Five

by Blythe, Jane

  Sensing that Eliza would be more receptive to Xavier, Jack stood and gestured for his partner to come and take his place. “This is my partner, Xavier,” he said as Xavier sat beside the bed, and Eliza immediately relaxed.

  “Did Malachi hurt you?” Xavier asked softly.

  Eliza shook her head, inching a little closer to Xavier.

  “Are you sure? If he hurt you, we can help you, Eliza.”

  “Ariyel,” she corrected quietly. “My name is Ariyel.”

  “Maegan says your real name is Eliza. That Ariyel is just the name that Malachi gave you when he kidnapped you,” Xavier pressed on.

  “My sister’s name is Alice,” she protested.

  “Do you have any other sisters?” Xavier let the kidnapping go for the moment since Eliza obviously wasn't ready to discuss that yet.

  She nodded.

  “What are their names?” Jack asked. If Eliza backed up Maegan about the little girls, then it would be proof that Malachi had lied about that. It would also bolster Maegan’s claims that they were all kidnap victims, even if Eliza wouldn’t admit it. Maegan had told them that Malachi had brainwashed Eliza, and from the young woman’s haunted eyes, Jack believed it.

  “Angela, Abigail, and Arianna.”

  Jack didn’t want to confront her on Arianna's true parentage yet. She was clearly extremely emotionally vulnerable. Instead, he asked, “Do you know where you are?”

  Her eyes skimmed the room. “The hospital?”

  “Do you know how you got here?” Xavier asked.

  She gave a slow shake of her head.

  “You suffered a drug overdose,” Xavier informed her.

  Disbelief had her eyes widening, making them seem even larger in her thin face.

  “Maegan thought you might have done it on purpose.”

  “Why?” Eliza kept her gaze fixed on Xavier, which seemed to help her to remain calm.

  “To get help for all of you.”

  “But we don’t need help,” she protested.

  “Maegan thinks you do,” Jack pushed. He didn’t want to push too hard, but if they could get Eliza to fill in the gaps, then they could arrest Malachi and send these girls home.

  “I already told you my sister’s name is Alice. And I didn’t try to kill myself. No one hurt us. Our father didn’t do anything to us.” Eliza was becoming agitated.

  “So, no one kidnapped you?” Xavier asked, but Jack could hear in his voice that he now believed Maegan. Eliza’s terror was written all over her face and could be heard in her voice.

  “No.”

  “And your name is Ariyel, not Eliza?”

  “Right.”

  “And Maegan’s name is really Alice?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then do you know why Maegan would lie to us? Why she would tell us that Malachi hurt her, that he hurt you, that both of you and your little sisters need help?”

  “I … I … I don’t … I'm not …” Eliza stammered. Tears brimmed in her eyes now and her distress was growing. They probably weren’t going to get much more time with her before a doctor came in and requested they leave her alone.

  Deciding it was time to push, he asked, “Eliza, are you Arianna's mother?” Jack asked.

  Pure panic flushed across her face, and she began to pull at the wires and tubes still attached to her body. Xavier grabbed hold of her arms, stilling them, and keeping her in the bed before she could fling herself out.

  “Did Malachi force himself on you, Eliza?” Jack pressed, not wanting to upset the girl, but they needed to know.

  Still caught in her desperate attempt to escape, Eliza didn’t respond. When it seemed to dawn on her that she wasn't going anywhere, she burst into hysterical sobs. Getting any answers out of her was going to be even harder than extracting answers from Maegan.

  Whatever Malachi had done to Eliza’s head wasn't going to be undone overnight.

  THREE YEARS AGO

  4:26 P.M.

  Eliza was getting desperate.

  She didn’t know what else to try.

  Not that that meant she was going to give up.

  She would never stop trying to escape from Malachi. No matter how long he kept her here. And she knew that would be forever. Malachi had told her that he’d never let her go, that he’d rather see her dead first, and she believed him.

  That knowledge only further fueled her desire to find a way to escape.

  Over the last two years she’d tried numerous things.

