Page 32 of When Sinners Rise
I frown and calm my hands, too pissed at the confusion raging through me, and eventually let go completely. I’m standing and walking backwards soon after, fucking lost in my own head.
“Just be quiet. Don’t speak again.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
MIRI
The longer I stay in here, the more difficult it becomes to stay positive.
He’s not forced himself on me again. In fact, the violence and physicality have faded. He’s more verbally aggressive.
“Heeeeellllppppppppp!” I scream and scream, over and over.
Banging on the door in a rhythm is about all I have to keep me occupied.
He’s told me not to. He keeps telling me to be quiet, but why would I do anything he asks? I’d much rather cause him as much grief as possible. And if that means screaming and shouting for all I’m worth, I’ll do it.
“Somebody! Anybody!” I keep up the calls, but not even Shaw rises to them. “Heeeeellllppppppppp!” My voice cracks at the end, and I cough and splutter, wishing there was a bottle of water left or anything else in here. At least he fed me.
I still remember the soggy food Naja and I were given on our trip from home over to London. I thought it was bad, the journey taking what felt like days, all the while being terrified.Naja protected me – she was like a rock – and I loved her for that. But I wasn’t naïve enough not to know what was going on. There are only a few outcomes for girls who get snatched off the street, and I’m living proof of that.
I rest my forehead on the metal door and try to track the passage of time since we got here. It was the evening. We’d had pizza. The bath. They were all moments that had helped stitch my fragile soul back together. They healed a part of me that made me finally feel content for the first time in a long time.
Would Bob raise the alarm? Would he have called Landon? Would Landon be looking for me yet?
I didn’t tell Willow much about this guy – not even a name. It was stupid. I should have, and now I feel like a fool. Mandy knew I was going to the restaurant, but that’s it; I didn’t think further than needing cover for our first date.
My mind runs to Peter and Tally and even Neil. They’d miss me, wouldn’t they? They’d tell someone? Someone would come looking. But nobody looked for us back home. Although, how would we know any different?
My head feels like it’s drowning in a tide of questions that only gets deeper and stormier.
“Shaw?” I call out. I’ve not heard from him in a while. It must be hours. The longest since he brought me here. I wait for a sarcastic or grim retort, but nothing comes. All I hear is silence.
A silence that is suddenly deafening.
He’s not here. There’s nobody here.
The irrational thought of dying of starvation in this cell leaps to mind.
I wouldn’t die of starvation; I’d die of thirst before that, but the sentiment is the same. A rise of panic brings me out in a hot flush as my pulse quickens and my breathing shallows.
“Heeeeellllppppppppp!” I start the screaming again, banging on the door and making as much noise as I can.
Then I wait. And repeat.
Nothing.
Looking around the room, like a countdown has been set off in my mind, I search for anything I can use as a way to get out. A broken brick, a dent in the wall I can work with. This place blew up. It must be structurally unsound. Suddenly, as I’m digging around on my hands and knees, I can smell that acrid burning smell that we inhaled as we ran to get out – ran to get free. It’s like I’m back there again. Only this time, there’s nobody coming for me.
My fingers keep scratching at a corner brick, seeing if there’s any give at all, but it’s still solid.
I roll over onto my back and look up at the ceiling.
And close my eyes.
My breathing evens out, and my pulse slows, staving off the encroaching attack of panic.
I think of being back on the grounds of Tallington, out by the lake. It was peaceful there. And beautiful. And I may never see it again.
