Sam woke up. He was cold. It wasn't surprising. He was in a cold, damp cellar. His clothes were in tatters. He had no blanket. And his neck and legs were chained to the wall in such a way that made it impossible for him to curl up and maximize body warmth. He was stuck in a sitting position. It had taken him a couple of nights to figure out how to sleep without strangling or choking himself.
He heard a key turning in the lock of his cell. He looked down anticipating the bright light that would enter the now dim room.
"Did you have a good night?"
"Yes, sir," Sam whispered. He knew it was the expected response. That didn't necessarily mean that he wouldn't receive a beating this morning.
"Do you know how long you've been here?"
Sam considered. It was hard to keep track in a cell with no windows, but he seemed to get fed on a fairly regular schedule. "Two weeks?" he guessed.
"That's exactly right, Sammy. It's been two weeks today."
Sam cringed. 'Sammy' usually meant a bad mood. And a bad mood meant a whipping or a carving session.
"You were at a gas station when I brought you here. I never asked where you were going."
Sam remained silent. He hadn't been asked yet. Only told that he hadn't been asked. He heard a chuckle indicating that he had been right not to answer.
"You're getting smarter. Where were you going?"
"I had an interview for a summer internship in Oregon," Sam answered. He guessed he could pretty much kiss that good-bye, but he didn't really care at the moment. He had bigger problems.
"Where did you get the car?"
"My girlfriend loaned it to me," Sam answered without thinking. He hoped he hadn't just made Jessica into a target. He didn't think so, though.
"I hope she's not expecting it back."
Sam didn't say anything. He wouldn't mention Jess again.
"So, Sammy, how do you like college? Was it worth leaving your family for?"
Dangerous ground. That was the second time Sammy had been used. He would be beaten no matter what he said. He decided not to give the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, he slowly brought his head up to meet his father's eyes.
"I asked you a question."
"I didn't leave you. You're the one who told me never to come back."
Then as expected, he saw the fist come at him. He was grateful that it was just a fist this morning and not a whip. His father rained blow upon blow on him.