“Don’t you want out of this thing?”
“Did TJ tell you to let me out?” Now, I know I sound like a crazy person.
“He told me to bring you something to eat.”
“But he didn’t say let me out?” She shakes her head. “I’m not getting out until he says I can.”
“Even if I can help you escape?”
“He’d still find me,” I mutter. “Running now will only make things worse later.”
“Do you want to escape him?” She flips her long black hair over her shoulder as she waits for me to respond.
She’ll be waiting a long-ass time because I don’t really have an answer for her. As a matter of fact, I have done my best not to think about the what-ifs for years, and TJ is one of those things I’ve shoved in that box. Wanting him and needing him temporarily is very different from thinking I’ll have something with him long-term.
“Does he do this often?” I ask instead of answering her question.
Xena bites her plump lip. Amusement shines in her eyes, letting me know that she’s well aware that I avoided the question.
“I’ve been here for years, and I can’t think of a single time he’s caged a woman down here.” She looks around the empty room as a shudder runs through her. “But, a lot of things happen down here that us women don’t hear about.”
“Where am I?”
“In the basement.” Pinching my lips together, I glare at her. “In the basement at the clubhouse.”
The tremble in my hands from earlier renews, but I shove them under my thighs, so she doesn’t see my fear.
“What’s wrong?” She crouches down in front of the cage so she can look me in the eyes. I must not have been quick enough.
“The last time I was here—”
She holds her hand up, interrupting me. “That guy wasn’t a member, and he’ll never bother anyone again. The guys here would never hurt someone like that.”
“What?” I ask when she scrunches her nose up.
“Things were bad up until a couple of months ago, but Lynch is the Prez now, and the women are safer.” She clears her throat as if she’s said too much and stands. “I didn’t know what you would like, and I’m not much of a cook, so I hope you like PB&J.”
“I can’t eat,” I tell her.
“You have to be hungry.” She lifts the tray from the chair and sits down before repositioning it in her lap. “I also brought a couple of bottles of water. I think you’ve only been down here like a day or so, but I imagine you’re thirsty.”
“I can’t drink either.” My throat seizes in rebellion.
“Sure you can. TJ told me to get this for you.”
She pushes the end of the bottled water through the grid of metal, and my mouth runs dry seeing the perspiration drip from the cold plastic.
“I can’t.” Using the tip of a single finger, I push the bottom of the bottle so she can’t tempt me any further.
“Are you like going on a hunger strike?”
“No.” I lean in closer like the room is bugged and I’m afraid someone is listening in. “There isn’t a bathroom down here. Not even a bucket.”
Her nose scrunches as she jerks her head back a few inches, the thought of using a bucket disgusting to her. If she thinks that’s bad, she would die with some of the stories I could tell. “A bucket? He’s not going to make you use a bucket.”
“If I drink that water, I’ll need one quicker than I already do.”
She pushes the bottle back through the hole. “I don’t think you’ll be down here that long. Drink some water at least.”
I fidget with anticipation. “Did he say he was going to let me go?”
I take the bottle of water when she offers it again, but her quick snort makes me take pause before I can twist the lid off.
“I don’t think he has any plans to let you go, sweetheart.”
“H-he’s going to kill me?” Why is that the first place my head goes even after he hurt himself and begged me to stop putting myself in harm’s way?
"TJ isn't one to see out women to kill. If you're down here and not up there," she points to a rope hanging from a rafter I hadn't noticed before, "there's a good chance he's planning on keeping you, not hurting you."
My throat works on a rough swallow at the sight of the menacing rope and the shadow it casts on the far wall.
“Do you fuck girls?”
“What?” My eyes snap from the noose to Xena.
“Do you fuck girls?”
“I-that’s-wh—”
“When I asked the question, I figured it was a simple answer, but from the way you’re acting, I’m beginning to think it’s a little more complicated than a yes or no.” Xena stands, placing the tray back in the chair and inches closer to the cage. “I can ask different questions.”