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TRIGGER WARNING

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Lila

She'd been awake since the small hours of the morning. Her ribs hurt and the pain was spreading so that her whole body felt achy. It hurt to breathe. It was useful, though. Because she learned something: The window, the glass obscured with a thick, frosting to the glass, had gone from black to full sunlight like someone turned on a switch. Which meant, that's exactly what they'd done.

What she'd taken as sunlight coming through the windows was apparently just one of those lights that appeared like sunlight.

So she wasn't on the edge of a building at all. She was boxed in. She wasn't sure how it would help to know that, but she made the mental note, just in case. It was one of the things Dane had told her: Notice everything. Remember everything. Even the smallest details might be important.

She didn't know what time it was, only that she was convinced it was the same time every day—some kind of sick routine—that brought Dane's father to the door. He knocked this time, as if he knew she was awake and he was warning her.

She still didn't have any clothes. She'd remained wrapped in the blankets all day yesterday. No one had touched her. But she hadn't realized how vulnerable it felt, to know you were unclothed in front of people—to know that they knew.

It was a tactic, she knew. Turned out, it still worked.

Doug pulled that chair in behind him again and she wondered why he always removed it when he just seemed to bring it back every time he came in. Did it matter if she had a plastic chair in here?

But he was holding other things this time, too. She watched him carefully as he dropped another blanket, a pair of socks, and a second pillow onto the end of the bed before settling himself into the chair and looking at her, like he would wait for her to speak first.

She glanced at the things. "Why?" she asked gruffly.

"Because I want you to be comfortable."

"Why?"

"Because I have a surprise for you today."

An ice cube slid down Lila's spine and she cursed herself for beginning to tremble. "I don't like surprises," she lied.

Doug huffed. "Another thing you and my son have in common," he said slyly, winking at her when she looked at him. He knew about the birthday party. She ignored it.

"What is it you want from me, Doug?" she said.

"Call me Dad."

"No."

He smirked. "I can see what my son likes about you. I adore strong women." Lila just stared. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and held her gaze.

"Are you just going to keep me here?" she said, wishing her voice didn't sound quite so desperate. "Are you going to kill me? Or make someone else do it? Either way, let's get it over with. I'm never going to help you."

Doug smiled a chilling smile and sat back in the chair. "The beautiful thing about strong women," he said carefully, "is that they are harder to break than men. Did you know that? Especially—as it turns out—when they're motivated by something good. A cause. Defense of the innocent. Love." He said the last one with heavy emphasis. Lila didn't react. "I adore breaking strong women." Then, for the first time since she'd been there, he stood and started towards her.

As quickly as she was able, Lila was off the bed and trying to get space, but he blocked her passage toward the door, which she supposed was locked anyway.

Remembering Dane's advice—don't fight, let yourself be broken, be weak—she didn't work to dart around him, or keep him away. So he walked right up into her space, his height identical to Dane's, so his chest pressed her against the wall behind her, and he braced a hand against the wall in exactly the same way Dane did—that she loved—and he leaned into her ear.

"No one knows where you are, Lila. No one knows what happens in this room. So… if you're frustrated… if you want to feel something good… it can be arranged," he let his nose drag along her jaw as he straightened, his hair falling over his eyes in a way that confused her heart, but sickened her stomach. Then he kissed her. Or tried to.

Lila jerked her face away and slapped him, clawing at his face, leaving a scrape on his cheekbone that was satisfying.

He didn't react for a moment. Then he touched his cheek and looked at his finger. And without making a sound, or changing his expression, he backhanded her so hard her head rebounded off the wall behind her and she slammed to the floor.

Her knees barked, and her ribs screamed. She had to scramble to keep the blanket around her nakedness. She was shaking when he knelt next to her, but he didn't touch her.

"I find physical punishment very… unsophisticated. But there's no doubt it's effective," he said, touching his cheek again and looking at his fingers with disapproval. Then he looked at her, his eyes hard as steel, all resemblance to Dane gone in the sheer chill in him when he looked at her.

Head ringing, Lila suddenly wanted to cry. Not because of the pain, or even the fear. Just because she wanted Dane so badly—ached to be in his arms, to have him stand between her and this madman. But she was glad he wasn't there. Because she knew how that would end, and that would be even more unbearable than… this.

"Dane needs to take a stronger hand with you so you learn your boundaries," he said, like he was talking about training a dog.

Lip bruised and split, and face beginning to swell, Lila spat, "You're not half the man your son is."

But Doug just laughed like he found her words genuinely amusing. There were tears in his eyes by the time he got to his feet and picked up the chair to leave. "We'll see about that, Lila. We'll see."