Jasmine wasn’t sure her other alternatives were any better, but she had a greater chance of getting free if he took her out of the cement room.
“Gruber?”
He didn’t respond. He carried a carving knife, which made her nauseous with fear—until he used it to begin sawing through the ropes attaching her to his sister’s lifeless form.
Closing her eyes, Jasmine turned her face away. He was in too much of a hurry to be careful with that blade. She was afraid he might get frustrated and simply hack off her arm.
“Come on,” he said. “Beverly’s gone. Beverly and Phil and Dustin. They’re all gone. Even the kids are gone. We gotta go before it’s too late.”
He was still talking to himself and struggling with the thick rope. “The Moreaus have left town?” she asked.
Straightening, he blinked at her as if he’d forgotten she was alive. “How do you know? Did you put Beverly up to this? Are you responsible?” he demanded.
The ropes were looser, but Jasmine’s hand wasn’t quite free. He loomed over her, his grip tight on the handle of that knife, which was large and jagged and threatening—as if the wild gleam in his eyes wasn’t threatening enough. She couldn’t help remembering the woman he’d slashed to death only a few days ago.
She’d experienced that as though it had happened to her, and the prospect of a repeat performance caused a tremor of fear she couldn’t control. She had to be careful. He was in a volatile state, unpredictable and dangerous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said as innocently as possible.
He muttered some complaint to himself, but he finished with the rope and set the knife on top of the TV.
Once her hand was free, she rubbed it, hoping to bring back some feeling, and considered trying to reach that weapon. Could she get hold of it in time? Did she have the strength to wield it against him? The longer she remained in Gruber’s control, the less chance she had of survival. But one attempt might be all she had.
She had to choose her moment wisely.
Pulling a key from his pocket, he bent over her ankle. But when he saw the torn flesh and the dried blood, such hatred and contempt came over his face that Jasmine couldn’t breathe. “Look at this,” he ground out. “You’re as foolish and stubborn as I thought. Much more like Adele than your sister.”
Your sister… Gooseflesh rose on Jasmine’s arms. What must Kimberly and Adele have suffered at this man’s hands? Had they been kept in a cement cell like this one? If so, for how long? And what’d happened to Kimberly in the end?
The sight of Valerie didn’t leave Jasmine much hope, but she’d waited sixteen years for the opportunity to ask. And she knew she needed to keep him occupied.
“Where is Kimberly? Can you tell me that?”
“I would’ve told you if not for this.” He waved at the damage to her ankle, the key still in his hand. “Resistance brings punishment. You’ll have to learn. You and Beverly will both have to learn. When I find her she’s dead. Dead, dead, dead. She needs to be punished.” His eyes went to the knife. “You need to be punished.”
“I’m new to this, remember?” she said, trying to forestall him. It’d be easier for him to travel without her, and she knew it. The knife was right there, and she was still chained by her foot. It’d take only one well-aimed thrust. “I haven’t been notified of the rules yet. How can you get mad at me for doing something you don’t like if you didn’t tell me not to do it?”
His cell phone rang, but he ignored it. “My service sucks down in this hole,”he said, distracted from whatever he’d been considering a moment before. “What does he expect? That I should be at his beck and call forever?” he asked her. “He knows to run. He knows to leave. I warned him. That’s all he can ask of me.”
“That’s all anyone can ask,” she agreed, hoping to convince him that she was on his side. She had to develop a rapport with Gruber, get him to relax and lower his guard. No matter what, she couldn’t show the fear that charged every cell in her body. Fear would relegate her to a victim’s position, would provoke the same kind of behavior he’d shown to other victims. Sexual sadists didn’t necessarily like the act of inflicting pain—it was the suffering that satisfied them. And fear was part of that suffering. She had to convince him she was different, do something to change the natural course of this encounter.
“Women can’t be trusted,” he said.
“Some women can’t be trusted.” She shrugged. “But some men can’t be trusted, either.”
He tilted his head as if weighing her response.
“What?” she said. “You disagree?”
Picking up the knife, he laid it against her throat. Instinctively, she wanted to grab his arm or try to protect herself. But she knew that would be the worst thing she could do. She’d experienced it with that woman he’d attacked after coming through the window. Her feeble attempts to preserve her own life had enraged him more than anything.
Forcing herself to let the tension drain out of her body, Jasmine remained as pliable and unconcerned as possible as she gazed up at him.
“I could kill you right here. I could cut your throat and watch you bleed to death right in front of me!” he shouted when he didn’t get the reaction he’d expected.
The muscles in her arms twitched. But she didn’t move. If she gave in to what came most naturally, she’d be signing her own death warrant. “We all gotta go someday, don’t we?” She met his eyes, refusing to flinch or glance away.
Confusion darkened his face. “You don’t care?”
Submission. Total submission. “Of course I care. But what’s the point of fighting?” Especially when it was his ability to subdue her that fed his desire to kill her in the first place.
He pulled the knife away and waved it toward the moldering Valerie. “I did that. I killed her. My own sister.”
Despite her best efforts to control it, Jasmine’s body was beginning to tremble.
She prayed he wouldn’t notice. “She must’ve deserved it. But you have no reason to kill me. Anyway, you’re in such a hurry you wouldn’t even have time to enjoy it.”
Obviously surprised by her reaction, he backed up, lowered the hand with the knife and ultimately nodded. “That’s right. We have to go.”
Jasmine wasn’t sure she could force her legs to carry her. But once he finally removed that cuff, she was eager to get out of the cement room and leave the smell and constant reminder of Valerie behind her. When he hauled her up by the shirtfront, she somehow kept her feet beneath her and walked. But she was constantly aware of the knife he still held and the fact that he was within striking distance should she try to make a break for it.