I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There was a prisoner being held mere feet away from my house. A girl—I knew she was younger than me, she didn’t even have boobs, so I pegged her around eleven, twelve. No older than thirteen.
And my father was holding her captive. I could hardly wrap my head around the thought.
“I need you to trust me.” I took a deep breath, as my brain tried to come up with the right thing to say. How could I earn her trust when I left her here once already? “Let me take the tape off.”
She screamed again, the sound louder this time, and she shook her head furiously, her hair going everywhere. Her arm lifted and she pointed an accusatory finger at me and it was like she stabbed me in the heart.
Blame. That’s what I felt. She blamed me for leaving her.
I couldn’t hold it against her. I had left her. But what was I going to do? I’d freaked out. I almost didn’t believe what I was seeing.
“Let me make it up to you,” I whispered as I scooted closer to her. She eyed me warily, the tears still spilling down her cheeks, the stretch of tape covering her mouth, the entire lower half of her face. “I’ll take the tape off. We can talk.”
First time I found her, I’d barely spoken to her. I’d panicked, not knowing what to do.
Now, tonight, I planned on doing the right thing.
I approached her like she was a wild animal and I wanted to tame her, moving slowly, an inch at a time. I never let up on talking to her, trying my best to soothe her with a low voice and reassuring words. She never took her gaze off me as she sat trembling against the wall.
Until finally I was right next to her and I reached out, touching the tape with my fingers. She flinched but didn’t jerk away, and I took that as a good sign. “This is going to hurt,” I murmured. “I’m going to rip it off. Better that way.”
Before she could give me any sort of sign that she approved or protested, I tore the tape off her face with one vicious tug. A sob escaped her the moment the tape was gone, the sound startlingly loud in the storage shed, and she toppled toward me, her wrists wrapped in the same chain that circled her ankle. I caught hold of her, her face in mine as she started to babble.
“Take me away from here, please. I need to find my mom and dad. My sister. My friend. Please take me somewhere safe. Please. Please, I’ll do anything. They’ll pay you. I promise.” She started to cry and I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her close, patting her back awkwardly. I didn’t know what else to do, how else to comfort her, but she never said a word. Just cried on my shoulder, her tears soaking through my shirt, her painful sobs hurting me, too. My chest ached. My throat and eyes burned.
I’d never seen such an outpouring of emotion and fear. Never had someone affected me this way. I felt her sobs, muffled by my shoulder, wrack her thin, trembling body.
What had my father done to her?
I couldn’t begin to imagine.
“We’ll leave,” I whispered as I tentatively rested my hand on her hair. Anything I could do to reassure her. “Later tonight.”
She leaned away from me, the horrified expression on her face one I’d never be able to forget. “What do you mean, later?” She shook her head. “I can’t wait. I have to get out of here now.”
“We don’t have a choice,” I said firmly.
“He’ll come back,” she countered. “Ev-every time he comes back, it’s worse. I don’t know if I can—if I can stand it.”
I took a deep breath, pushing all thoughts of what he might have done to her firmly from my brain. “It can’t be helped. I have to prepare first.”
“Prepare what?” she practically shouted. She pulled out of my embrace, pressing herself against the wall, like she couldn’t stand to be near me. The chains clanked against the floor, reminding me that she was a fucking prisoner, and disgust filled my stomach, making me nauseated. It took everything within me not to turn my head and puke my guts out. “Do you have the key?”
I frowned. “Key to what?”
“To these?” She lifted up her bound wrists, then her foot, showing the tiny lock that held the chain onto her ankle. “I need these chains off.”
I shook my head, feeling unprepared. How was I going to get that damn chain off of her? “I need to find bolt cutters.”
“You need to get me out of here is what you need to do. Now.” She stressed the last word, her tears all dried up, determination written all over her face. Her blue eyes shone, still damp with tears, and I was suddenly taken with the realization of how pretty she was. “He’s going to kill me, you know.”
My mouth went dry. How could she be so composed, so calm, while she said that? “No he won’t.”