Had he killed her?
Pain and fear filled her. She couldn’t let herself think that her best friend might be dead. She had to keep her wits about her. Savannah wasn't here, and that had to be a good thing. Maybe he just hadn’t been able to juggle three unconscious women, so he’d left her behind. Maybe Savannah would be able to ID the killer when she woke up, assuming the man had drugged her, as well.
Since she was restrained, the most valuable thing she could get at the moment was information. She had to gather as much of it as she could.
“What happened, Taylor?”
Tears brimmed in her green eyes. She was close to falling apart. “I needed some space. Time on my own to think. I asked my parents if they could leave me alone for a bit, so they did. He must have been waiting for me to be alone because they’d only been gone ten minutes or so when he came. I was making hot chocolate. I always loved to drink it at Christmas when I was a kid. I thought it might help. I was looking for marshmallows when I felt a prick on my back. I didn't hear him.” She began tocry softly.
“Do you remember anything else after that?”
Taylor shook her head. “I remember getting dizzy, and my body started to tingle and go numb, and then I must have passed out. Just like the day he took me the first time. I woke up when he was putting the handcuffs on.”
Frustrated, Chloe struggled restlessly against her bonds. Taylor didn't know anything helpful. She turned her attention to the other woman. “Hi, Avery.”
“You know me?” came the part-confused, part-relieved reply.
“My name is Chloe Luckman, I'm an FBI agent. My partner and I were looking for you. We had a couple of suspects; we were going to talk to Taylor and try to find out who it was when he grabbed us.”
“So, you don’t know who he is?” Avery awkwardly propped herself up on her elbows as best she could.
“No. Sorry. But my partner will figure it out. There was a friend of mine with me when I went to Taylor’s house—a colleague—he didn't bring her with us so she might be able to identify him.”
“Or she’s already dead,” Taylor said dejectedly.
Chloe grabbed hold of the fear before it could get a foothold inside her. She couldn’t let herself think that Savannah was already dead. “Do you know anything about him, Avery, that might help us?”
“Not really. He calls himself The Breaker. He wants to try to break all my bones one at a time before he kills me. He’s done it before.” She inclined her head at one of the walls where there were four large skeleton pictures hung on the wall. There were black marks on various parts of the pictures. “One is mine and the others are his other victims.”
“The third one is me,” Taylor said quietly.
“You'reone of his victims?” Avery sounded shocked. “Hedidn't tell me one of his victims was still alive. I thought they were all dead.”
“You did as he wanted,” Taylor said. “You have a cast on and a morphine drip. You must have done what he wanted.”
“What?” Chloe asked, confused.
“He doesn’t really care about inflicting pain. If you do as he says, he gives you a local anesthetic before he breaks a bone. Morphine, too. I didn't the first time, and he broke my thumb and refused to set it. I didn't want to do it.” Avery’s pale cheeks tinted pink. “But I didn't know what else to do. I didn't think I could survive the next break without the painkillers. I was lucky the first time, I only got a three. I wouldn’t have survived this two if I hadn’t told him I'd do whatever he wanted.”
“You got a three? A two? What does that mean?” she asked.
“You don’t want to know,” Taylor said.
Avery nodded, then lay back down against her pillows. “He said something about doing the breaks closer together. He thinks it will give my body less of a chance to shut down. He’s going to break one every forty-eight hours until he’s done or until I die, whatever comes first.” The last she said dully like she was already resigned to her fate.
Avery may be resigned to being tortured and dying here in this room—Taylor, too—but she certainly wasn't. There was a way to escape. Taylor had done it once already. Now there were three of them. They could do this.
“Taylor, how did you escape last time?”
“What does it matter? This time he has us all tied up. Last time I was free to move about the room.”
“There are three of us now. We can do it, Taylor. We can. Don’t give up hope yet. What did you do to get away from him last time?”
Taylor sighed but answered anyway. “He was ready to break another one of my bones after my leg. I don’t remember doingit, but he went to put the local anesthetic in my leg, and I just grabbed it. I caught him by surprise. I'd been so obedient up until then. I shoved it into his leg and pushed the plunger. He fell, and I just jumped up and ran. I think he must have left the key in the door, I don’t remember, I just remember stabbing him with the needle and running.”
Anesthetic.
That was a good idea.