said in a wavering voice.

"Put your hands out."

"No," I cried.

In the blink of an eye, she raked the blade of a knife down my arm, slicing it open. I screamed in pain, my knees buckling as tears poured out of my eyes.

"I know how much my brother loved cutting into you," she said in a low voice, her fingers curling around my arm like a vice as she forced it into the metal restraint connected to the heavy chain. "I know where to cut to keep you alive. No one is coming to save you, so be a good girl and do what you're told, or I will cut your little boy toy into tiny little pieces and feed them to you."

I looked at her, pleading with my eyes, and she backhanded me across the face. I fell to my side, and she grabbed my other wrist and clicked the restraint closed, my door of freedom slamming shut in my face.

Everett banged on the door, rattling it in its frame, his voice muffled and frantic. "Let her go. You can have me. Leave her alone."

Margaret's face twisted in a sick smile, "This is interesting."

My breathing came out in short, hitched breaths, my throat tight with fear as she stood up and walked towards the door, slamming it shut and locking it behind her.

I stood up, trying to force the tears away. I looked around the room again, looking for a way to escape, but there was nothing. The only exit was the door she had just locked. I yanked at my chains with all my strength, testing for weaknesses, but they held firm. All I could manage was about six feet of chain before they went tight against my wrists.

I fell back onto the mattress, my wrists burning from the strain and my head spinning from the accident and the force of her strike. I curled into the corner of the mattress, my arms wrapped around my knees, and laid my head down, praying I would wake up somewhere else, far away from this nightmare.

28

TWENTY-EIGHT

EVERETT

The air was stale in the room, my body ached, and my head spun. The room was utterly silent, the silence so thick I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I stared at the door, willing Margaret to open it.

But she didn't.

I don't know how many days passed, but I was so fucking thirsty. I pressed my fingertips to my temples, rubbing them as I tried to think of how to get out of there and find Ava. I hadn't heard her in hours. We tried talking to each other, but there was too much concrete between us, and our words came out muffled and unclear.

"Let her go," I pleaded, my voice cracking as I pounded on the door.

Sometimes Margaret would respond with laughter, and I redoubled my efforts, slamming my body against the door; other times, it was silent.

The wound on my side had crusted, but I lost significant blood in the process, and I felt weak and exhausted. I don't know how long I would make it if I didn't get water soon. I slumped down against the wall, and my eyes fluttered shut. The footsteps outside my door sent my eyes flying open, and nervous anticipation coursed through my body.

The door creaked open, and I squinted against the sudden light. Margaret stood in the doorway, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

"Where's Ava?"

"Ahhhhh, now that's the question of the hour, isn't it?"

She kept her gun pointed at me.

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