Page 4

My breathing is labored as I try to hurry. I have no idea if he will be back soon or how long he has been gone. Usually, by this time of night, he is in the room, forcing me to do unimaginable things to him.
Once the socks are on, I climb to my feet and quietly creep out of the laundry room. I never got to see the lay of the house when I first got here, since I was drugged and blindfolded. Hell, I don’t even know what state I’m in.
I keep my hand on the wall as I try to adjust to the darkness. There are no nightlights to lead the way, and I am too scared to turn on a light. What if he is waiting for me in the shadows, just watching and waiting to beat me to a pulp?
My heart pounds away in my chest. I’ll either die trying to reach freedom or die at his hands. And I would prefer the former.
When I make it down the long hallway, I come upon an open room. The light from the windows illuminates it enough for me to see that I have reached the living room. I try to quietmy breathing and the beating of my heart to see if I can hear anything, but there’s nothing. The house is completely silent.
Trying not to wince in pain, I tiptoe toward the front door. My hand is on the handle when I see lights coming down the street. I duck down by the door as I hear the garage door open.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
He’s home. What the fuck am I gonna do? I take a peek out the front window and see the car pulling into the garage. The front of the car is already inside, so I open the front door. I hear the car shut off and the garage door start to shut.
And that is when I make my break. I need to get as far as I can as fast as my legs will take me.
I slip through the front door and quietly shut it behind me, heading down the concrete path and taking a left once I hit the street. Then I fucking run.
With every ounce of strength in me, I push my legs as fast as I can, my feet hitting the pavement with such force it hurts, and I let out a whimper with each stride. As soon as I reach an intersection, I take a right and head down another row of houses.
And then I hear my name.
“Raelyn! Where did you go, girl?” My blood freezes, my stomach sinks. I haven’t gotten that far, and if he gets in that car, he will find me. I need to hide, and fast.
I quickly run toward a driveway with a boat in it. My feet pound against the pavement, my heels already sore from running. When I make it to the boat, I use what little strength I have to pull myself up onto the boat trailer, lifting the cover up just enough to slip myself inside.
On my hands and knees in the pitch black, I try to fumble through and find somewhere to hide. When my eyes adjust, I start opening anything I can to see if I can squeeze in. I finallyget to a door, and it leads down into a small bathroom. I immediately slide down into it and close the door behind me.
“Raelyn!” I hear him call out. It’s more of a controlled yell; he’s not yelling loud enough to startle people and draw attention to himself, but it’s loud enough for me to hear if I am nearby.
I can hear the footsteps hitting the pavement, the sound of it getting louder as he gets closer. That sound echoes in the space where I’m hiding.
Fuck. Please, don’t let him find me. Please let me get out of this.
“Raelyn! Come on, I won’t be mad if you come back home.” He sounds closer as his fake sweet voice rings out. “Just come home.”
Home. I almost want to let out a chuckle if I weren’t scared out of my mind. It was a prison. A prison I have no idea how I ended up in. One I thought I would die in.
One I hoped I would just die in.
“Are you hiding in here?” My body freezes as I hear him and realize he is near the boat. He taps the boat, and my heart races. Tears silently fall from my eyes.
He’s going to find me.
My body starts to shake uncontrollably with fear. My breaths are short and fast as panic creeps up my spine.
“Hey! What the fuck are you doing by my boat, motherfucker!” a voice rings out.
“Oh, sorry! I was just looking for my daughter. She ran away,” my captor tells the angry voice.
“I don’t give a fuck who ran from you. I’m calling the fucking cops. Because if you don’t get off my property and get the fuck away from my boat, you better hope they get here fast to save you from holes I will be putting in you.”
I hear what sounds like the racking of a gun.
“Woah. I’m going. I’m going. No need for the gun. I will call the cops to help look for her. So sorry to disturb your night,” my captor says as I hear his footsteps walk away from the boat.
“If I see you on my property again, I will fucking shoot you. Let this be your final fucking warning!” the voice yells at him.