Page 17 of Saving Her

I have to work harder to forget them. I can no longer simply file their memories away in the back of my mind.

I need to eradicate every thought.

There were never any brothers who kept the sleazy teenage boys at bay. The tight-knit family didn’t exist. There was no generous, nurturing mother.

It was all a punishing dream.

“We can talk about it in the morning,” I murmur. “I’m too tired now.”

“Tobias mentioned the man being nice to you.” Abigail speaks softly. “Is that true?”

“Tomorrow, Abi.”

“But what if he can help us?” Chloe asks. “If he was nice maybe he can—”

“He can’t help us.” I add steel to my tone. “Nobody can. The sooner you realize that, the easier each day will become.”

The room falls silent.

I hate crushing their hopes. But it’s a necessary evil. I’m being cruel to be kind.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I just don’t want any of you to become optimistic. It’s better to expect the worst. One day we’ll get out of here, but it won’t be because some dark prince came to rescue us. We’ll be freed because we were smart and strategic. We don’t rely on others. Least of all men who are associated with Luther.”

They remain quiet, none of them accepting my apology because they’re still holding out for a hero.

I lay there in the bitter void for hours, long after Lilly falls asleep snuggled against me and Nina lets out a soft purr of slumber.

Like I anticipated, it’s well after midnight when the sound of a vehicle approaches outside.

Two car doors slam and moments later the thunderous footsteps of men ricochet off the walls. Lilly startles awake beside me. Chloe springs upward.

“Relax,” I whisper. “They just got home. You can go back to sleep.”

I wince through the placation because I’m not entirely certain everything is going to be okay.

Luther and his goons have been gone all day. He’s had enough time to stew on my behavior. To scheme.

Those pounding footsteps could be a sign of his renewed aggression toward me. The forewarning to a brutal punishment.

The bright glow of the hall light flicks on, seeping into our room from the gap around the door.

There’s murmured conversation, then Tobias’s sweet voice saying, “But Baba, I want to go back to sleep.”

“He woke Tobias,” Lilly whispers. “Why would he do that?”

A rumble of chatter builds in the hall. A dark, aggressive reaction to the little boy’s protest, which encourages my heart to beat faster.

I throw back the covers, crawl to the end of the mattress, then tiptoe my way to the door.

“What are you doing?” Nina peers down from the top bunk. “Get back in bed. If you’re caught snooping…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t need to. I already know the consequences and I don’t quit my approach. I don’t stop until my ear is placed to the doorframe and the now softened conversation becomes clear.

“We need to work together, son.” It’s Luther, his lowered tone filled with discipline. “This is important.”

“Okay, Baba,” Tobias replies. “But I’m tired.”

The booming footsteps return. Approaching.

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