16. Her

16

HER

DAY 4

H e'd fallen asleep on top of me. And for a brief moment, I saw him in a different light. In the very real darkness. I guess we all had our demons to fight—some were just more ruthless than others. Not that it excused anything the sick fuck had done to me. Just that it helped explain his motives.

Was this what Stockholm Syndrome felt like?

I was aware enough to realize there wasn't much of a chance of me getting out of here. If nothing else, the man was intelligent. Calculated. And I was no match for that. I could be tender or I could be cruel. I had a much harder time switching between the two.

Meanwhile, my friend here was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Sometimes both at once. It must have been exhausting. To have all that pent-up rage inside you.

Part of me wanted to reach up a hand and stroke his cheek. I was curious about the underlying damage, about what really caused him to become the monster on the outside that matched the one I recognized on the inside. It was obviously a result of trauma. Some sort of accident. And deep down, I knew it had to do with a woman.

Maybe I reminded him of her? Whoever she was…

I was so lost to my thoughts it took me a moment to hear the tapping. My heart thrummed in my chest when I realized it was coming from the other side of the door. There was someone else here. Which could either be my damnation or saving grace. Though one instance was much more likely…

But at this point, what did I have to lose?

"Help…" I hissed the word, simultaneously hoping that whoever it was could hear me and that the man whose full-body weight was presently holding me down couldn't.

There were a few beeps of a keypad before the door swung open with a loud screeching sound and the clanking of metal, revealing a blurry silhouette standing at the threshold. Their features obscured by a fuzzy mask and… bunny ears?

"Yo, Frankie," the baritone voice called out at the same time it hit me that this man wasn't my savior any more than the one holding me captive.