  One day she’d set a fire in one of the upstairs bedrooms hoping that the fire would bring firefighters who would find them and rescue them. Making sure the children were safely downstairs, right by the front door, she had gone to the room farthest away and lit the match. However, as soon as the fire took hold of the curtains, a sprinkler system appeared, and the water quickly extinguished the flames. When Malachi had arrived home, he’d been so furious he’d hit her across the face so hard she’d seen stars.

  Another time she had tried to dig a hole under one of the fences on the property. It hadn’t been easy. They weren’t allowed outside much, and when they were, Malachi usually kept a pretty close eye on them. But she had worked away at it, bit by bit, for several weeks. She had intended to make the hole big enough for Maegan to fit through, so she could take Hayley and Bethany with her and get them someplace safe. Eliza had intended to remain behind. Malachi had found the hole before it was big enough to fit the baby.

  She’d tried cutting the electricity, but when the electrician came, Malachi locked her and the others in the basement.

  She’d tried flooding the house, but when he’d had workers come to fix it, he’d locked them in the attic.

  Then, of course, there was the disastrous time she’d thrown herself out the window in the hope that Malachi would take her to the hospital. That had been a year ago, and it had taken months for her to recover. The arm and leg that had been broken in the fall still ached at the end of a long day.

  After each failed attempt came the punishment.

  It got worse each time as Malachi became more and more frustrated that she wouldn’t accept her fate.

  He hadn’t punished her for the flooding scam yet, but she knew it was coming and she knew it would be bad. How bad, she didn’t know, but she was expecting a lot worse than all the other times.

  Not that his punishments would stop her.

  Eliza didn’t know what to try next, but something would occur to her. One of these days she’d find something that worked.

  She was aware of his presence behind her before he spoke. She always knew when he was coming.

  “Let’s go,” Malachi grabbed her arm and began to drag her toward the basement stairs.

  Eliza knew better than to resist and allowed him to take her to the basement. It was time to face the consequences for her last attempt at freedom.

  “I've had enough of dealing with you and your stupid games,” Malachi’s voice growled in her ear. The feel of his warm breath on her skin made her shiver. “I'm not putting up with it anymore. You are never leaving this house. If you can’t accept that, then I’ll make you accept it.”

  “I’ll never stop trying to get away from you,” Eliza told him defiantly. She wasn't afraid of Malachi anymore. Her fear had died a long time ago. He’d hurt her too many times, and now the only focus in her life was trying to save herself and her little sisters.

  “Oh, I think you will,” Malachi singsonged.

  Something in his voice had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Whatever he had planned was going to be worse than bad.

  Releasing her, he went to a corner of the basement and opened a door. “You, in here,” he gestured to her and reluctantly Eliza crossed to him. Malachi stood outside a small room that had been painted black. The room had no windows and only the one door. “You will not come out until you're ready to obey every word I say.”

  “I’ll never obey you,” Eliza snapped.

  “You will. You won't come out o
f this room until you learn to be obedient. You won't have water or food or light until you learn to obey. Nor will you have clothing.”

  She gaped at him, in shock. Malachi couldn’t really be meaning to lock her inside a room and leave her there—naked and in the dark—until she agreed to do whatever he said. It would never work. There was nothing he could do that would make her obey him.

  She was going to defy him. She refused to do it, but he approached her with a pair of scissors. “I said clothes off!” he roared, snipping the scissors at her. Eliza flung her arms up in self-defense as he rushed her. But Malachi managed to cut a hole in the sleeve of her sweater, and the sharp blades sliced into the flesh of her arm.

  “Okay, okay,” she surrendered. Her arm burned from the cut, and she could feel blood dripping down it. Despite the fact that Malachi had seen her naked numerous times, her cheeks flamed red with embarrassment as she climbed out of her clothes.

  “Now, in!” he screamed, shoving her violently inside the room.

