Page 64 of Left In The Dark

Not here. All I have to do is obey the rules and I get praised for it. I’m complimented and encouraged to keep up the good work. My efforts don’t go unnoticed by my captor and it doesn’t take much out of me either. I forget I’m doing what he asked me to do sometimes. It’s more work not to.

The barn doors creek and I squeeze the water bottle between my fingers, lifting myself slowly onto my knees. It shakes and someone curses on the other side of it, and I look around me as the back of my neck prickles. He has a key. He wouldn’t need to tug on the doors or lock. It’s someone else.

I should yell for help, and I start to before my throat clogs up at the first sounds exiting my mouth.

“The asshole locked it,” someone shouts from outside. “Why would he lock something I fucking paid for? What right does he have?” The doors rattle some more and my stomach tightens as the guy screams from the other side.

He’s so angry, and I bury myself deeper under the covers, flattening myself against the mattress when his fists pound at the wood. Fear creeps into me. I could call for help, but would he help me or would he be worse?

Everything goes quiet around me and I think he’s gone, breathing easier until there’s a hard object hitting one of the covered windows. Why does he want in here so badly?

I roll into a ball, covering my ears, and my hands shake as flashback pops into my head. My dad’s kicking at my car door. It was years ago when I was in high school and hanging out in the back seat with one of my friends. I couldn’t get the car to start because it was out of gas, and he broke one of the windows, dragging me out by my neck. It took weeks for the marks he left behind to fade. My mom asked me to do dishes, and I kept telling her I’d do them later.

My dad’s screams turn into someone else’s and I’m back in the barn, hoping whoever’s outside gives up soon.

Please, please go away. I thought they would be the person to get me out of here, but what if I’m wrong? What if they use their fists against me the way they are on the barn walls and doors? I peek my head out of the blanket when the banging stops. Minutes pass and an engine roars. Tires screech on the dirt as the car drives away.

He’s leaving. The purring grows more distant, and when I can no longer hear it, I sag in relief. All that panicking and my thoughts wore me out. I stretch my body out, folding an arm under my head, and I yawn. He’s gone. My chest lightens but grows tight again as a dark feeling comes over me.

He’s gone and I’m still stuck here.

The what-ifs are back. They circle in my head, causing me to toss and turn until I’m too tired to so much as blink my eyes.

Twenty

Logan

I shut the engine off as soon as I’m parked in my driveway. Going way over the speed limit, I drove home as fast as I could after looking at the video footage of my dad showing up at the house. He was circling the barn, looking through the windows and trying to get in anyway he could. I wasn’t able to have my phone with me at the academy, so didn’t see what was going on until after it already happened.

There are no missed calls from my dad, so I’m hoping that means he didn’t get inside and see Blake. At least I’m assuming he didn’t. I swing the door open and step outside, looking around me to make sure no one’s around. My mom is staying with a friend again, one she won’t tell me much about, but as long as she’s happy wherever she is, that’s all that matters to me.

Plus, her being gone means less risk of her finding out about what I’m hiding from her. I don’t plan on bringing him into the house again anytime soon, but I worry he’ll be too loud whenever she’s close by or she’ll ask why I spend so much time in there. It’s only a matter of time before she comes out here to check on me.

My boots kick the dirt as I pound them into the ground, making a beeline for the double wooden doors that appear closed. The lock hasn’t been picked and the chain is still tightly wrapped around the door handles. He didn’t get in.

I laugh, shaking my head at myself. Fuck. That was a close one. It keeps getting closer too. I can’t keep Blake here forever, but I don’t know where else to move him to. My mom keeps talking about moving out to where my aunt lives for a new start, and maybe if she does, my dad will have no reason to keep coming here. Or will he only come here more, hating that she left the house to me when I’m the last person he wants owning it?

I reach inside my shoe and slide one of the keys on the ring into the lock, then shove it back under my foot when the doors are open. I rush inside a close it behind me, sliding a wooden board through the inside handles. My dad hasn’t been back since this morning, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be.

“Hello?” I call out, tugging a mask on, and shuffling comes from the loft. I look up at the moving figure and turn on my voice changer.

The ladder shakes as I stomp my way up it and Blake backs up on the mattress blinking his eyes. He looks half asleep with messy hair and soot on his cheek. I hate how adorable he is right now. How adorable he is every time he first wakes up or gets sleepy.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I greet him again. “Have a good rest today?”

He nods, eyes bouncing around me. “There was a man here.”

“Yeah,” I grunt out. “It was a confused old neighbor who gets drunk and wanders to the wrong house sometimes. You don’t have to worry about him.”

“My dad used to get drunk and wander into the wrong room sometimes. He’d blame me whenever he confused me for my mom like I was the one who made the mistake.”

My heart aches. “That’s . . . your father is a prick. And you want to go back there?”

“I . . .” He looks distraught, staring at his shaking hands. “I don’t know where else I would go when you think it’s time to set me free.”

“You don’t have any other family?” I ask when I already know the answer.