Taken

Chapter 2

The corners of Ash's frowning lips curled to reveal a hint of a smile as he looked at me. It was the smallest of shifts but was the most emotion he ever showed.

I shut the door behind me, leaving it open a crack to let light into the dark room that only had a small window that was covered with metal bars and cardboard that let enough light in to make out basic shapes of the clutter it was filled with. Clutter that was kept out of arms reach from the man it had been housing for more years than I was sure. I had only discovered him when I was fifteen, sent down to be locked away with the monster my parents used to always threaten me with.

The greatest monsters I knew were them.

"Miss me?" I asked with a teasing tone that felt as forced as my smile. Though I was happy to see him, I wasn't happy to take in his condition.

"Always," he replied, showing a flash of his teeth.

Instead of easing my tension, his response had my guilt growing. As bad as life was for me, Ash had it far worse. And I made it worse when I failed to get him out of here.

Making my way towards him, I crouched in front of him, placing the bottle of vodka on the ground as I reached for his hands. Though he was no longer the skin-covered skeleton I found him as months ago, he was still too thin. The food I had been sneaking down to him wasn't enough, especially for someone of his height. I was going to need to cut my own meals that had already grown smaller to add to his and dip into the measly savings I had managed to gather to get him more. He to regain his strength more than we would need the money. At least his gradual recovery made it harder for my parents to notice the changes that steadily being fed resulted in.

Hopefully, I would find us a way out of here before they managed to stay sober long enough to notice.

I winced at the sight of the blood-stiffened bandages surrounding his wrists. It had been a few days since I last had a chance to tend to them with my dad not leaving the house as much as he typically did. Preoccupied with worry about how I would continue to hide my interference as Ash's health continued to improve, it slipped my mind that his increased presence typically warned of a delivery day nearing. And a dip in Ash's progress.

Though they typically were willing to turn a blind eye to the care I provided Ash, that changed the night they found me trying to pick the locks of his old shackles with a packed duffle bag at my side that held clothes and supplies to last the both of us a few days. It was clear what I was doing. The next day they were making changes to the basement while I lay on the floor in the hallway, bloody and unconscious. They were done turning a blind eye.

Luckily, for now, it wasn't that difficult to hide my aid and the slow progress he was making behind the baggy clothes that covered him from ankle to wrist and long hair that draped over his shoulders. Despite clearly being malnourished, the strands appeared healthier and glossier than mine. His unhealthily pale skin, paler now than it was when I last saw him, was clear where it wasn't meeting the irritating material chaining him in place. The places where his skin was stretched over his bones had me feeling guilty and ashamed of the extra bit of cushioning my body held from quick, cheap, and unhealthy meals despite losing weight ever since I first unlocked the door.

Hiding his snail's pace weight gain was easy for now, but the bandages protecting his skin from the metal that had it blistering and bleeding... I got a bit creative and hoped it was enough to fool them.

Chains rattled as I grabbed his hands and pulled them towards me. The shackles encasing his wrists no longer held keyholes like they had four years ago. Now, they were welded on. Like the door and windows.