Read Online Gone (Gone #1) by Stacy Claflin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stacy Claflin
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to give him another reason to make fun of her.
He would be worried, though. It gave her comfort realizing that. Sure, he could be the most annoying kid on the planet, but he cared about her. He had been the first one to notice when she started starving herself. He had practically begged her to stop. Deep down, he was still the sweet kid he had always been.
She pulled more hay over herself and turned away from the wall. She could still hear water streaming down. It made her have to pee again, but she didn't want to get up. She'd wait until she couldn't hold it.
Was her best bet to pretend to be Heather? She really had no chance at escaping, unless the psycho moved her somewhere else. Why would he? He probably knew she wouldn't be able to get out.
Thunder cracked, and she jumped. She pulled more hay over herself, trying to hide from it.
If she pretended to be Heather, would he give her more freedom? An actual bed, maybe? Would he let her stay in the farmhouse with him? Obviously she wouldn't get her cell phone back, but lying in a bed sounded so nice. Maybe she would even get some fresh clothes.
Maybe if she pretended to be his daughter, he would be nice to her. What if he continued to be a jerk? What had happened to the real Heather, anyway? She could try to find out if he let her out of the basement. It was worse than being in jail. Prisoners at least had rights and meals. She had nothing.
Why was she even considering giving into him? That was what he wanted. She was down there so he could turn her into an obedient captive. Macy had taken psychology. That was exactly his plan. But maybe if she knew that, she would be able to keep herself from getting Stockholm's syndrome and becoming sympathetic to him.
He wouldn't really go back and kill her family. He was only playing her.
Macy needed a new plan, and unfortunately, that meant she was going to have to pretend to be his daughter. She would have to think of herself as a performer. The farm was her stage, that jerk was her audience. On the outside, she would be Heather, but on the inside, she would remain Macy.
She had to. It was her only real hope of escape.
Was the time passing slowly, or was that jerk staying away for a long time to mess with her? She rolled back over and looked up at the boards.
She had probably been dreaming, thinking she could actually get out on her own. Chester would have taken every measure to make sure she couldn't get out. He might have even put something in the bales to make them heavier.
Now that she wanted out, she wasn't sure what was worse: being alone in the horrid dungeon or pretending to be Heather and acting like Chester was her dad. She didn't even want to look at him, much less act like his kid, but it was her only hope of escape.
A noise outside caught her attention. At first, she thought it was the rumbling thunder again. Soon it sounded like wheels on gravel. Her heart picked up speed. Was he coming to check on her? Would she soon be climbing the rope ladder to never see the awful room again?
Macy held her breath, listening to the sound of crunching gravel. She sat up when she heard a slight squeal of brakes. She couldn't hear anything over the pounding of her heart.
"Please come in the barn," she whispered.
She took several deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. She heard a car door slam, followed by what sounded like footsteps over wet gravel. Soon, all she could hear was the rain. She held her breath, trying to hear more.
Something moved above her. She heard shuffling noises. Something clicked, and then creaked. Macy stared at the trap door, squeezing the hay in her hands.
The door opened, and after what seemed like forever, he put his face down where she could see it. "Looks like you've been busy. Did you throw a party while I was gone?" He laughed. "Did you have enough time to think about what we discussed?"
What they discussed ? She stared at him, refusing to answer. She wanted to choose her words
He would be worried, though. It gave her comfort realizing that. Sure, he could be the most annoying kid on the planet, but he cared about her. He had been the first one to notice when she started starving herself. He had practically begged her to stop. Deep down, he was still the sweet kid he had always been.
She pulled more hay over herself and turned away from the wall. She could still hear water streaming down. It made her have to pee again, but she didn't want to get up. She'd wait until she couldn't hold it.
Was her best bet to pretend to be Heather? She really had no chance at escaping, unless the psycho moved her somewhere else. Why would he? He probably knew she wouldn't be able to get out.
Thunder cracked, and she jumped. She pulled more hay over herself, trying to hide from it.
If she pretended to be Heather, would he give her more freedom? An actual bed, maybe? Would he let her stay in the farmhouse with him? Obviously she wouldn't get her cell phone back, but lying in a bed sounded so nice. Maybe she would even get some fresh clothes.
Maybe if she pretended to be his daughter, he would be nice to her. What if he continued to be a jerk? What had happened to the real Heather, anyway? She could try to find out if he let her out of the basement. It was worse than being in jail. Prisoners at least had rights and meals. She had nothing.
Why was she even considering giving into him? That was what he wanted. She was down there so he could turn her into an obedient captive. Macy had taken psychology. That was exactly his plan. But maybe if she knew that, she would be able to keep herself from getting Stockholm's syndrome and becoming sympathetic to him.
He wouldn't really go back and kill her family. He was only playing her.
Macy needed a new plan, and unfortunately, that meant she was going to have to pretend to be his daughter. She would have to think of herself as a performer. The farm was her stage, that jerk was her audience. On the outside, she would be Heather, but on the inside, she would remain Macy.
She had to. It was her only real hope of escape.
Was the time passing slowly, or was that jerk staying away for a long time to mess with her? She rolled back over and looked up at the boards.
She had probably been dreaming, thinking she could actually get out on her own. Chester would have taken every measure to make sure she couldn't get out. He might have even put something in the bales to make them heavier.
Now that she wanted out, she wasn't sure what was worse: being alone in the horrid dungeon or pretending to be Heather and acting like Chester was her dad. She didn't even want to look at him, much less act like his kid, but it was her only hope of escape.
A noise outside caught her attention. At first, she thought it was the rumbling thunder again. Soon it sounded like wheels on gravel. Her heart picked up speed. Was he coming to check on her? Would she soon be climbing the rope ladder to never see the awful room again?
Macy held her breath, listening to the sound of crunching gravel. She sat up when she heard a slight squeal of brakes. She couldn't hear anything over the pounding of her heart.
"Please come in the barn," she whispered.
She took several deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. She heard a car door slam, followed by what sounded like footsteps over wet gravel. Soon, all she could hear was the rain. She held her breath, trying to hear more.
Something moved above her. She heard shuffling noises. Something clicked, and then creaked. Macy stared at the trap door, squeezing the hay in her hands.
The door opened, and after what seemed like forever, he put his face down where she could see it. "Looks like you've been busy. Did you throw a party while I was gone?" He laughed. "Did you have enough time to think about what we discussed?"
What they discussed ? She stared at him, refusing to answer. She wanted to choose her words
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