Finding Faye (K&S Securities 1)

There is a door connecting us to another room and I gingerly turn the knob, expecting it to be locked. I’m thrilled when knob turns and the door swings open into a small, dirty bathroom. Exposed plumbing shows in the ripped up walls, but all the fixtures are still in place. Twisting the knob with a sharp squeal, I can’t stop the tiny spark of happiness I feel when the faucet sputters, spewing out a thin stream of sour smelling yellow water that slowly runs clear after a couple of minutes.

Finally something positive.

After taking care of the necessities we use cold water to wash up the best we can in the small sink. There isn’t a shower. No soap or towels either. We use our hands to fill our empty bellies with water before returning to the mattress on the floor to sit in the sunshine and wait for whatever happens next.

The sun is high in the sky and the small room is stuffy. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s late enough that when I last glanced at the street below I could see that it was bustling with people. The grating sound of a key in the lock sends me scrambling to my feet. I help Ana up as a bearded man walks in with a gun in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. He is tall and dark, his brow furrowed with what looks like anger or some other unpleasant emotion.

“Dad!” Ana cries out, running to him and throwing her arms around his waist.

He pushes her away from him and narrows his eyes at her, his thin lips twisting into a sneer. I see the moment she realizes he isn’t there to help us. Her face falls, and my blossoming hope of being rescued dies a swift, agonizing death. Ana’s cheeks pale and she sways a little on her on her feet, rocked by the revelation that he own father isn’t here to save her.

“Dad?” she whispers, confusion bleeding out of the single syllable.

I cross the room and slip my arm around her waist, helping her to sit down on the floor by the window.

Once she is settled, crying into her hands hopelessly, I turn back to her sorry excuse of a father.

“You’re not here to help us,” I state with as little emotion as I can muster. I won’t let him see how shaken I am. When Ana ran to him my heart had leapt with the belief that we were about to be saved. I forgot that this is the man who sold her into marriage to pay off a gambling debt. Of course, he isn't here to help us. The kind of man he is only does what will benefit himself. It’s unmistakable in the way he regards her first, then me, with open disdain.

“I'm here to deliver some food. Dominic doesn't want this one,” he says as he points at Ana, “to go hungry. Her delicate condition and all.” His laugh is humorless as he drops the bag to the floor and walks out the door without another glance at his daughter.

When the lock clicks I scuttle over, grabbing the bag before returning to sit beside my friend. I’m afraid someone might come back and take it away from us.

Ana is still crying, deep silent sobs. I pull her against me until she has no more tears left. Together we sit in the uncomfortably still room, unable to speak, both lost in our own thoughts.

I can’t even imagine what she must be feeling. I was my dad’s little princess. I never knew a day of hardship before his death. The idea of a father being able to betray his daughter so deeply shocks me. I know that my dad would have laid down his life for mine if he had to.

Eventually Ana’s tears calm down and she motions to the bag beside me. “We should see what he brought.”

We dump the bag on the floor between us. Bread, peanut butter, jelly and two big bottles of water. Could be worse, I suppose. In the bottom of the bag is a plastic spoon. Of course they wouldn’t give us anything useful.

A butter knife, so we could at least pretend that we could use it to try and break out of here, would have been nice. Not that we would have gotten very far with it.

I won’t complain about the food, though. I know I’m starving, and Ana needs to eat, so I set about making a couple sandwiches. Ana picks up the jelly jar, staring at the label while I spread the chunky peanut butter on the spongy white bread.

“He brought my favorite,” she whispers in a broken voice, holding the jar of raspberry preserves out to me. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she isn’t crying anymore.

After eating our sticky sandwiches we lay back down beside each other for the remainder of the afternoon, discussing escape options. There aren’t many. We don’t stand a chance of being able to get out the door past even a single guard, let alone the two out there, if the muffled voices we can hear over the low drone of a television are any indication.

Everyone we have seen so far has been armed, and I am not capable of taking on an armed man. I’m a runner, not a scrapper. There is no way I can fight my way out and I won’t let Ana do anything that would put the baby at risk, so for now it’s nothing but talk.

The afternoon drags on without any other visitors. It must be dinner time. The smell of Chinese take-out wafts under the door, making my stomach growl.

The sun is setting and I’m feeling antsy. There has to be a way out of here. This is an old building that is clearly being renovated. On a whim wander back over to the tall narrow windows and test the latch. It’s stiff with disuse, but it unlocks and with just a small push it opens.

It opens!

Apparently they haven’t gotten around to replacing the windows yet. It will be a tight squeeze, but I think I should be able to fit through the meager opening. For once my small size will be to my advantage.

There is a slight ledge below the windows that spans the length of the building. Leaning my head out I can see that there is a ladder just a couple of windows down from this one that looks like it goes up to the rooftop. I am terrified of heights, but doing this is better than taking our chances with the men holding us captive. There is no safe way to get past them, but I should be able to get up to the roof and then find a way to get down to the street below. If I can do that, I know that I can get to Xavier’s building and get help.

It’s getting too dark to attempt it now, but at first light I’m going out on that ledge even if it kills me. I hope it doesn’t come to that. I just got Travis back in my life and I’m not ready to let him go.

Ana is watching me closely when I shut the window and turn back toward her.

“I’m going out the window at sunrise,” I whisper. Her eyes widen with surprise and she nods her agreement.

“Better try to get some rest then,” she whispers back, a small spark of hope returning to her eyes. No one is coming. They don’t know where we are. I’m going to have to go to them. It’s up to me now and we both know it.