Page 69 of Keep Me Safe
This time was worse. Longer, and it made my head pound from the lack of oxygen. When I was sure I couldn’t hold it any longer?—
“Five more seconds,” he said.
The longest five seconds of my life. My eyes watered and pleaded with his. I was dizzy, lightheaded...
“Breathe.”
I gasped for air, doubled-over. “I’m gonna pass out.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll be?—”
The room went dark.
And abruptly light again. What the hell had just happened?
I lay on the bed now like I’d teleported here. A bandage clung to my side. There was a medical kit beside me, the paper open and a bloody hook with thread. He sat next to me on the bed, pulling off a pair of latex gloves.
“Well, you called it,” he said. “Once you passed out, I gave you something for the pain. You only needed a few stitches, which could have been avoided.”
Since he’d let his guard down, I wanted to make him pay. A leg was closest to me, so I moved fast and latched my teeth as deep and hard as possible into the meat just above his knee.
“Motherfucker!” He yanked me off and hurled me away, sending me face first into the low-hanging stairs.
My cheekbone felt like it had exploded. In my misery, I wanted to sink into the mattress, but I was up and scrambling away as fast as possible to avoid retaliation. He set one handaround the area I’d bitten, and the other hand opened and closed in a fist like that would help dissipate his pain.
“That really hurt.”
If he expected me to cower in fear, he was out of luck. I spat my words back at him with the same intensity. “I warned you.”
I was certain I’d pay for it, but it had been worth it. Surely, I’d broken the skin beneath his pant leg. He gathered the medical kit up, cursing occasionally when he moved his tender knee.
Then he went to the steps and disappeared up them. The bar latched shut, and the emotions I held back finally overtook me. My trembling fingers pulled the card from my bra, beyond relieved it was still there. The paper had softened against my skin, but otherwise it was unscathed.
Me? Not so much.
I stared at the writing, my fingers tracing the raised ink. What was Shawn doing right now? Was he thinking about me and still furious I’d done this? Would I ever see him again?
For the first time since my mother’s death, I truly cried.
25
KARA
Juric came downthe stairs after what seemed like ten minutes with a towel covering something in his hand. He tossed it beside me on the bed.
“For your cheek.”
It was an ice pack. I turned to him with surprise and was met by the phone he extended toward me, its shutter clicking. He’d just taken my picture. Then he plodded back up the stairs without saying another word.
I pressed the ice to my face and shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold against my skin.
Time dragged, hour after hour.
There was nothing to do in the small basement except sleep, but that was nearly impossible. Every creak of a floorboard overhead or a pipe running made me startle awake. My shoulders ached from the metal handcuffs. Was it day outside now? The lack of sleep and control made me crazy and jittery.
The pain medicine had worn off, and my cuts hurt now, almost as bad as the swollen cheek. And that hurt about the same as the knot on the side of my head from the fall down the stairs.
I cupped water from the faucet into my mouth since there was no glass. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten dinner last night since I’d planned to eat at the Osterhägen event. Would my captor feed me, and if so, could I trust it?
