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drawers at its side. Rushe yanked open the top one and pulled out a folded pair of socks, which he held up to her.
    ‘You gonna keep your mouth shut?’ he said.
    Rushe hadn’t put a light on, so she still didn’t get a good look at him. But the angles of his face told her he wasn’t to be messed with.
    ‘I—‘
    ‘There’s no one around here for thirty miles,’ he said. ‘Scream yourself raw and you’ll only piss me off. You want this in your mouth?’
    ‘I got something she can put in there.’
    Rushe spun on the man she hadn’t noticed either. ‘You get the fuck out of here.’
    After h e hurled the door into its frame he came back to her.
    ‘Please let me go.’
    ‘I’m not letting you go,’ he said. ‘If you keep your mouth shut and stay put we won’t have a problem... are you gonna do what you’re told this time?’
    Any argument she had died on her lips knowing that reason wouldn’t get her anywhere. In fairness , the last time she hadn’t heeded his word she’d got herself into this mess, so she nodded.
    ‘Good girl.’
    With that he left her alone in the darkness. The finality of that closing door sent tears skittering down her cheeks. She’d never leave this house again, or at least she wouldn’t leave it alive – of that Flick was absolutely sure.
     
     
    Flick had given up her attempts to hear what was going on outside this room. Voices came and went; they got louder then dimmed; voices laughed then growled, jeered and joked. It went on for hours.
    At l east she’d assumed it was hours. With her hands restrained against the pipe, Flick couldn’t see her watch. Not that it would matter, because there was no light but for the slither glowing under the door.
    Everything had happened so fast. Flick replayed events over in her mind, trying to figure out how she had found herself here. From being on that street dwelling on her crappy day, to here, alone in this small room, waiting for her jailer to return.
    Rushe hadn’t harmed her physically but Flick couldn’t be sure that would last. For all she knew they were out there g etting drunk, waiting to attack her when they all got up the courage. But men like those in that back room at Dell’s didn’t need an excuse to assault a woman, they’d been willing to do it since they set eyes on her. Rushe hadn’t. He had tried to warn Flick against going into that bar. Flick had never been known for toeing any line. Perhaps she entered Dell’s in defiance of Rushe’s request. That did sound like something she’s do, once again her stubbornness had got her into trouble.
    But the how didn’t matter, she was here now. Here in this isolated shack, with at least five men, and the only thing that had prevented her from being harmed further was Rushe. His motivation was unclear, and he hadn’t given Flick any details of his intentions, all she could do was wait. Hope didn’t linger in her, if she had believed that kicking and screaming, and raising bloody hell would liberate her then she would do it. But Rushe had warned her against it. Flick didn’t want to piss off the only thing that stood between her and the depraved animals who had tethered her to the bed in Dell’s.
    Her body grew heavy. Her feet were cold and her legs had fallen asleep from the hardness of the b are boards beneath her rear. Flick’s hands had long since gone numb and the weight of the night settled on her, so her eyes began to drift closed.
    Just when the exhaustion was about to overcome her footfalls came closer and the door opened. She squinted into the burst of light that died when the door closed again. There was one step, then a squeak of the bed.
    Unexpectedly light flooded the space dazzling her. But she couldn’t raise her hand to shield her eyes, so she blinked into it. When Flick lifted her head she saw that the light came from a lamp on top of the drawers. Rushe sat there on the bed with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped, just looking at