Page 84 of Playing Hard to Get

“Go,” he told me as he ripped open his pack.

I didn’t wait for any more words. Rushed through the living room and toward the hall. Found Lee and Barnes tending to Davidson. Motioned to Weston to search upstairs while I went down. To the only area of the house the infrared cameras showed signs of a body. The treads creaked as I descended. The light faded to nearly nothing, the basement lit by only dim, bare lightbulbs hanging on chains from the ceiling.

I searched the space carefully but quickly. Cleared every room except one. It had a padlock attached to the outside, the lock hanging open but keeping the door shut. I pulled out my handgun. Flipped the padlock off the latch and watched it tumble to the floor. Then I pushed the door open and peeked inside.

The room smelled like death. Like sewage and sweat were seeping out of every wall. It was pitch black and I couldn’t see a thing. Pulled out my flashlight and shined it into the room. My breath caught when I saw what was waiting for me inside.

19

Vivian

The gunshots startled me but gave me the cover I needed. I grabbed the rotting two-by-four I excavated from the dirt floor using my bare hands and the spoon Jason dropped the last time he bothered coming downstairs. I gathered as much of my waning strength as I could and swung at the porcelain base of the toilet. It shattered, spilling its contents onto the floor at my feet. I swung again, and again, until the bowl collapsed to the ground and I could pull free the chain that bound me to that corner.

Footsteps overhead rained down dirt and dust in the darkness. I listened carefully, trying to prepare for whatever was coming.

When Jason ran from the room days ago, when he raced away and left me locked alone in this little hell, I tried not to let it bother me. I tried not to worry that he’d never come back, that no one would ever find me. But when he did return a couple days later, I wished that he hadn't. Fearing that he’d show his face downstairs, I filled in the hole I'd painstakingly dug in the floor. I covered it with my blanket and prayed he wouldn't notice the blood and filth that covered my body.

His agitation was clear to me as he paced the floor upstairs night and day. I used the sporadic few hours of silence that he gave to finish unearthing the hunk of wood.

I'd barely slept in days. Hadn't eaten a thing since I finished the last piece of moldy bread yesterday. But I wouldn't sit back and wait for death to take me. I'd fight it head-on, in whatever form it came.

I stood at the ready as the gunshots died down. Held that hunk of wood like a baseball bat, ready to swing for the fences. Footsteps overhead nearly drowned out the sound of someone descending the basement stairs. There was a rattle at the door before it creaked open. A hint of light fell through the opening and I used it to align myself with the form of the man standing there outside the door.

The flashlight that poured in stung my eyes. I squinted into the light and tightened my hold on the two-by-four. The figure at the door didn’t come rushing in. Instead, the light dropped to the floor.

“Viv?” The rumble of his voice tempted me to drop my guard. But I wouldn't fall for that trick. Jason got me to drop my guard at the bar and I refused to do it again.

The light moved, shined up at the person holding it. Dark eyes were illuminated, dark hair lit up like fire in the glow. The gorgeous face staring back at me shook me to the core.

“Mitch?” The name tumbled from my lips, followed by a whimper.

He dropped one hand, shoving something into the belt on his hips. The other hand kept that flashlight trained on his face.

“Viv, it's me,” he said, his voice quiet, strained. “Put the weapon down, sweet girl.”

Without meaning to, I dropped the wood and it clattered to the ground. Mitch took a tentative step toward me, like he didn’t believe it was me. That was exactly how I felt. Like it had to be a dream, because there was no way he could have known I’d be here, no way he could have tracked me down to bring me home.

It was when I took a step toward him that the world came to life. Mitch rushed to me and scooped me up into a warm embrace. Pressed his face into the crook of my neck and let out a quiet cry. I squeezed him back, let the wave of his whispered words wash over my skin.

“I love you, sweet girl. I love you so much. I’m here. I’m here.”

Before I was ready to be released, Mitch loosened his hold on me. Pulled an arm away from my back and said something that had me more confused than his presence.

“I got her, Vin, she’s safe.”

Cheers called out from upstairs, and a tinny echo of it erupted near my head. Mitch’s arm returned behind me and pulled my body close. But I couldn’t ignore my confusion, couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“Mitch,” I said, my voice rasping out through my parched mouth. “What’s going on?”

“We came to get you, sweet love,” he said, his lips against my ear.

“Vinny?”

“Right here.” Mitch’s hand reached up to his face, pulled something I couldn’t see off his ear and held it to mine.

“Viv?” Vinny’s desperate voice pleaded through the plastic at my ear.

“I’m here, Vin,” I told him, my throat so tight.