Dean and I lock eyes before I’m pushed forward by a husky hand, and I almost trip on my stilettos.

“Cora…”

I glance over my shoulder before I reach the steps. Dean is pulling at his chains like he’s trying to reach me somehow. His eyes are swimming with worry and unease. It’s the same look I saw earlier when he was talking me through the worst moment of my life, trying to comfort me in the only way he could.

I bite down on my bottom lip as our eyes hold for another beat. Then the cold gun collides with the center of my back, ushering me up the staircase.

I can’t help but mull over Dean’s words as I’m guided through the small house with olive green carpet and outdated walls.

Believe it or not, Cora, I do fucking care about you.

Chapter Four

He doesn’t violate me again that night, and it’s a small solace.

The basement grows dark, so dark, shadowing everything around me. It takes a long time for my eyes to adjust enough to see Dean’s silhouette perched beside me against his pipe. It must be well past midnight, making it Monday—which means, if people haven’t already started questioning our disappearance by now, they will. I rarely call in sick to work, and I certainly never no-show. It would be a huge red flag to staff and co-workers.

And Dean is a well-respected employee in the union doing road construction. He works first shift. People will definitely start asking questions when he doesn’t show up today.

Dean’s foot slides against the floor, pulling my gaze in his direction, despite the fact that I can’t really see him. I hear him sigh as he adjusts himself and tries to get comfortable.

“You awake?”

His voice is a comfort I didn’t know I needed. “Yeah.”

I roll the back of my head against the pole, back and forth, and tap my bare toes in opposite time. I slipped out of my heels when Earl brought me back downstairs after the bathroom break. The break was short-lived, unfortunately—he shoved me into a tiny restroom with an oversized t-shirt that reeked of him, then ordered me to change. I climbed out of my shredded dress and replaced it with the white shirt, doing my business, brushing my teeth with a pink toothbrush he left out for me, and joining him out in the hallway a few moments later. He handed me a turkey sandwich and a glass of water and told me I had three minutes to eat. He timed it. Then he dragged me back down to the basement, cuffed me to the pole, and did the same thing with Dean.

He hasn’t been back since.

I squint my eyes through the shroud of darkness, trying to make out Dean’s outline. It looks like his legs are stretched out in front of him, facing me. I wonder if he can see me better than I can see him. I clear my throat, running my tongue along my upper lip. “I lied to you earlier,” I tell him, my voice ragged from crying, yelling, and lack of proper hydration.