JODIE
As much as I hate to admit it, doing what Mum suggested and complying with Jonas’s crazy-arse demands did allow us some sort of freedom.
He did feed us, although it was barely worth the effort of chewing. And we both did get to have very quick, accompanied, trips to the bathroom. Trips that involved us being blindfolded so we couldn’t get a sense of where we were.
All I know is that there are two flights of stairs to get to the bathroom, and inside there’s one small boarded-up window. The room itself is old—a similar size to ours but with a slightly different layout.
I craved to stand under the shower in the dirty old bath and feel hot water rain down on me.
I was filthy, my hair was gross, my skin dry and itchy. Those things are the only way I could tell how long we’d been locked up for. I can usually pull off two days without washing my hair. At this point, we’ve definitely been down here for at least four.
My hopes of Toby finding us and getting us out of this hell are starting to wane.
We have no idea where we were; how the hell was he meant to figure it out?
Clearly, we’re not in their family basement where Toby used to be locked up. He’d have tried that. He’d have looked there. I’m fucking sure of it.
The man who’s escorted me to pee rips the blindfold from my face, and a large palm presses between my shoulder blades, shoving me forward. I manage to make it down the first few steps before my foot catches and I stumble, crashing to the ground with a pained cry.
“Jodie,” Mum gasps, rushing forward as the man at the top of the stairs laughs. The deep evil rumble flows through the air around us before the heavy door swings shut and the locks engage.
“I’m okay,” I breathe, pain shooting up my arm. “I’m okay,” I try again, hoping that at some point, I might just start believing my words.
I manage to get myself up, and I curl up with Mum on the makeshift bed we’ve made for ourselves.
“This isn’t working,” I hiss. “He’s not getting complacent, we’re just feeding his need for control.”
“He’s going to slip up. He has to.”
“And what if he doesn’t?” I snap. “If we can’t find a way out of here, and they can’t find us, then what?”
“I don’t know,” Mum whispers, sounding more defeated than ever.
“You know him better than anyone. You’ve put up with this… bullshit all your life. You have to know his weakness.”
“He hasn’t got one. Not while he’s got us both under lock and key. We’re the only thing he wants in the world. And he’s got us right where he wants us.”
“Surely his game plan isn’t to keep us down here forever? He’s going to have to let us out eventually.”
The look on her face asks, does he? but I refuse to believe that’s the truth.
He’s had months to plan this, and he’s clearly had some help. I’ve identified two different men who have escorted me to take a piss. But who are they? And why do they feel the need to help that cunt?
The minutes tick by, the ache in my arm only getting worse. At least we’ve got light now. Not that it allows us to see anything good.
Everything down here is cold and dank. The concrete floor is black with damp, and it’s slowly growing up the dirty grey walls. At some point, Mum started coughing, and I have no doubt it’s the spores that are causing it.
We have no concept of time down here, nor whether it’s day or night outside. The window has been so well boarded up, there isn’t even a slither of light that comes through it. And I’ve tried everything in my power to pull it down. But with nothing down here but a few thin blankets and my own fingers, escaping is far from a possibility.
I have no idea how much time passes again before the sound of heavy footsteps pounds above us.
My stomach knots, knowing that he’s back. Dread seeps through my bones as we wait. We’re always his first port of call when he reappears, coming to greet us as if we’ve been waiting for him to return from a hard day’s work.
He gets closer, my heart picking up speed in my chest before the locks release and the door is swung open.
“My girls,” he announces. “I’ve got a treat for you tonight.” His smile that follows is manic, and it sends fear shooting through my body.
“That sounds wonderful, darling,” Mum breathes, smiling sweetly up at him. Her fake happiness sets my teeth on edge. But while I might not agree with her plan to pacify him into fucking up, I also don’t have a plan B. Kicking off and screaming in his face is a sure-fire way to ensure our stay in the basement only continues.