Chapter Thirty-Nine SCARLETT

Chapter Thirty-Nine

S CARLETT

Then

Ninety-plus days in the basement

My eyes were still adjusting to the bright sunshine when Tanner backed into a parking spot across from Mike’s Diner. Della’s bruised and battered body and swollen eyes still fresh in my mind, I watched the people passing by the van. They were in the real world, and I was trapped inside this toxic bubble.

The air was warm, and the sunshine on my face should have been intoxicating, but it was terrifying. I didn’t know how to act or behave on the outside.

Freshly showered, I wore an old checkered dress that was two sizes too big. I ran my fingers over damp hair. Tanner had forced me into the shower, turned on the hot spray, and handed me soap as he’d watched me wash away the dirt. When I was dry, he tossed the dress at me. Its rough poly blend felt as foreign to me as everything else in my life.

It was seven o’clock in the morning and the diner was filling up with customers. Most looked like tradesmen grabbing a quick hearty breakfast before the day’s work.

“Scarlett, go inside and order a plate of pancakes, extra bacon, and scrambled eggs.” He fished a twenty out of his pocket. “Also, three coffees and biscuits to go. Della’s in rough shape and will need to eat.”

“Why did you hurt her?”

He tightened his hand on the wheel, and for the first time I saw a flash of regret. “She made me do it. She knows better. Don’t make me hurt her more.”

“Is she going to be all right?”

“She’s tough. The bruises will fade.” He shifted in his seat as his gaze arrowed in on me. “Give any change to that little redheaded waitress and then tell her you saw puppies out back. She loves dogs.”

Accepting the rumpled bill, I crushed it in my fist. I looked toward the diner. “I don’t see her.”

“You will. Hair as red as fire. Her name is Tiffany. Remember, tell her there are puppies behind the diner. She can’t resist. I’ll be out back.”

His beautiful profile had twisted into a grotesque mask. How had I ever seen any beauty in those features? “Okay.”

“Remember Della. Don’t make me hurt her.” His voice softened. “I don’t enjoy hurting anyone.”

As I reached for the door handle, my heart pounded. I’d dreamed of freedom for months, but the cost was terrifying.

Strong fingers banded around my wrist, anchoring me in place. “I’ll make Della suffer so badly that they’ll hear her screams in the next state.”

“Is that what you told Della about the Other Girl?”

Surprise mixed with amusement. “I’m not shy about killing.”

I believed him. He’d kill Della like the Other Girl. I didn’t know Tiffany, but I knew Della. She was so battered and could barely move. Could she get her key and get out of that house? I wanted to believe she could, but God, she’d been in such bad shape. My last image of Della was her lying on his bed, curled in a ball, eyes closed.

“Meet me behind the diner,” Tanner said.

“Okay.”

“Swear.”

“I swear.”

I took a moment to straighten my dress and smooth the flyaway hairs escaping from my ponytail.

“Pay close attention,” Tanner said. “And don’t forget to smile. You look like a zombie.”

I didn’t glance at him as I opened the door and lowered my foot to the asphalt parking lot. My leg felt shaky, and when my second foot landed, it took a moment to secure my balance. I walked slowly toward the diner. A few people crossed my path as they rushed toward the front door and the breakfast they were clearly craving. My stomach grumbled, but my belly was tight with nerves and fear; I doubted I could keep anything down.

I reached the front entrance and walked inside, pausing at the door as I adjusted to the noise of conversations and the sheer number of people. I’d been in near isolation for months and now I was surrounded by noise, light, and sound. This was my chance to scream and yell and tell everyone here that I needed help. I had the power right now, until I thought about Della’s swollen face. If she wasn’t walking out of that house now, an escape attempt would mean death for us both.

As I approached, the smell of coffee drifted around me. I’d not had coffee in months, and the closest I’d come to a hot meal had been cold french fries. What would it be like to sit at a table and have someone bring me hot food? My mother had never been a great cook, but when we had money, she could order out better than anyone.

I shifted my attention to the waitress. Her hair was a dark red, and she’d pulled it into a ponytail secured with a pink bow. Her tightly tied white apron drew attention to her small waist. She was filling a cup of coffee for a big, burly man and laughing as he spoke to her.

How long would it take Tanner to snuff out that spark?

A uniformed cop walked up to the register, and as he paid his bill, he glanced at me. My throat tightened. If he offered his help now, Tanner would flee and drive back to his house and kill Della if she hadn’t escaped. The cop paid his tab, grabbed his bag, and left.

The girl behind the counter came up to me. “What can I get you, sweetie?”

I tucked a strand of freshly washed hair behind my ear. “Four biscuits.” My voice sounded rusty as I struggled to remember what Tanner had told me to order. “Pancakes and three coffees. And two biscuits.” Was that right? I couldn’t remember.

“You said four biscuits.”

“Okay,” I said quickly. “Sorry.”

“No worries, hon. Coming right up.”

I looked behind the counter to the kitchen and the back door. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw Tanner’s van slowly pulling away.

“You okay?”

