Free Stay by Emily Goodwin

an in-ground pool gave off a murky glow beneath the crystal clear water. Wicker lounge chairs with fluffy, red cushions surrounded an outdoor bar, and a built-in fireplace and grill occupied each corner of the patio. Like the rest of the house, it seemed to have been cut and pasted out of a Better Homes and Garden magazine. Though it was still early in the season, red and white flowers spilled over stone planters, leaving me to believe that someone had spent a lot of time and money having this place landscaped, manicured, and groomed to perfection.
    But why?
    My eyes swept the lawn. The entire thing was lined with a tall white iron fence. I knew right away that I wouldn’t be able to climb it fast enough to get away. I was outside … so close to freedom. I had to do something. I was out of the basement—out of the house . The open air and distant buzzing of crickets reminded me that there were other people out there. Other people who could help me. My shoes scuffed the cement patio around the pool as I slowed. I looked at the surrounding land. There was nothing, absolutely nothing but untended land around the yard. I felt trapped all over again.
    “Could you take any longer?” The sound of Zane’s voice sent a jolt through me.  
    I ground my teeth and pulled my arms close to my body. Zane was standing off to the side, concealed by shadows. He gracefully pushed off the shed he was leaning on. “Hurry the fuck up, you slow-ass whore.”
      “Don’t touch me,” I said through gritted teeth when Zane grabbed my arm, yanking me forward. I pulled my arm back, trying to break his hold. I wasn’t strong enough. All I ended up doing was causing the first layer of skin to twist and tear.  
    Zane laughed and jumped in front of me. His fingers tightened on my arm, the pain biting into me until I was sure blood pooled under the half moon marks left by his fingernails.
    “I like it when you fight,” he groaned. With his free hand, he reached up and took a fist full of my hair and stepped closer, brushing his waist against mine. Jackson turned around, face blank. He didn’t care what happened to me.  
    Then Zane let me go. He laughed and turned his back to me, purposely flashing the silver gun tucked into his pants. My heart was in my throat. Nerves tingled throughout my body, and my teeth chattered.  
    “Come on,” Zane ordered and paced ahead.  
    I looked at the ground, blinking back tears. Jackson waited until I was a few feet in front of him to follow. The invisible wall of the cage closed in on me. I was sandwiched between Zane and Jackson. Their body heat suffocated me. Mixed with the humid air, it was nauseating.  
    We crossed the yard and stopped by a gate. Jackson dug a key from his pocket and unlocked it. He pushed it open and stepped aside. Zane took a hold of my arm again, forcing me to walk close to him. A gravel path cut into the forest, which started just several feet from the white fence.  
    The gate slammed shut behind us. A useless sense of hope fluttered through me. I wasn’t fenced in. I could run away.
    And get shot.
    There was nothing I could do. There was no escape. I felt like I was walking to the end of a plank, precariously hanging over shark-infested water. When I jumped, sharp teeth would rip into me and the cold water would steal my breath away. The monsters would take everything from me, leaving me shivering and naked in the water. The only difference was that tonight I would be pulled from the icy darkness and forced to do it again. There would be no release from death, only pain.  
    Thinking of a plan of escape, I closed my eyes and continued to move forward, my pace subconsciously slowing down. Lily had said that Jackson and Zane would go back to the house while I worked. I had to run then. What other choice did I have?  
    Zane jerked me forward. The toe of my shoe caught on the uneven path and I stumbled and tripped.
    “Seriously?” Zane huffed under his breath.  
    My throat