When I’m finished, I wash my hands and twist a little to inspect the dressing in the mirror. I peel it back and see the remnants of a white ointment. Did he do that? It hurts less than it did, so I gently press it back on and look at my face, my hair. I look gaunt, shadows under my eyes, my cheeks hollowed out. My stomach growls as if reminding me why that is.
I don’t need a reminder. I’m hungry. Always hungry. I’ve been starving for years.
On a stool across the room is a pile of folded clothes with tags still on them. I guess they’re for me. Jeans, a sweater. Underthings. A pair of boots. All new.
I should shower before I put them on, but I just splash water on my face in the sink and return to the bedroom. Because I’d seen something at the window.
I go to it and look out, watch the train that runs along the elevated track not too far away and I realize I don’t hear it. He must have the place soundproofed. A fence circles the parking lot around the building but it’s old and not maintained. Not as secure as I’m used to.
And when I press my forehead to the window, I see the ladder I’d just glimpsed against the wall of the building. I can’t tell if it’s broken. If it reaches all the way down to the parking lot. I glance at the closed bedroom door then back to the window. I unlock it. It’s easy. Too easy. But the window itself is jammed and harder to open. It takes a few minutes but soon enough there’s a creak and I push it up. It only goes half-way then gets stuck again but that’s all I need.
Bending I stick my head out into the cold evening and see the remnants of the fire escape. The ladder is intact, and it goes almost to the parking lot. That last part I’d have to jump but it looks like it’s only a few feet. I can do that.
I hurry back to the bathroom and switch on the shower, leaving the bathroom door open as I pull off the hoodie. That’s when I notice the band aid stuck to the crease of my forearm. I take a minute to look at it, peel it back to see the miniscule puncture. Another injection.
He doesn’t want to drug me. Yeah, right.
I yank the band-aid away and let it drop to the floor. Quickly, I put on the folded clothes, fresh underthings, a warm, soft sweater. No coat, though. I’ll need a coat.
After slipping my feet into the boots I put his hoodie back on over top of my clothes, catching that faint scent of him. The feeling it gives me goes against what I’m thinking, against the warning in my head that this is all a lie. A trick.
I shove the feeling away and leave the shower running when I return to the bedroom, pausing when I see the wallet again, knowing there’s eight-hundred-dollars inside. I slip one of the bills out. I may need it when I get out of this room. I don’t know how far I am from the hotel. The Hudson, I remember the name. Like the river.
I head to the window and pause when I hear men’s voices inside speaking quietly. I wonder if they’re all still here, but I can’t think about that right now. Fear paralyzes. I know that well.
I can’t be afraid.
So, before I get to that point, I bend down and climb out of the window. The landing is not quite stable, the metal of the ladder rusty and cold. I hold on tight as I toe the first rung, just barely managing to touch it. My heart races and my breath mists in the morning air. The hoody catches on something, tearing, and I feel a sting as I swing the other leg out, but I don’t care. I’m out. And I climb as fast as I can manage, which isn’t very fast because it’s so cold my fingers are freezing. I’m also scared of falling. But soon I’m at the end of it and I look five or six feet down to the ground. It seems higher now that I’m here.
But I have no choice.
So, I turn carefully and when my back is to the wall, I take a deep breath and jump.
5
Dante
“This wasn’t what we fucking agreed!” Cristiano bellows.
I bite into a piece of crispy bacon, enjoying the saltiness, the texture. I eat the rest of the strip. “Any word on that fuck’s location?”
“Dante,” my brother starts. I can almost hear him forcing himself to breathe, to calm down. “You were going in to get her. To bring her home safely. That was the plan.”