She removed the burger and fries from inside the bag and took several ravenous bites, hardly tasting the food, desperate to stop the burning hunger in her gut. Another bump from within. She dropped the burger to its wrapper and moved her unshackled hand to her rounded belly, placing her hand over the spot from where the tiny kick had come. She felt it again, her heart squeezing tightly in her chest as her breath hitched.
I’m not alone. You’re here, aren’t you?
It felt surreal. Like a miracle in the very last place she’d ever expected to encounter one. She knew it wasn’t—that it could be broken down into simple biology. Coarse language. She’d been raped and she’d conceived. But to Josie, it felt like more than that. Something that was only hers, something others probably wouldn’t understand the beauty of, and perhaps she didn’t either except on a level she could hardly explain. Starlight in a blackened sky. Blinking to life where before only darkness existed.
The tiny being inside her was already making his or her presence known, already grasping for life, fighting for its existence, staking its claim. And she was the guardian of that life. The protector. She was its mother. A surge of love washed through her, so suddenly and so strongly it stole her breath.
Strengthened her.
Gave her divine purpose.
It humbled her, caused a fierce protectiveness to grab hold.
It was up to her to stay alive long enough that Marshall would free her, or that she’d be found by someone else. A transient maybe? Someone looking to rent out the abandoned building where she was being held? Someone must own this lot. Even if she hadn’t heard anyone in many months, there were still possibilities of being found—things Marshall didn’t control. Reason for hope. She just had to hang on to it. Stay alive so her baby had a chance at life too. Or die trying.
It was all she had. All anyone had. To keep fighting with the tools available to you until your final breath. It was what the innocent life inside of her was doing—all he or she knew. It was what her own mother had never done, deciding instead to wallow in her own misery, to take out her anger and frustration and despair on Josie. To see her own child as the enemy, someone to beat down and use to relieve her pain.
Josie would not be her mother. Even here, she vowed. Even in a dungeon in hell. She was different and she would own that. No one could take it away. It was the tiny fire burning in her chest. Her own fight for life. Something that could not be stolen. Somethi
ng that would not be extinguished as long as she kept it burning.
“Okay, little fighter,” Josie whispered, moving her hand over the swell of her stomach. “This is something we’re going to have to do together. You get that, right? You keep fighting, and so will I. I promise.”
Josie picked up her burger again and took a bite. She wanted to stuff the whole thing in her mouth, eat every crumb, lick the grease from the paper. But she needed to start rationing. If Marshall was going to keep staying away for longer periods of time, she had to ration what she had so she wouldn’t starve.
She needed regular meals—even if they were pitifully small. A constant stream of nutrients for her baby.
She gathered her will power and wrapped half of the burger back up in the paper wrapper, along with half the container of fries. She threw the fry container in the bag, crumpled the napkins up and tossed the garbage over near the door. She didn’t know if Marshall would confiscate her rationed food or not, and she wasn’t willing to take the chance. She hid it under her mattress.
There was a crack in the wall that leaked when it rained. Not a lot, just a tiny trickle that would then flow into another crack in the floor. A few times when she’d been parched from thirst, she’d watched that small trickle moving down the wall and disappearing into the floor. It tortured her—relief that was so near and yet so far away. But now . . . now she had her hand free and she could catch the dripping water in her palm, bring it to her mouth.
Stay alive. Keep trying.
I will not die. I will not die, she chanted in her mind. I now have a reason to live. And that evening when she fell asleep, she wasn’t crying.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I’m going to make a quick trip into town to buy some labels,” Josie said to the detective with the square head and jowly cheeks. Despite his lumpish features and pockmarked skin, he had the clearest, most beautiful green eyes she’d ever seen. Something about his face was very . . . comforting somehow, and she wasn’t sure why but it was.
“I’ll come with you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Ma’am, with all due respect, it’s my job.”
Josie nodded. “I didn’t realize you guys would be staying at my house today as well. I hope you’re not too bored.” She gave him a small, nervous laugh. She felt awkward. Was she supposed to entertain him somehow?
“I hope I am bored,” he said, smiling. He had an endearing gap between his front teeth. “That’ll mean you’re safe and sound.”
“True enough.”
“And you just go about your business today. I’ll stay out of your hair. I’m here in a just in case capacity.”
“Okay then. Thank you, Detective.”
“Jimmy.”
“Jimmy.”