Every tendon and muscle in my body is ready to kick, to bite, to claw. I swallow it down and nod.
“Doing that again would be very bad. Do you understand? We have plenty of sedatives here. Or we could tie you up so you can’t move at all. We don’t want to do that. We don’t want to hurt your friend either. Okay?”
I nod again, tasting the burn of bile in the back of my throat.
He retreats to stand between Leah and the youth pastor–looking motherfucker holding Emma.
“Jesus Christ!” Greg says. It comes out more like “Jeshush Chisht.” He glares at everyone around him. “She broke my noeshagain!”
Leah says, “Calm down.”
“Fuck you, Leah. Anyone elshe notishe I’m the only one getting my shit kicked around here? Thish ish sho fucked!”
Haircut orders, “Go upstairs.”
Greg flees up the stairs at the far end of the room.
“Rough day for Greg,” I say.
“I understand this is very traumatic for you,” Haircut says. “What you’re feeling right now is understandable. It’s valid. Regardless, we’re going to need you to calm down and listen to what we say. We do not want to hurt you. I’d rather you be comfortable. But, if you don’t cooperate, we’ll punish your friend. If that doesn’t sway you, consider that your dog is upstairs. We’d like to spare her, but, again, if you choose not to listen, she will die in pain, wondering why you aren’t there to make it stop. Is that what you want?”
“How do I even know she’s alive? You could be lying.”
Haircut nods to Leah. While she’s taking her phone out of her pocket and flipping through it, I’m watching Haircut. Who’s the boss? Is it Ellis or this guy? Haircut is ordering people around, and they’re listening to those orders. Was Haircut communicating with the sheriff? Or someone else I haven’t met yet? How many people are in on this?
Leah turns her phone around so I can see the screen. It’s Ripley. She’s lying on a blanket in a bright room. Her eyesare closed. For one heart-stopping moment I am certain these people are showing me a picture of my dead dog, but the angle shifts, and I realize it’s a video.
“Riley,” a voice says. A bell rings in the back of my head, then goes quiet. “Hey, doggie, look here. Yeah, that’s it. Good dog!”
Ripley opens her eyes. There’s a spot of red on the blanket under her snout. She blinks slowly. The video ends.
Leah puts her phone back in her pocket. Her lips are smug, and her hair is in a stupid messy bun that’s still the perfect amount of messy despite everything.
Hurt her, the goblin says.
I would if I could—
reach the hand dangling too close to the cage, small bones crack between your teeth, warm blood coats your mouth, the thrashing animal on the other end shrieks and shrieks
My hand goes to my mouth. No blood dripping from the corners. No flesh stuck between my teeth. Still, the ghosts of porous bone and wet meat linger in my mouth.
Haircut looks relieved. “Right now, you just have to wait. That’s it. Just sit here and wait. Do you think you can do that?”
“What are we waiting for?” I ask.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
I stare at him. He didn’t answer my question, and he’s not going to. He keeps the same polite, unbothered look on his face.
“We’re going to head out now. Leah will be down—”
“I don’t have any money. Don’t know anyone with any either. If that’s what you want, you’ve got the wrong person.”
Leah huffs and rolls her eyes.
Haircut continues to ignore me and helps Youth Pastor secure Emma to another chain bolted into the cinder-block wall. She jerks out of their grip when the padlock clicks in place, linking the handcuffs around her wrists and the thick, metal chain together.
There is a series of chains spaced out on the white walls that I hadn’t noticed. One of which sits directly under a rusted brown stain on the wall.
