However long we’ve been down here, we’ve already been conditioned to keep our eyes on the floor as we walk in a straight line to the bathroom. There are three stalls and no windows. Javier doesn’t join us in the bathroom, but he stands near the open door, preventing any form of escape.
I head straight to one of the stalls and nearly groan with the relief I feel. My hands are shaking, and I know it’s from more than just fear. I should be eating. Not doing so is only hurting myself. I’ll never be able to fight someone off of me or make a run for it given the chance if I haven’t had some form of nutrition in my body.
I leave the stall and head to the sink, keeping an eye on Javier’s reflection in the mirror as I wash my hands and splash water on my face. After using a towel to dry my hands and face, I take a step back and wait for the other women, exactly like we’ve been trained to do.
I can’t meet his eyes, but I feel them boring a hole into the side of my face. I manage to walk out of the bathroom without looking at him, but I swear his breath hitches when I pass. I get a sinking feeling in my gut that I’ve somehow landed on his radar.
Once back inside our cages, Javier makes the rounds and puts the locks in place, only he leaves mine for last. The sting is the only warning I get before the tears start to fall as he crouches back down in front of my cage.
When I meet his eyes, he presses a finger to his lips, telling me to keep quiet. My back bangs against the cage when I try to shuffle further away when he swings the door halfway open, but he doesn’t reach in for me. Instead, he pulls two packages from his pocket and sets them on the floor before pulling out the cold tray of food.
He doesn’t say another word as he situates the lock back in place before standing and walking away.
I stare down at the small pack of beef jerky and mixed nuts as if they’re a poisonous snake getting ready to strike. It takes long moments before I reach for them, and another hour after handling them to make sure there are no holes before I open them and scarf more than half of each package down. My stomach aches, having stayed empty for so long, but those pains are nothing compared to the hunger pains I’ve been feeling.
I fold the tops of the packages down and stuff the remaining food under the thin mattress on my cot. I don’t know if he’s going to bring me more, but I do know eating all of it at once will be foolish.
My eyes grow heavy once again, and this time I give in to the need for sleep.
I don’t know how long I’ve been resting but I’m well aware of the sound when the door to the room opens.
Angel walks by, his jaw as tight as ever, only this time the sound of a cage opening is directly to my left not four cages down from mine which has been the routine since we arrived.
“Please, don’t!” the girl beside me screams. I can’t see a thing that’s going on, but it’s clear from the banging and sounds of struggle that Angel is trying to pull her from her cage. “Get your hands off of me! Please, stop!”
I’m crying, nearly hyperventilating as I watch through the grate of my cage as Angel drags her away.
The door to the room slams shut, and unlike Lola, that girl, who I don’t even know her name, never returns.
Chapter 8
Thumper
I’ve never claimed to be completely sane. I don’t think you can join the FBI and volunteer for assignments that put you in danger of dying each and every day and have that claim hold water.
What I didn’t realize until this moment, as I smile at the video image of Cara stuffing beef jerky in her mouth, is I’m even a little crazier than I originally thought. Why does the sight of her eating something I solely offered to her bring me so much pride?
I’m not delusional. I know she doesn’t trust me. Hell, Lauren knows exactly who I am and what I’m here for and she doesn’t trust me. That’s why she demanded a bathroom break when I was paying attention to Cara. I can sort of understand Lauren’s reaction, and it has nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with the men in her life, the ones she should be able to trust, hurting her over and over. I don’t have all of Lauren’s background because she only talked about it once after having too much to drink, and even then, it was cryptic and filled with holes, but I know she had a very troubled childhood filled with abuse and heartache.