  She stumbled and fell to her knees, then scrambled immediately to her feet but before she could get to the door, it slammed closed with a horrifying air of finality. With the door shut, the room was completely dark. Not an ounce of light slid through the cracks around the doorframe. She couldn’t even see her hand when she held it right in front of her face. It was quiet, too. Scarily quiet. So quiet that the quiet seemed to take on a life of its own and produce its own sound.

  Even though she knew it was pointless, Eliza spent the next few hours feeling around every inch of the room, hoping to locate a weakness.

  She found none.

  Eventually, she was forced to give up.

  Curling up in a corner of the small, dark room, Eliza buried her head in her hands and cried.

  This was so unfair.

  All she wanted was to go home to her family, but instead, she ended up trapped in this horrible room.

  Eliza didn’t know how long she lived in the cold, dark space. Without any clues, she had no way to keep track of the time. It could have been hours, days, weeks, months. Logically, she knew it couldn’t have been all that long because her body couldn’t survive without water for more than a couple of days, but it felt like she’d been here forever.

  At first, she talked aloud to herself, reciting stories and poems, and giving herself pep talks.

  Then she lost the will to speak out loud, and she curled up in a ball on the ground and retreated inside herself, making up stories of how she would be saved.

  Then she lost the will to do even that. She just laid there. Doing nothing. Not even thinking. No longer hungry or thirsty or cold. The darkness of the room was so all encompassing that it reached its tentacles inside her, filling her with darkness.

  And then one day, the door opened.

  The light that flooded the room blinded her. Eliza squeezed her eyes shut. The pain was unbearable.

  Someone knelt beside her, but her eyes still weren’t cooperating, and all she could do was squint through them and make out a big blurry shape.

  “Are you ready yet?”

  The darkness may have squashed her, but it hadn’t broken her yet. Wearily, she lifted her head from the floor and shook it.

  “Maybe you need a few more days.” Malachi took hold of her neck, tilted her head back and poured some water into her mouth. He poured so quickly that she choked. Desperately, she swallowed as much of it as she could. Her body needed it. She was so parched, already badly dehydrated.

  Then Malachi was gone. The door closed and locked behind him. The darkness was back.

  The water had invigorated her a little, and for a while, Eliza felt her spirit returning.

  But this time it didn’t take as long for the darkness to claim her.

  And this time, it claimed her completely.

  Crushed her.

  Her resolve, her strength, her spirit, all drained out of her until they became as weak as her body.

  More time passed. All she did was lay on the floor in a huddle. Most of the time she wasn't sure if she was awake or asleep.

  Cold.

  Hungry.

  Thirsty.

  Dark.

  Cold.

  Hungry.

  Thirsty.

  Dark.

  That was all her life had become.

  Malachi returned.

  And this time when he asked her if she was ready to give in, she nodded. She was too weak. Her body needed food and water. And she was cold. Her naked body shivered almost constantly. Most importantly, she wanted out of the dark.

  “On your knees,” he commanded.

  Wobbly and worriedly light-headed, with her eyes still clenched shut against the light, Eliza only just managed to comply.

  “You want water and food, you ask for it.”

  “Please.” Her voice nothing but a faint croak.

  “Ask properly,” Malachi reprimanded. “Say, ‘please, sir, may I have some water?’”

  “Please, sir, may I have some water?” Eliza parroted back.

  “Very good,” Malachi praised. “Here you go.” She heard him setting some things down beside her.

  Eliza had thought that once she gave Malachi what he wanted, he would let her out of this hell. But he didn’t. Once he’d set down what he’d brought for her, he left after closing the door once more and plunging her into blackness.

  Feeling around, Eliza found that he’d left her a bottle of water, some soup, and a blanket. She ate greedily, her body crying out for sustenance, but she was careful with the water. She didn’t know when Malachi would return. The blanket felt wonderful when she wrapped it around her shoulders, and she snuggled down into it and slept the best sleep she’d had since she’d been locked up here.

  Malachi’s visits became more regular.

  She played by the rules. Asked as he wanted her to. And she earned clothes, more food, and plenty of water.

  It got easier each time to do what Malachi wanted.

