Page 16 of Taint
ONCEI calm down, Cash collects the syringes and leaves me alone to go ‘take care of a few things’. I can only imagine what those things are. He also locked the door behind him, so I couldn’t escape. Surprise, surprise. He’s not gone for long when I hear the door unlock again, and he fills the doorway. The closed off Cash I met in the beginning faces me now. No emotions, but full of secrets. The only way he’s going to get away with kidnapping me is to either kill me, or never let me go. He will never set me free after all he’s admitted to. Why would he keep me alive if I was just a means to an end?
“Come on.” He backs up to the wall, giving me space to exit.
I peek out the door, looking both ways, and wonder what awaits me. The hall is empty. The only boogie man is the one in front of me, lounging against the wall, his hands behind his back and a foot kicked up. The effect is supposed to be non-threatening, but his body is stiff like a coil ready to spring. He watches me cautiously, as ifhe’s deciding if I’ll run or not, and then pushes off the wall and starts walking down the hall.
I have no other choice than to follow him. His large frame fills the middle of the hall, making it seem smaller than it really is. As we walk, I glance from side to side, peering into rooms. The lights are off, though, and I can’t make anything out. Which is probably a good thing, because I don’t need to know more than I already do. It’ll just be more information for Cash to hold over my head.
“Where are we going?” I ask, as I watch him move in front of me.
He turns his head to the side, and my feet falter at the expression on his face. “To my place. Where I can keep you safe.” Confused, I stop walking and stare at him. Cash turns around and mirrors me. “You didn’t think I’d lock you up like an animal, did you?”
When I don’t respond, he bows his head and sighs. Turning back around, he begins walking again. After a few twists and turns, we exit the building to be greeted by the last rays of the setting sun. How long was I out? I follow him toward a car, not the truck he’s been driving in Trinity, and he unlocks the door. He opens it for me, but I hesitate before climbing inside.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Hazel.” His voice sounds the way I feel. Sad and resigned.
“You already did,” I whisper.
My thoughts wander all over the place as he drives us into Hattiesburg. He said he wasn’t going to hurt me, but after lying to me this entire time, andhaving his friends kidnap me, I’m not so sure. Cash makes Snap—the one thing that has destroyed my life. In essence, Cash has obliterated my happy little existence. I would like to believe that he’s telling me the truth, but I’m a little apprehensive as we drive through the city to the outskirts, and then he veers down a country road. If he were going to hurt me, he’d have shown signs of that already, right?
My hand grips the side of the passenger seat when he turns into a driveway. The gravel crunches under the tires as we round a curve and a house appears in the headlights. Cash punches a button on his visor, and the garage door eases open. It’s empty, but there’s enough room for two cars, and it’s very organized. Shelving along the walls contain tools and storage containers. The car shuts off, and a moment later the door closes behind us, trapping us inside. My body jerks as the door grinds to a halt. The headlights turn off, surrounding us in darkness.
Cash gets out of the car, and a light comes on. I’m able to see again, tamping down my anxiety some. He shuts his door and opens mine.
“Come on,” he says, offering me his hand.
I study it but decide against taking it. Instead, I use the door for leverage and ease myself out of the seat. Cash’s hand drops to his side, and he steps back to give me room. We don’t speak as I follow him through the door into the house. He stops in front of me to turn on another light before walkinginto the cute little country kitchen.
“This is your house?” I ask, doubting it.
It’s decorated in antique kitchen wares and chickens. Cash seems like the kind of guy who would have minimal decor and stainless-steel appliances.
“It’s my grandparents’ house,” he says over his shoulder as he sets his wallet and keys on the counter. “This is where I grew up.”
He turns and leans against the counter, watching me as I take it all in. When I turn back to him, he’s studying the marks on my neck again. Self-consciously, I raise my hand and rub my neck as I turn away.
“I’m going to make us something to eat. Would you like to take a shower?”
“Yes, please.”
He steps up to me and covers my hand with his, pulling it away from my neck. I’m tormented with emotions that I felt toward him just weeks ago and what I should feel for him now. He’s a drug dealer, and he lied to me. He used me. But I can’t deny the way my heart gallops when his fingers lace with mine, and he stares into my eyes. Right when I think he’s going to say something, he turns and pulls me behind him.
We walk down a hallway lined with family photographs. They are so happy. But the closer I look, the more I notice Cash’s chocolate eyes held that stone wall even at a young age.
He wasn’t lying when he said he’d been cute his entire life. With each photo we pass, his face loses the childish,chubby cheeks, growing leaner and more defined. I glance at the man he’s become as I follow him toward the bathroom. Just before we near the end of the hall, one photo catches my attention, and I pause in front of it. Cash is about thirteen, not quite boyish and not quite manly, trapped in that awkward stage. His smile is what draws me in, though. Lining his teeth are shiny metal brackets and wire.
I smirk, remembering the comment I made to him. Cash chuckles when he sees what I’m looking at, showing off his now perfect teeth.
“Don’t say a word.” He laughs again and tugs on my hand. A few feet away, he ushers me into the bathroom. “I’ll bring you some towels and clothes. Take all the time you need.”
He closes the door, leaving me alone. I take a deep breath and turn toward the tub. Sliding the glass door open, I start the shower to let it warm up. The steam trickles out the gap as I take my clothes off. The sight of myself in the mirror is a ghastly one. I hurry and shed my clothes to hide my body behind the shower doors. They are too see-through for my taste, but it doesn’t take long before they fog over enough to block the view entirely. The chill of the air conditioning, mixed with the heat of the shower, gives me goosebumps. Sliding under the spray to warm myself up, I attempt to relax and let myself work through all my emotions. They must be as confused as I am. One emotion after another assaults me as I swing back and forth between them.
Robotically, I reach forthe shampoo and pop the lid, squeezing some into my palm. The smell of coconut hits my nose, and I stop and stare at the bottle. It’s my favorite shampoo. Setting it down, I pick up the other bottles. They are replicas of the ones in my own shower. My hands form fists as I wonder how far in advance he planned this.
Tears stream down my face, the water washing them away as they drip onto my chest. My legs tremble as I attempt to quietly contain the rage. Slipping down the wall, I wrap my arms around my knees and bury my face away from the pelting water, allowing the tears to run free. The droplets that hit the whip marks cause my skin to tingle and burn slightly, but not as much as they did a week ago. A distraction that helps pull me from my inner torment. Eventually, my body will heal completely, and I’ll be forced to deal with myself. Until then, I’ll use the pain to push the nightmare from my mind.
Cool water brings me back to my senses, and I rise to complete my shower before I freeze. When I turn off the water and open the door, I find towels on the sink with a toothbrush on top. My personal overnight bag sits on the floor.
They went through my stuff and packed a bag for me?
