Blood Red Blindfold

Chapter 12

The wood floors creak underneath our feet. The old boards remind me of the foster home I lived in when Josh met me. It was a shabby house with four bedrooms. Paint was peeling off the walls and pieces of ceiling were constantly falling into your hair. Mrs. Hull was a rude little woman that had eleven of us foster kids running around her house. She forced me to sleep in the closet. I hated her. And as Grant knocks on Terrox's door, his voice reminds me of her. Evil leaks from his mouth in just a single word, "Enter!"

I shudder into Grant as he opens the door. Squeezing my eyes shut to block out the deep red, I am pushed into the room. I don't want to be here. He's going to kill me. He's going to flip when he realizes that I don't have parents. The blindfold falls away, and I force my eyes open.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Terrox mocks a sweet voice. My breathing hitches, but I follow his orders. I have to act weak. That's what Grant said. It's not hard because I am. I can't do this. I can't handle this. All the anger and fire that filled me when I first stood in front of him is gone. Fear has permanently taken control. They've done this before, rings in my brain.

"Hailey Graham," he muses. My name sounds sour coming from his lips. "I did a little research on you." I nervously glance around. Where are the other two men? Shaggy and Bumpy? Terrox continues to talk. "But I couldn't find you anywhere. You see, darling. I think you were lying to me. I'm only going to ask one more time. What is your real name?"

I gulp. Of course there isn't anything on me. You don't really exist when you don't have parents. I had googled myself many times and nothing about me had ever popped up. I hear Grant stiffen behind me. "I swear to you that my name is Hailey Graham." The words sound terrible in my ears. He is about to find out.

Terrox stares at me, unimpressed. "Then who are your parents?"

Five words. He only had to say five words to break my heart. I was always able to say who my foster parent was. But I had never had to admit that I didn't know my parents names. Not to someone I didn't trust. I try to force the answer out of myself. I wish there was some name I could give him. Not for his satisfaction, but for my own. He was asking for the one piece of me that was missing.

I stare at my feet. "I don't know," I answer in a whisper.

I feel Terrox's eyes cutting holes into my skin. "Excuse me?"

I finally look up at him. He was demanding this terrible part of me. And I was going to give it to him. "I don't know," I say fiercely. "They left me. I don't know who they are. I don't have any." The words spill out with venom. Every time that I had ever acknowledged it, it was with longing for what I didn't have. But now it is fury. They've left me in such a terrible situation. This is all their fault.

The vicious man stares at me blankly. I hear Grant curse behind me. I thought the weight would release some when Terrox found out. But the way his eyes are fixed on me make everything worse. "Leave," Terrox finally spits. Oh no. That's even worse. What is he thinking?

It's Grant that pulls me from the chair and covers my eyes with the blindfold. But the red doesn't bother me. Everything is numb. The echo of our steps seems so far away. We turn the wrong way. I can feel it. A different door opens and shuts behind us. There aren't any steps for me to trip down. Instead, the blindfold falls away and Grant groans. He collapses onto a bed that is pushed against the wall.

I take in my surroundings. The bed has a blue comforter and the walls are painted grey. The room is quite simple, but livable. I awkwardly shift on my feet looking at his slumped figure. The blood red cloth is clutched tightly in his hand.

"Why couldn't you make up another name? He gave you an opportunity. You could have bought yourself more time. You just needed more time." Grant sounds so defeated.

"I don't understand. Why do you care? Aren't you trying to make a profit out of us?" I stare at him, tired of his confusing actions.

"I am." He scowls at me exhaustedly. "But I'm trying to keep you alive. What part of me not wanting to be an accessory to murder did you not get?"

My eyes shift away from him. Okay. I wouldn't want to be a murderer either. And he's my only hope. Our only hope. My mind shifts to Josh, who is all alone in the basement. He's probably worrying.

Grant starts muttering to himself. "Now I've got to figure out a way to fix this," he mumbles. "Do you have any money? At all?"

"What's in my bank account. Which is currently kind of empty." Empty after the trip I just took, searching for the one thing that could get me out of this mess. Parents. Or any family at all.

Grant's hand rubs his face. He looks so stressed. His head slumps and his fingers run through his short red hair. Another curse escapes his lips. "Okay," he finally mutters. "I've got to take you back now. Before they notice."