And then he was in front of them. One boot inched forward, nudging Emerson in the side. ‘She’s not dead.’ It was a statement made as blandly as if he was stating the leaves are falling, and Addis wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or himself.

Yanking a dusty beer bottle off the warped crate that doubled as a coffee table, the man scooted it so that it was positioned in front of them but far enough away that their feet couldn’t knock it over if they kicked it. Then he turned and walked back to the door, closing it and shutting out the inky blackness of the night. The click of the lock was thunderous in its implication of what was to come.

Evidently satisfied they were secure for now, he returned and sat on the crate, leaning toward Addis as his eyes shifted away from Emerson and settled on her. She recoiled when he moved his right hand toward the blossoming, throbbing bruise on her face, and even though she wanted to look away from the evil in his eyes, she was too frightened, especially when he growled out his warning. ‘If you scream… Just don’t.’

What happened next wasn’t at all what she expected. With two fingers he tugged at the corner of the tape, wincing along with her as she involuntarily flinched against the pain. Each centimeter of sticky adhesive removed took another layer of skin with it, and she had to bite down on her tongue to stop herself from crying out, his warning ringing loud and clear in her mind.

When he switched his angle to face Emerson, Addis realized her friend was finally coming out of her drug-induced slumber, though the way her head flopped to the side hinted that she was still fighting the effects. Aside from a slight squeak, she, too, remained quiet as her tape was removed.

Then – nothing.

For what seemed like forever, the guy sat there, twisting a blue-stoned class ring around one of his fingers. Every few seconds, he’d sit up straight, run both hands through his hair and then return to fiddling with the ring. Addis was afraid to exhale, terrified of drawing his attention back to her. Carefully, she formed a small ‘o’ with her lips, releasing the air from her lungs bit by tiny bit, all the while keeping her eyes on the myriad of expressions crossing the guy’s features. On her last exhalation, he heaved a deep sigh and cocked his head to the side, mouth sagging open, staring, his face scrunched into a mask of confusion, almost like he’d forgotten they were even there.

It was in that moment that the realization of how young he truly was slammed into her. Her terror had kept her from noticing before now, but he couldn’t be more than a few years older than her and Emerson.