They couldn't tell up from down or left from right. They couldn't tell what Nathan's next move would be. And they couldn't tell if the Jerome, the boy in the basement, was really screaming, or if they were just imagining it, replaying memories.
They could only tell one thing: They needed to get out.
If not for them, then for Jerome.
They knew they couldn't run. They had no place to go, and they wouldn't feel safe regardless until Nathan was locked up far, far away. But then Nathan would be hurting, and some sick part of them didn't want him to be hurting... and another part of them wanted to hurt him in all the ways he hurt them...
It took strength to make the call. It took mental gymnastics. It took accepting that they didn't love Nathan, they hated him more than anything. It took unlearning everything he had told them.
Skylar waited until Nathan was down in the basement, as far away as he could get from them. Then, they outstretched a shaking hand to pick up their phone and click on the call icon.
Their fingers trembled as they dialed 911. They didn't know what they were going to say. I helped my sicko boyfriend torture and kill a couple kids, but hey, I promise I'm a victim, too.
They almost didn't press the call button. But they realized that prison would be an upgrade. As long as they didn't have to share a cell with Nathan. And at the very least, Jerome would be free.
They called.
It didn't go through.
The words were clear as day on their screen: Blocked Number.
What?
They tried again.
Blocked Number.
Skylar figured they must be having a bad dream. They would wake up, do what Nathan says, and be a good partner for him. They were being so bad right now. They should've never even thought of calling the police. They resorted to tell him what happened later, maybe they could salvage their reputation a little...
They didn't get the chance.
The door to the bedroom swung open. Nathan was standing in the doorway, shooting daggers at Skylar with his eyes. Nonono. They threw the phone on the bed in an attempt to be inconspicuous, but Nathan still prowled toward them, glaring.
"Back so soon, babe?" Skylar forced a smile, their voice shaking.
Nathan backhanded them across the face and grabbed their chin, forcing eye contact. "Do you think I'm that stupid?"
"I, um..." Skylar stumbled for words, but none came out.
"I set up your phone so that you can't call 911. But if you try," Nathan held up his own phone, "I get a notification."
Skylar's stomach dropped. "I wasn't, I-"
"Save it." He bruised their face with the grip on their chin. "You interrupted my whipping session with Jerome, you know that? Do you want to take his lashes for him?"
Skylar violently shook their head back and forth. Their eyes welled up with tears. "Please, no..."
"Be in the basement in thirty minutes to fix him up." A twinkle shone in Nathan's eye. "Then, I'll distribute your punishment. How does that sound?"
"Please-" A punch to the gut cut them off as they wheezed for air.
"Shut up." He left, finally, and Skylar curled up on the bed, crying as they wondered how they got themselves into this mess.
They could only tell one thing: They weren't sleeping on their back tonight.