I looked at the man standing behind the bar. He wore a white T-shirt, an apron, and a name tag that read Mike . “You look worried.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just hungry.”

“You here with anyone?”

I must have looked shady. “No.”

He studied me a beat and then returned to the kitchen.

Tiffany filled a stoneware mug for me. “While you wait.”

“Thanks.” I wrapped chilled fingers around the warm mug and slowly raised it to my lips. I blew on the hot brew and then sipped carefully. Hot, bitter, jarring. It tasted like the real world.

I wanted to be free. I wanted to escape Tanner’s basement prison. But Della. I looked at Tiffany’s smiling face. “There are puppies out back behind the dumpster.”

She grinned. “Seriously?”

I cradled the cup. “Very sweet. Little. Want to see them?”

“I got to work now.” She filled mugs with coffee for a couple of customers at the bar.

I tried not to stare at her even as I willed her to return. When she set the pot down and faced me, I said, “It’ll only take a second.”

Smiling, she motioned me around the counter, and we cut through the bustling kitchen. My temple pounded as amazing food smells swirled. My mouth watered as my stomach grumbled. Out the back screen door, I watched Tanner’s van roll slowly into place. He got out and opened the sliding door.

Scream. Scream. Call for help.

I clamped my lips shut as we moved closer. Della had done this to me. Come with me to my van. And I’d followed as willingly as Tiffany did now. Was she really trying to save the Other Girl, or had that also been a lie?

“Where are the puppies?” Tiffany asked.

“Hiding behind the dumpster,” I said.

“Aw, poor babies.”

“They looked hungry.”

Tiffany tucked a curl behind her ear. “I can get them hamburger. Mike won’t mind. He’s a dog lover, too.”

“Terrible when a puppy suffers.” I glanced toward the van and a smiling Tanner. It was that electric grin he’d tossed my way in the beginning. Now I wasn’t charmed, but chilled. “I saw the puppies just a second ago. There are at least three.”

Tiffany glanced up and for the first time saw the van. “Tanner. What are you doing here?”

He waved. “Hey, Tiffany.”

I moved toward the van and the dumpster on the other side. Tiffany’s confident footsteps thudded against the pavement behind me. I pictured what was going to happen. Tanner would shove a needle in her arm, she’d black out, and when she woke up, she’d be lying on the stained mattress in the dark basement room. She’d be like a new toy to him, and he would be excited to play. While Della and I watched, she’d cry, scream, and beg. He would laugh.

I stopped walking. Della, were you strong enough to get out of that house?

Clutching my fingers, I froze, whirled around, and my attention shifted to Tiffany.

I’m sorry, Della.

“Run!” My voice was weak, raw, and it took another deep breath and an image of Della stumbling out of Tanner’s house to force the word over my vocal cords. “Run!”

Tiffany’s smile crumpled into confusion. “What?”

“Run! Tanner’s going to kill you.”

I’m sorry, Della.

Tanner’s smile melted, and he lunged for Tiffany. But she was thin and fast and quickly angled out of his grip. Tanner howled his frustration. “I’m not going to hurt you!”

As she vanished inside the diner, he immediately charged me and grabbed my arm. Calloused fingers bit into my flesh, drawing my startled expression to the white-hot rage tightening his face. I tried to pull free, but he was a strong man, and he easily jerked me hard toward the van’s open side door.

I thought about Della running through the woods toward the main road. I thought about the basement room. I’d likely die there. My chest constricted. Who was I kidding? Della wasn’t running anywhere. She was as trapped as I was. She hadn’t saved the Other Girl, but maybe I could save her.

Balling up my fingers into fists, I struck Tanner in the face. I quickly drew back my arm again and hit him over and over.

Rage darkened his eyes, and he punched me so hard across the face. My teeth felt as if they’d rattled in my head as I fell to the ground.

As he hoisted my body, he said, “I’m going to enjoy cutting you and Della into pieces. It might take me days to finish the job before you die.” He threw me in the back of the van, and my shoulder hit the metal floor hard. The door slammed.

He was behind the wheel and jerking the car into drive. “Fuck you. Fuck you.”

Tanner punched the gas, and the tires spit up rock as the van lurched forward. I held on to the door as I tried to steady myself. My head pounded and my shoulder throbbed, but I knew Tanner was a man of his word. He would make me suffer.

He took a corner hard, throwing me off-balance, tossing me against the other door. My head struck the metal floor.

“I’ll start with your fingers,” he said. “The thumb or maybe the pinkie. Which finger will hurt the most?”

I tasted blood, coppery and bitter. “I’m sorry, Tanner. I’m sorry.” My voice sounded hollow and distant. I’d just trashed what was left of my life for a stranger.

“Oh, you’re not sorry yet. But when we get home, a few obedience lessons will redefine sorry for you and Della.” He punched the accelerator.

Rage, fury, and fear fused into my belly as the van hurtled down the road. Panic scraped my insides as I rose on my knees. If I accepted this now, I feared Della and I would die. My heart hammered in my chest as I wrapped my hands around his face and pressed my index fingers into his eyes.