Chapter 1

Callie´s eyes blinked open to darkness. For a moment, she was disoriented and wondered what had woken her, but then she became aware of footsteps over her head.

She lay still and listened as someone puttered in the kitchen at the top of the stairs, but tensed when the footsteps paused, and she heard the slide and click of the first bolt being slid open. Then, came the second, and finally, the third bolt.

A moment of silence passed before the door swung open. Light immediately raced down the steps and across the basement’s concrete floor. By the time it reached Callie’s cage, it was weak and dull, but even that bit of light made her blink after the pitch black she and the other women were left in most of the day.

Callie could hear them stirring and felt the tension building behind her. Terror was suddenly a living, breathing thing in that dark, moist room. She tried not to let it claim her as well, and began counting backward from one hundred to distract herself. A clear head was necessary if she wanted to escape. Her brother, Landon, had taught her that trick, along with self-defense.

Fear led to panicky actions and reactions. It led to mistakes, and there was no room for mistakes if she wanted to get herself and the others out of this house of horrors.

Her attention was claimed when the bit of light from above was suddenly blocked by a large figure filling the doorway. It was Boogeyman with a tray in hand. That’s what Callie and the other girls called him.

The light danced around his body and shifted on the floor as he started down. The heavy thud of his boots on the wooden stairs was loud in the sudden hush. The women were now as still as deer caught in headlights.

Callie held her breath and waited as Boogeyman reached the bottom of the steps. He walked past her cage without a glance, heading for the back of the room and the cages there. He always started at the back, distributing a bottle of water, a bowl of oatmeal, and fruit to each captive until he reached the front. Everyone would get a meal except for the woman who had been chosen for that night’s ‘fun’.

Knowing that, Callie tried to make out who was getting food and who wasn’t, but her cage was located at the front of the room, and the virtual darkness the other women were in, made it hard to see anything. She thought Boogeyman had stopped at every cage but couldn’t be sure.

When Boogeyman stopped in front of her cage, she realized that he was now dangling the tray by one handle alongside his leg, empty.

She let her breath out on a slow, silent hiss. It was her turn for a ‘night out’ then.

Callie shivered from head to toe. The girls who had been out had told the rest how they had been gang-raped multiple times. The last girl, Jennifer, hadn’t said a word since then.

Callie remained still, as Boogeyman set the tray on the ground and retrieved his keys from his front pants pocket. The tray would remain there until he returned her to her cage. He’d use it to carry away all the bowls he’d just handed out.

Well, he would if he was to return, but Callie didn’t intend to allow that.

The door of her cage swung open, but she waited for Boogeyman’s terse, “Come,” before shifting to her hands and knees to crawl out. Her home for the last seven days was four feet high, four feet wide, and the same deep. There wasn’t room to stand, or even lie inside it.

For seven days, she’d either lain curled in a ball on the floor, or sat with her knees tucked to her chest. She’d spent all her time in this cage, eating and even relieving herself there in the bedpan provided. The bedpans were removed once a day when Boogeyman collected their bowls after feeding and returned after emptying.

“Up,” came the abrupt order, as Callie paused on her hands and knees on the cold, concrete floor. She wasn’t surprised when the order was accompanied by Boogeyman grasping her arm and ragging her upward. After so long without being able to straighten her legs, she needed help and barely restrained a groan of pain as she came upright. Callie was even grateful for his supporting hand on her arm as he walked her silently up the stairs.

Much to her relief, the worst of the pain eased by the time she reached the top step, but she continued to lean into his hold, even deliberately stumbling on the last step to give the impression that she wasn’t completely steady on her feet.

He’d expect that. Thanks to the drugs they put in the oatmeal she was expected to be slow and a little uncoordinated.

Only that she wasn’t.

Callie had stopped eating the oatmeal three days ago. She was hungry and weak, but clearheaded. Her only worry was that she would be weaker than usual after three days of eating only one fruit. But there was nothing she could do about that and would just have to count on her skills, her strength, and the element of surprise to see her through what was coming. She had no intention of dying in her own filth in that damned, stinking cage in the basement or being sold as a prostitute to some foreign country.