Free Blood and Justice by Rayven T. Hill

other side. She inspected herself. A badly bruised elbow, and a cut along one arm where she’d scraped it on a piece of sharp plaster. But otherwise ok.
    She smiled grimly. “I’m free,” she whispered, as if not believing it. She jumped to her feet and threw her hands in the air. “Yes!” Her voice rose in triumph. “Free!”
    She knew the wicked little man who’d held her captive wouldn’t be home for a while, but she was cautious as she made her way along the hallway toward the stairs descending to the main floor. Listening carefully a moment, she heard nothing. Holding the bannister with one hand, she took each step carefully. They squeaked in protest as she rested her weight on each tread. She stopped often to listen, and then continued, one slow step at a time, until she reached the landing.
    The house appeared still and quiet. She could see the kitchen off to one side, and the living room at the other. She waited for a minute, contemplating her quickest means of escape. The back door off the kitchen would probably be the best.
    She crept along the wall, moving slowly toward the kitchen. When she saw a telephone over by the fridge, she knew she should call for help instead of just dashing madly out to who knows where. She didn’t know where she was, but she pulled the phone from the wall clip and quickly dialed her mother’s phone number.
    The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three rings. “Hello?” It was her mother’s voice.
    Jenny hadn’t heard the back door being unlocked. She hadn’t heard it when Jeremy swung the door open.
    “Mom, it’s Jenny. I’m ok. I don’t know where I am but . . .” She heard a noise behind her, and turned at the sound. Her voice froze in shock and terror. He had a pair of earphones on. His back was to her as he plunked a couple of grocery bags on the kitchen table. She dropped the phone, letting it hang, and slunk back to a spot at the end of the cupboards where he couldn’t see her.
    She tried to control her breathing as she shivered in fright. She could hear him removing things from the bags and dropping them on the table. Her mind was running at full speed, deciding what to do. Any moment now, he could come to the fridge, and he would see her. She had to take a chance now. Half rolling, half crawling, she scrambled across the floor toward the entrance to the living room. She ducked around the corner and sat there a moment panting. A look around the room brought her to a swift decision. The couch. Behind the couch.
    She heard a gasp from the kitchen, and then swearing. She heard the phone jangle as he slammed it back on its spot. Then, she heard him dash furiously upstairs. In a moment, he was down again.
    “Jenny,” he called. “Where are you?” His voice was half angry, half mocking.
    She was behind the couch now, trying to think. She rose up slightly and peeped at the front door. It was a double door, securely closed, and chained. She wouldn’t have time to get it open before he found her.
    “Oh, Jenny,” he sang.
    He was in the living room now.
    “I know you’re here. The kitchen door was locked, and the front door still is, so I know you’re here. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
    Her mind was frantically searching for a plan. Anything that would give her a chance. She wished she had a weapon. She should’ve grabbed a knife from the kitchen. She wished she had, but she didn’t. All she had was a hiding place. And an unsafe one.
    She held her breath. Her breathing seemed rasping, ragged, and uneven. Her heart sounded like thunder in her chest. Her leg was going numb from crouching in an awkward and cramped position. She dared to take another breath, letting the air out slowly. It sounded like rushing wind.
    She could hear him now, in the small room, maybe an office, or spare bedroom off the living room. He was still calling her name, taunting her. A closet door slammed.
    It was now, or maybe never.
    She was still wearing her shoes. She slid them off