Read Online Stained by Cheryl Rainfield - Free Book Online Page A

without food, but only seven days without water. I can’t have been here for more than a few hours, but I’m so thirsty my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. I shouldn’t be this thirsty; it must be the drug he gave me. But telling myself that doesn’t help.
    Anything’s better, though, than him being here. Unless he’s left me here to die. But what’s the point of kidnapping me just to let me die?
    I shiver. He had to kidnap me for a reason. Ransom? But my parents aren’t rich, and Brian knows Dad’s company is in trouble. So why? To rape me? To kill me?
    I gag. Those are the most likely answers. But then why didn’t he do it already?
    I hate not knowing why Brian did this. But I don’t really want to know, either. I just want to escape.
    It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. I trusted Brian. So did my parents. But here I am, Brian’s prisoner. And Dad and Mom? They must be crazy with worry.
    I miss them so badly. And I’m scared for them. Scared for me, too. But I can’t do anything until Brian gets back. That’s when things will change. I’ll
make
them change. Because he’ll have to open the door to come inside. And when he does, I will burst out of this prison.
    I rest my head on my knees and wait.

NICK
    7:50 P.M.
    Â 
    I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT a prick Charlene’s dad is. I could hear him swearing at her right through the phone, telling her to get her fat ass home. I felt sorry for her, though I tried not to show I’d heard.
    I wish she’d stayed. It’s cold, lonely work stopping passersby to ask them if they’ve seen Sarah, going into stores and asking shopkeepers who don’t want to talk to me once they see I’m not buying anything. I worry that I’m wasting my time, that there’s something else I should be doing to find her, but I don’t know what.
    I trip. I look to see what snared me—and stop breathing. I recognize that She-Hulk badge. I take a step back and nudge the backpack with my foot, turning it over and scooting it closer to a streetlight to be sure.
    It’s Sarah’s, all right. The little Superman figure dangling from the zipper pull, the Wonder Woman button I gave her, the Batgirl badge she made herself so that it would be her favorite Batgirl, Cassandra Cain . . .
    I think I’m going to be sick. Sarah would never leave her bag. I know for sure now—something bad has happened. If only I’d walked her home, or convinced her to go to the comic store with me. If only I’d been with her.
    God.
I close my eyes. I don’t want it to be true.
    I look again. It’s still lying there in a dark, sodden lump.
    I feel surreal staring at her bag, like it’s not really there or I’m not really here, but I know it is and I know I am. I wake my cell and call the detective, telling him what I found. I hang up and can’t remember a thing he said. I just know he’s coming.
    I pray that Sarah isn’t lying in a ditch somewhere. Pray that she’s still alive.
    I lean over, trying not to puke. I have to let Sarah’s parents know. I swipe open the keypad on my cell and call directory assistance.
    Â 
    Mrs. Meadows stands shaking over Sarah’s backpack. Mr. Meadows curses and turns away. The detective’s already taped off the area, and two more cop cars have pulled up, their lights flashing silently.
    I hover in the background. I feel like a dirty voyeur watching their pain and grief, but I can’t look away. I need to know what happens.
    A cop leaning over the gutter cries out, bags something, and holds it up. I move closer. A cell phone in a Wonder Woman skin. Sarah’s cell phone. Mrs. Meadows runs over.
    â€œNow, Mrs. Meadows, you know you can’t touch it,” the detective says. “We need it for evidence.”
    Mrs. Meadows whirls around, her fists clenched, and for a second I think she’s going to