Break Me

The lights automatically go on inside, and I take a deep breath and step in.

I scan the room as my heart beats against my chest, then close the door behind me. Without turning around, I lock the door, using the three dead bolts, and then punch in the code so that the security system’s call center knows I am in for the night.

I walk around the kitchen to make sure each window is locked before walking into the dining room, then across the hall to the family room, doing the same. I then peek my head in my parents’ old room, seeing the closet doors are wide open and empty, as is the room.

After checking all their windows, I check the bathroom, making sure to look behind the shower curtain. Everything looks good.

“Come on, Boots.” I call him to the bathroom.

He walks in and sits by the tub, licking his paws while I lock the door and dead-bolt it.

I undress fast, then start the shower. While waiting for it to heat up, I brush my teeth and wash my face. I use the toilet, close the lid, set a towel on top of it, and Boots jumps up and sits while I get in the shower.

I wash and condition my hair quickly, then shave my underarms and legs even more quickly. I scrub my body with a swiftness that I have grown accustomed to and am out of the shower in seven minutes flat. I then dress in the nightclothes I brought from my room this morning and towel off my hair before brushing it.

I take a deep breath, grab the bat, and unlock the door. I open it, holding my breath the entire time. When I walk out, I look ahead at the stairs. I hate the stairs, which is why the entire stairway is enclosed in plywood and secured with enough screws and nails that it would not go unnoticed if someone went up there without permission or a sledgehammer.

I grab an already prepared salad out of the fridge and a bottle of water. Then I look at the clock and start to feel anxiety rise. I grab another water bottle, knowing I need it for both of the cats’ water dishes.

“Come on, buddy,” I call to Boots as I walk to the doorway and punch in the code to the thick, steel door. As soon as I open it, Boots heads down the stairs, knowing the drill.

I step on the landing, close the door behind me, lock the three dead bolts, the chain lock, and the one on the doorknob, and then I walk down the stairs to the basement where Socks, Boots’s brother, is waiting for us.

“Hey there, did you have a good day?” I ask as he stretches his back, then his front paws, and stands.

I grab the keys next to the door to my room downstairs and unlock it. The lights automatically come on, and once Boots is inside, I lock it—all three dead bolts, two chain-link locks, the doorknob—and finally feel like I can breathe.

I set the food and water on the small table that also acts as my desk and look around my twelve by twelve bedroom. There are no windows and one thick, steel door. The walls are bare, I can’t look back on family pictures. I exist down here with just what we need to get by.

I bend down and pick up Socks. “We’re going to be okay. We’re going to make sure of it. We’re not alone.”

After a few minutes, I set him in the recliner near the bed with his brother and pick up the picture of my family. I run my finger over the frame, then the side of each of their cheeks and whisper, “I’m so sorry I was late.”

Chapter Three

Blinking, the light burns my eyes, so I close them again. My body feels detached, and my mouth is dry.

Where am I?

The noise of a machine beeping has me blinking again. I see white. I damn sure know I’m not in heaven. I blink again as my mind races.

The cowbell dings from off on the side. We are in an abandoned parking garage.

I blow out a breath, and the cold Detroit air smokes out in front of me. My muscles are tight from the day and the temperature. I didn’t warm up properly. I know better. I’m not a rookie, and this is a rookie mistake. The key to mixed martial arts or any street fight is stamina. Don’t let your muscles or lungs give out before the final bell.

I hop from foot to foot in hopes to get my blood flowing. The graffiti on the cement walls seems to dance from the fires lit up inside barrel drums around the space. The place would normally reek of garbage, waste from the homeless fuckers, and rats. Luckily, it’s all frozen, so I am thankful for the reprieve from the stench.