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“Evie,” he interrupted softly. “Just…stay safe and don’t worry about me. I'll get us out of here.” He said those words more than others, so often that I began to believe them.

“But I need you to be safe too, Jackson. I love…if anything happened to you, I-I just wouldn't survive it. I'd go out of my mind⁠—”

“Listen to me. Please?” he whispered as I curled my hand into his hair, twisting the strands as he waited until I looked deep into his eyes. “I spent…the last seven years…thinking you were dead,” he murmured. “I would wake up in the middle of the night and swear I’d heard your voice…thinking you were visiting me…from the other side.” His jaw barely moved as he struggled to speak through a tense jaw.

“But you weren’t…because you were here, Evie. This whole time…you were right here.” His already-fragile voice shattered, his eyes glistening with tears. “So please don't worry about me…just stay safe up there…and I'll figure a way out…I promise you.”

“How?” I whispered, tears blurring my vision. “You’re chained…I’m chained. How are we supposed to get out of here, Jackson?"

He exhaled slowly through his nose, like he was forcing his body to stay steady. “I don’t…know yet,” he admitted quietly. “But I…will,” he added. “I’m not…sitting here waiting…for him to decide what happens…to us.”

A shaky laugh almost broke out of me, but it turned into something closer to a sob. “That’s not a plan,” I whispered.

“Evie, look at me.”

I did—even though it hurt to. Even though everything in me was screaming at me to not hope. He swallowed, throat working carefully around the swelling in his jaw. “I’ve been…in more pain than…this,” he said. “Losing you…hurt more…than anything…he’ll do to me.” He shifted slightly against the chains, wincing, but not stopping. “So I need you…to do something for me,” he added.

“What?” I whispered, my chest aching because I know the type of pain he’s talking about. It’s the deep-searing kind of pain that never goes away. It only gets worse.

“Stop thinking…we’re already finished,” he said.

I shook my head once, small and desperate. “But Jackson…”

“Right now,” he said quietly, “He wants us to give up…before we even try.” His fingers flexed against the chain instinctively, metal clinking softly. “I’m not giving…him that,” he finished. “And neither…are you,” he said, softer.

My lips parted, but nothing came out. Because I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t that simple, that we were chained in a basement under a house that swallowed hope whole. But he was still looking at me like I mattered more than all of it. Like I was still someone who could survive this, and that was almost worse than despair, because…part of me believed him.

“I don’t know how to do that,” I whispered.

Jackson’s expression softened immediately. “You already are,” he said. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t know whether to believe him…or be terrified that I did.

“Angel?!” Wayne yelled from above.

My stomach dropped so hard, it felt like it hit the floor before I did as Jackson paled. “Fuck. Don’t go!” he begged, thrashing against his chains as I stumbled back and turned to run up the stairs. Every step was too loud and too obvious, like the house itself was trying to get me in trouble. The door burst open just as I reached the top. Wayne stood there, and the moment his eyes landed on me, everything in my body locked.

“What the hell are you doing down there?” he snapped, grabbing my arm and yanking me into the hallway so fast, I nearly lost my footing. The glass of water tilted, spilling down the front of my dress in a cold shock that made me gasp.

“Water!” I blurted immediately. “I-I was just giving them water!”

Wayne’s nostrils flared as white-hot fear took over my body. “Water,” he repeated slowly. “While I’m up here, sick as a dog, waiting for you?” His voice rose, sharp and ugly.

“I’m sorry,” I rushed out. “I left just now, I swear! Y-you were asleep!” I pleaded, the glasses pressed against my chest as Wayne’s gaze flicked down my body and up to my face again, as if looking for evidence of my lies. I felt like he could smell the deception, but he didn't know what it was.

“If I find out you've lied to me, there will be hell to pay. Do you understand, little girl?” I frantically nodded, clenching my jaw so I wouldn't scream bloody murder when he gripped the back of my hair and dragged me down the hall. My feet stumbled to keep up, my vision blurring with pain and panic, the glass still clenched uselessly to my chest.

“We’re going to sit down and have a nice night,” he said, his fingers tightened again in my hair. “Then afterwards,” he added, voice lowering, “you’re going to behave.” My stomach twisted violently. “You’re going to do what I want,” he finished, as if it was already decided. “Aren’t you?”

I nodded, even though hatred replaced the blood in my veins. Wayne pulled me onto his lap as Jackson’s promise echoed in my mind.

Just stay safe up there, and I'll figure a way out.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

JACKSON

January 1st, 1993

Ishould’ve known it was going to happen when we woke up the next morning.