  The darkness had invaded her mind, made it sluggish and tired, compliant. When he visited her now, he talked to her about his family. About Ariyel. The more Malachi talked about Ariyel, the more she came to believe that she really was her.

  She understood.

  Malachi was in charge of her. Without him, she had nothing. He had what he wanted—her obedience.

  NOVEMBER 4th

  12:00 A.M.

  12:00 A.M.

  Five-year-old Abigail woke up with a start.

  Where was she?

  She wasn't home in her own bed.

  Not that she slept in her own bed very often. Her room was scary. It was too quiet and big. And she didn’t like the pictures on her walls.

  It wasn't just her room that scared her; the whole house was scary. Because of him. He was scary. Scary and mean.

  Most nights she crept into Ariyel’s room to sleep in her bed. But right now, she wasn't in Ariyel’s bed, either.

  She was lying on a hard floor.

  She opened her mouth to scream for her sister when a hand rested on her shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Abby,” Angela’s voice soothed. “We’re at the hospital, remember? Ariyel got sick and we came here, then Alice told us to hide.”

  Abby remembered. She remembered how still Ariyel had been in the car. She remembered how serious Alice had been when she’d told them they needed to stay quiet and hidden no matter what. She remembered singing songs and telling stories with Angela while they waited for Alice to come back and get them.

  But she didn’t want to wait anymore.

  She wanted Ariyel. Now.

  Ariyel always made her feel safe.

  Abby didn’t have a mommy, but Ariyel was like her mommy.

  Well, she had a mommy; she just didn’t remember her. Ariyel had told her that Malachi wasn't really their daddy. He had taken them from their real families. Only Abby had been a baby then, so she didn’t remember it.

  And Abby wasn't even her real name. Her real name was Hayley. Angela�
��s real name was Bethany, Alice’s real name was Maegan, and Ariyel’s real name was Eliza. But they weren’t supposed to use their real names because it made Malachi angry.

  None of them wanted to make Malachi angry.

  He got even scarier when he was angry.

  He hurt Ariyel all the time. He hurt Alice, too. And even at five, Abby knew that one day he’d hurt her, Angela, and Arianna, as well.

  That’s why they always did whatever they had to so Malachi didn’t lose his temper.

  The older girls wanted to go back to their homes. Their real homes. But Abby didn’t remember her real home. She didn’t remember her mommy and daddy. She didn’t want to live with Malachi, but she didn’t want to leave Ariyel.

  She loved Ariyel.

  And if leaving Malachi meant leaving Ariyel, then she didn’t want to do it.

  But that’s why they were here.

  That’s why Alice had made them hide. She was going to tell someone that Malachi had taken them, that he wasn't their father. Then they were all going to go home.

  Abby was scared.

  What if her real home was just as scary as Malachi’s?

  What if her real mommy and daddy were as scary as Malachi?

  What if she never got to see Ariyel or the rest of her sisters ever again?

  “Abby? What’s wrong?” Angela set the baby down and pulled Abby into her lap.

  “I want Ariyel,” she whimpered, crying. She was five years old; ‘too big to cry,’ Malachi always said. But she cried a lot. She knew it made Malachi mad, but she couldn’t help it.

  “I know you do. I do, too, but we have to do what Alice said so we can go home,” Angela reminded her.

  “I don’t want to go home,” she pouted.

  “Sure, you do. Your home will be wonderful, not at all like our house. I know you're scared, because you don’t remember. I'm a little scared, too,” Angela admitted. “I was only four when Malachi took me. I hardly remember my family, but what I do remember is really wonderful.”

  “But Ariyel won't be there.”

  “No, she won't, but I'm sure you’ll be able to visit her whenever you want. You’ll be able to visit all of us. And when you go home, you’ll be able to go to school and make friends, and your mommy will do all the things for you that Ariyel does. And your daddy will tickle you and give you piggyback rides and read you stories, and do all the things that daddies are supposed to do. And you know how you love ballerinas? Well, maybe you’ll be able to take dance classes and learn how to dance just like a ballerina.”