Page 90 of Pay the Piper

“I know. You can get me back later. For now, rest, Misha. Dream of her. She’ll be back before you know it.”

As if I’m unable to defy her, even in my dreams, I do as she says and think of nothing but Abby. I know I’m asleep and that this isn’t real, but I’m so warm and comfortable that any concern feels miles away.

What was I worried about, again? Look how lovely life is. The pumpkin patch is bustling with families, parents enjoying crisp spiked cider and kids clamoring to find the best pumpkin. It’s cooler today, and the leaves have finally turned fully, a spectacle of burgundy, amber, and marigold as far as the eye can see.

My own pumpkin is waddling back to me from the restroom, her third visit in the thirty minutes we’ve been here. Abby’s past her due date, but she insisted on coming to enjoy “one last outing just the two of us.” That’s also what she said last week when we went to an apple orchard, and the week before, when we went to a drive-in movie marathon, and she peed herself while laughing at the “scary” movies.

“Hi. Ready to find a pumpkin cream donut for me and then take me home?”

The donut stall was within eyesight of the bathroom, and she almost swoons as I brandish my haul, clearly bursting with treats. I hadn’t expected her to make it an hour, and once she has a couple donuts and settles in for the ride home, I doubt we’ll go far before she’s asleep.

“You’re my hero,” she sighs, leaning heavily into my side as we walk back to the car.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you, lesnaya? Even with all three of you, you’re still not a workout for me. Maybe we try for three next time—”

“Misha Mavrin, I swear to god, if you ever insinuate again that I’ll carry three babies at once, I’ll…oh. Oh, I might have to go back to the bathroom…”

As she trails off, glancing down to see fluid wetting the dirt path to the parking lot, her eyes widen before snapping to mine. She knows, just like I do, that the bathroom isn’t what she needs right now.

I awake with a start, calm clarity rolling over me in a way that neither Mila’s tea nor her reassurances could. The clock on the nightstand blinks 5:00 a.m. Later than I’d usually sleep without Abby in my arms, but still earlier than Thatcher and Mila, who are curled up, the former the small spoon in a tight embrace. Moving to the bathroom to shower and ready myself for the day, I realize as I examine myself in the mirror that she was right.

What I needed was a good night’s sleep. I’m fresh, sharp, and ready to kill. The vivid dreams of the future I will have with my girl were the cherry on top, and a perfect reminder of what I’m fighting for. My lesnaya. My Abby. My everything.

Chapter 36

“Hey, Sandy. Are you awake?”

“Yeah. How are you holding up? They’ve been picking on you. It can’t be easy.”

She’s not wrong, but it’s nothing compared to what Conor’s put me through in the past. I’ll take lying in this cage in the dark over anything else he could do to me. Plus, before when I had to retreat into myself to survive, all my dreams and fantasies were just that…fantasy. Now I know better. My wildest dreams are real, and I just have to make it long enough for Misha to come for me.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. “I’ve been through worse. I wanted to ask you, though. How many women have come through since you’ve been here?”

“Probably fifty to a hundred? I try to pay as much attention as possible when the lights are on. As much as I can without drawing attention to myself, anyway.”

The seed of an idea that formed as soon as I thought of Misha and calmed myself has blossomed into an undeniable vision that I know will be my purpose in life. Even though I had no idea what horrors Conor was inflicting on women other than myself, guilt that I should have…I don’t know. Figured it out? Suspected? Called the police, although I’m sure a significant portion of the force is in his back pocket? Done something at least, to try to expose him sooner. That guilt will stay with me forever.

“I’m sorry I didn’t try to ring any alarms sooner. I could’ve—”

“You couldn’t have done anything, Abby. He would have killed you the moment you got even a whiff of what he actually does. You did the best thing you could, which was to survive.”

The conviction in her voice is unmistakable even though she speaks softly. Hopefully, I’ll fully believe her one day, but for now, her assurances mean more than she knows.

“Do you think you remember any of their faces? I know it’s hard to see all the way to the end of the room.”

She’s quiet for a while, almost long enough that I wonder if she’s fallen asleep.

“I think I remember a lot of them. The men who bring them—it isn’t always Conor—like to taunt, so they say their names. I guess they don’t think any of us will ever be free, so who cares if we know who’s down here with us.”

“When we get out of here, we’re going to find them.” The conviction in my voice surprises me, but it’s the truth. I can feel it. This is what I’m meant to do, and I’m done being sad about what’s happened to me. I’m surviving this, and I’m doing whatever it takes to help these women.

“How?”

“The man who’s coming for me…he’s one of the good ones. He’s got a lot of resources, and I know he’ll help. It’ll be a lot of work. We’ll need to work on the IT side of things to start tracking down Conor’s customers, and build a safe place for recovery—”

“With female staff,” Sandy interjects, and I can tell she’s getting excited.

“Definitely. Plenty of group spaces, as well as private areas. We can have counselors, guided meditation classes…”