Held & Pushed (2 book bundle) (7 page)

Every
night, he undressed me. And every night, as I stood before him naked, he kissed
my neck. Once I was strapped to the bed, he kissed and touched my body in
various places. Though there had been a couple of times when I was sure it was
going to happen, he still hadn’t raped me. It made me nervous because I could
tell by the way he kissed and touched me when I was naked that he wanted me.
Badly.
Even if I’d failed to notice the lust in his touch, I
wouldn’t have failed to notice the bulge in his khaki slacks. I wasn’t sure how
long he’d hold out before giving in to his desires.

During the
second week, he noticed my leg hair had grown to be stubbly, and said we were
going to have to do something about it. Personally, I wanted the hair to grow
as long the hair on my head if it meant it would turn him off to me physically,
but he insisted we get rid of it. Of course, he wouldn’t buy a razor and let me
shave my own legs. And it was a good thing for him he didn’t. I would’ve
disassembled that sucker and went to slicing and dicing on him in a hurry. But
he did buy an electric shaver and shave them himself. It was humiliating, but
again, if this was as bad as it got, then fine by me.

The third
week, I had my period. He bought the tampons I needed. In fact, anything I
needed, he provided without so much as a complaint. Had he not been a
psychopath, he would’ve made an excellent husband.

The fourth
Wednesday into my captivity, however, things went wrong. Horribly, horribly
wrong.

I’d been
living up to my end of this arrangement with my smart mouth. He liked the way I
handled myself. I had a feeling it was what kept me out of the basement. His
moods changed quicker than the flicker of a light bulb, though. One second, I
was mouthing off to him and he was laughing and loving it. The next second, he
was showing his angry side because of something I’d said. I wasn’t used to
dealing with schizophrenic psychopaths and wasn’t sure how to handle it. I
thought I was doing a pretty good job, though, for someone thrust into a
situation like this.

I was
cuffed to the kitchen table while Ron prepared dinner. With his back to me, he
mentioned his plans for the evening.

“I believe
it’s time, Nicole.”

“Time for what?”

“It’s time
for me to show you how I feel about you.”

I looked
down at my cuffed wrist with the chafed skin. “I think I know how you feel
about me, Ron.”

“I don’t
think you do. And even if you did, I believe it’s time I showed you.”

My mind
spun as I tried to think of what he could possibly mean. There were several
things popping into my mind, but I prayed for each one to be wrong.

“Are you
going to let me go now?” I asked, knowing the answer would be no.

He
chuckled. “No. Tonight, I will come to you.”

“What does
that mean?”

“It means
I will come to you, Nicole. I will come to your bed, and you will have me.”

“You come
to my bed and I’ll have you, alright. I’ll have you arrested.”

He threw
his head up toward the ceiling and laughed a deep laugh. I watched as he
continued to laugh, shaking his head with amusement. Glad I could humor him.

“Oh, Nicole.
I’m
so glad you’re here. This last month has been such a joy for me. You have no
idea how good you’ve been for me and how much I’ve enjoyed having you here.
That’s one reason I plan to come to you tonight. I’d like to show you how much
I appreciate you.”

“No, I’m
okay.”

I watched
him tense. “What do you mean you’re okay?”

“I have
some idea of how much you appreciate me. There’s no need to show me.” I tried
to say it lightly, hoping to avoid making him angry. I saw immediately that it
hadn’t worked.

He spun
around to face me. “I’m going to show you. I’ve been more than good to you, and
what have I asked in return?
Nothing.
I’ve asked nothing
of you. I provide you with food, a proper place to sleep, all the things you
need, and I have asked nothing in return.” His cheeks grew red with anger, and
even from across the room I saw his nostrils flare.

“Hey,” I
yelled, all my restraint falling away. “You make it sound like I asked to move
in here with you. You kidnapped me! To say that you provide me with food and a
proper place to sleep is stupid. You brought me here against my will. You’ve
asked nothing of me? You’ve asked everything of me! You asked me to be compliant
and submissive. To not scream so people can hear. You’ve asked me to assist you
in writing a book that no one will read. You want me to keep you in
conversation and be good company for you. And now you ask me to let you have
your way with me. I don’t want to be here, asshole, but I’m stuck. I’ve made
this easy on you so far.” Before I could go on, he laughed a loud, fake laugh.

“You’ve
made this easy on me so far?” He laughed again. It wasn’t his normal you’re-so-funny-and-cute-and-that’s-why-I-keep-you-out-of-the-basement
laugh. This was thin and strained. The man was cracking up in front of me.
Suddenly, the laughter stopped and he glared at me.

A chill
ran down my spine. I wasn’t a fortune teller or a psychic, but I had a feeling
that I’d just screwed myself.

He turned
his back to me and continued dinner, without speaking. I welcomed the silence,
but it worried me. I’d clearly made him angry. This quiet anger was new, a side
he hadn’t shown until now.

We ate in
silence.

Usually,
after dinner, we played cards and had a drink. Not today. Today, after dinner,
he went to the basement, leaving me sitting at the table alone.

As I
always did, I tried to pull my hand free of the handcuff. There was sure to be
a time when he failed to tighten the cuffs, and I was going to slip away. I
never knew when that day would be, so I constantly tried to slide my arm free.

Several
minutes later, I began to feel funny. Lightheaded, like my head was going to
float off my body. My mouth became dry, and I felt nauseous. I broke out in a
cold sweat. Feeling as though I were going to pass out, I put my left arm on
the table and laid my head on it. I closed my eyes and hoped the feeling would
pass.

I dreamed Ron
picked me up and carried me away from the table. Cupped in his arms, I felt as
though I were falling down into the cool darkness.

When I woke
some time later, I was devastated to learn that it hadn’t been a dream at all.

Chapter
10

So this was the basement
, I thought as I blinked to clear my vision.
I’d spent all this time wondering what it was like and now I was here. And I
wished like hell I wasn’t.

The cold
steel cuff was tight on my right wrist, the other end of the cuffs locked
around a thick metal pipe that ran up the dirty concrete wall. I was lying on
an old mattress on the floor. I had a pillow, though it smelled terrible. In
fact, the whole basement smelled horrible. It was a sickening combination of
dampness, rotten wood, dirt, stale water, and a medley of body odors.

I looked
across the ceiling to the bare bulbs that hung from the beams. I counted four
bulbs swinging from long cords, but only three of them were lit. One of them
was considerably dimmer than the other two.

Raising my
head from the pillow, I looked down my body and across the room. About ten feet
past the end of the mattress I was lying on, was the stairs that led to the
main floor.
Where I should be.
Where
I would be, if I hadn’t let my stupid mouth out-talk my ass.

The
mattress that was my bed at the moment was nestled in the corner, a wall on two
sides. The room opened up to my left, where I turned my attention.

That’s
when I saw Stephanie.

I quickly
scooted myself into a sitting position, taking in the scene before me.

She was
naked, just as she’d been the last time I’d seen her. I hadn’t thought it was
possible at the time, but she was dirtier now than then. Her arms were
stretched out, each handcuffed to a chain. The chains were connected to some
sort of metal hook that was anchored in the concrete floor. Her legs were
outstretched in the same manner, spread wide apart.

“Stephanie,”
I said hoarsely. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Stephanie.”

She didn’t
seem to hear me. If she was asleep, surely she would’ve been woken by the sound
of my voice. I said her name again, louder this time, but she still didn’t
move. I was afraid he’d killed her. Focusing on her chest where her bare
breasts were covered in dirt, bruises, and lacerations, I saw the rise and fall
of her body, though it was quick and had no rhythm. She wasn’t doing well.

She was
far too thin. Her ribs were so
visible,
they appeared
ready to poke through her skin at any second. Her hip bones protruded up at
sharp angles. She looked to be nothing more than a skeleton with skin.

Figuring
she needed whatever rest she could get, I put my back against the concrete
wall, drew my knees up to my chest, and with one arm around my legs and the
other handcuffed to a pipe, I waited. I hated to admit it to myself, but I
suppose I was waiting on Ron. If he liked me as much as he said, he wouldn’t
leave me down here. Of course, if he liked me as much as he said, he probably
wouldn’t have put me down here in the first place, no matter how mouthy I had
been.

What
must’ve been a half hour went by before the door at the top of the wooden
stairs opened and Ron appeared. When he saw that I was awake, he quickly closed
the door behind him and nearly ran down the stairs.

At the
bottom, he stopped and smiled at me. “Glad to have you back.”

“Yeah.
Good to be
here. Listen, I was thinking maybe you could take me back upstairs with you.”

“I’m
afraid not.
At least not for a while.”

“Why not?”

“You need
to be taught a lesson. I don’t think you appreciate me or the things I’ve done
for you. You don’t realize how good you’ve had it, or how much worse you could
have it. So I decided that the best way to teach you is to show you. And so
you’re here.
Learning.”

Okay.
Surely, he wouldn’t leave me down here long.
A couple of
days, maybe.
I could pretend to have learned a lesson. I could act
grateful. Speed things along a bit.

“I hate to
see you down here, Nicole. I really do. But you must learn.” He turned his
attention to Stephanie. “She never learned. She never cared to learn. All she
ever thought about was
herself
. She didn’t care what I
wanted or needed from her. And look at her now. In trying so desperately to
save herself, she’s only succeeding in killing herself.”

“I think
she needs to see a doctor.”

“Oh I’m
sure she does.” He laughed. “But that’s not going to happen. You know that,
Nicole. Why do you insist on stating the obvious?”

Not
wanting to do anything to cause my stay in the basement to be longer, I shut my
mouth.

He walked
over to Stephanie and stood between her open legs looking down on her.

“I’m sure
she has broken bones,” he said leaning down and squeezing a section of her right
forearm, making the bones go in different directions.

I gasped
and winced.

“I’m sure
she has infected cuts,” he said as he placed his hands, palms down, on either
side of a terribly long and deep cut on her abdomen. I watched as he pulled
open the wound, sickened by his actions. From the redness around the wound, I
guessed that this wasn’t the first time he’d spread apart her battered flesh.
When he reached his hand down and gathered up some dirt from the concrete floor
and dropped it into her gaping midsection, it left little wonder as to why it
was infected. He wanted it to be. It was part of her lesson. Part of the
torture he seemingly enjoyed inflicting on her.

Stephanie
moaned, causing me to look back at her face, but she didn’t wake.

Ron stood
again. For a moment, he didn’t speak or move. He just stood there between her
outstretched legs. Then, he suddenly drew back his leg and kicked her in her
crotch. With those heavy boot-like shoes of his, I had no doubts that it hurt
terribly, but when Stephanie woke screaming, I knew for certain it had. After
all, the ripping open of a flesh wound hadn’t stirred her, but this had. With
her legs spread open as they were and her feet and hands shackled, she had no
way of defending herself. He stood there, kicking her crotch over and over, as
hard as he could. He didn’t even stop when the toe of his shoe became covered
in her blood.

Was this
the same man that made such great eggs? Was this the same man who could smile
while losing at Gin Rummy? The same man who’d bought my tampons without a
complaint? The man who’d laundered my clothes and folded them with such care?
The very same man who folded the toilet paper to a point?

I watched
as he kicked her, and I winced as she screamed, too shocked to look away.