Housebroken (7 page)

“Next time, we’ll be forced to break one of our other rules, won’t we?”

Night crept into the home like a silent stalker, slowly making its presence known. Shadows lurking in corners and darting between rooms spun Blake’s thoughts into a torrent of despair. The seesaw rise and fall, a constant shifting of what he should do, how he should be reacting, was set upon a fulcrum where no balance could be reached.

Did he protect his family by fighting Joje and Drew, trying to eliminate the threat, or by falling in line with his “experiment” and avoiding any fallout?

What would be the consequence should he try and fail?

And what would they be if he didn’t try?

The mental exertion of weighing options where no answer was in sight was exhausting. Blake’s indecision was in itself a decision; he would have to give it more time, hope their kidnappers would grow comfortable and let their guards down should an opportune moment arise. He just hoped he would recognize that moment when it came.

That evening, they discussed the plans for the following day. It felt good to get out in the open their normal activities, especially after the draining day they had endured. Jenna and Adam had even laughed, reflecting on how torturous seven days like today would have been. Blake wasn’t sure if laughter was the right response but had played along, smiling when needing to.

Tomorrow would be their first day apart, officially kicking off their grand adventure.

Joje would accompany Blake to the office in an attempt to save his job. He hadn’t decided on a play that would get JT back on his side but hoped something would come to mind.

It had to.

Drew would be following Jenna through her day, bringing Adam along for the ride. It was agreed she would continue running at the home gym, but Joje wanted her to attend her Pilates class, go shopping—a trip to the grocery store was discussed, though that was typically not Jenna’s forte—among the many other errands she had planned.

With the family being separated, and perhaps in response to Jenna’s illusive errands, Joje presented a system to keep everyone in check, a safety net for him and Drew. Every fifteen minutes, one of them would text the other a coded message to ensure their party was behaving. A response was required with whatever “code” they had come up with. If at any interval one party failed to respond within twenty minutes, allowing for a five-minute leeway, the other party was to assume the worst.

The repercussions hadn’t been discussed, but there was no question what they might be.

Blake expressed concerns of areas with no cell service or spotty reception or just one of them forgetting to check in. The plan was so full of holes it was almost guaranteed to go wrong. Joje had simply stated Blake and his family were as responsible as he and Drew. It was a matter of “teamwuhk,” and no amount of arguing would get him to sway.

At 10:47, they decided to turn in, earlier than normal but close enough not to warrant an argument, not that Blake was expecting to sleep anytime soon. Take away the stress and strain of the day and the spinning mill in his mind searching for solutions, and he still would be missing his Bluetooth earpiece and his phone’s sleep-inducing app. It was going to be a rough night.

Jenna drained her glass of wine at the kitchen island and set it in the sink. It was her fourth glass, and she was clearly on a buzz. Adam powered down his gaming console and collected the other controller from Drew.

“Come on, Conrad, let’s go potty,” he said.

The dog leapt to her feet, collar jangling as she followed Adam to the back door. It was such an insignificant thing, Adam being responsible, but to Blake, it meant the world. Especially after a day like today.

The back door shushed closed, and Adam ushered the dog into her cage, the rattle of the metal door engaging. “Good girl,” he said, probably slipping a treat in between the gridded bars of the crate.

Blake eyed the alarm system, which was set in the hall leading to the garage. One of the many things on the to-do list Jenna had given him.

He hit the lights, following Drew and Jenna down the hall to the foyer. An alarm wouldn’t have protected them anyway, not from the dangers already inside their home.

It wasn’t until Blake reached the stairs that the problem began.

“You’re going upstairs?” Adam asked.

“It’s time for bed,” Blake said, not realizing what his son was asking.

“Oh, okay.”

“What’s the problem?” Joje asked, picking up on the exchange. Adam looked, for lack of a better word, guilty. “What is it, Adam? You can be honest. You need to be honest.”

“I just, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

And suddenly, Blake knew what was bothering his son—his son who picked up on details most kids his age would have missed.

“You sure about that?” Joje asked.

“It’s been a long day. We can discuss this in the morning,” Blake offered. He continued toward the stairs.

Joje raised his palm toward Blake.

Stop
.

Surprisingly, Blake found himself doing just that.

“No one gets in trouble if you tell the truth.” Joje hadn’t broken eye contact with Adam, even with his display of power over Blake.

“My dad sleeps on the couch. At night.” Adam looked down as if ashamed. “We just, we’re supposed to keep our routine.”

Joje looked at Blake. The sense of excitement, of violence bubbling at the surface, seemed difficult to assuage.

Blake kept his voice steady. “Your mom, earlier today, asked me to sleep with her tonight. We’re turning over a new leaf.”

He looked up at Jenna, who stood halfway up the stairs, massaging her head from the headache apparently encroaching. “That’s right,” she said.

“I think you should sleep down here, Bwake,” Joje said, his eye blinking, mouth twitching. “As much as I’d enjoy watching you sleep together, I can’t accept a lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Right now, I trust your son a lot more than I trust you. If he says you sleep on the couch, that’s where you sleep. I’ll stay here with you. Dwew will watch over Jenna.”

“I am not sleeping in the same room as him!” Jenna spit the last word out like it carried poison.

Joje was smiling now. “Of course you are. And I know we didn’t discuss this earlier, but we will be restraining you at night. For security reasons. I’m sure you understand.”

Jenna looked at Blake, eyes pleading. “Don’t let them do this.”

“I’m drawing the line here,” Blake said. “We stay together at night. Adam too.”

“Your call, but if you break a rule, I break a rule,” Joje said.

Drew continued up the stairs toward Jenna, who fell back, bumping into the railing. She began crawling up the stairs backward. “Stay away from me! You stay away!”

“You can’t do this!” Blake said, moving toward the stairs.

“Drew?” Joje said.

Drew turned back around on the stairs, a sentinel standing guard. He was as big as any bouncer Blake had seen.

Blake paused on the bottom step. “If you touch her—”

“No one will touch anyone. You have it all wrong,” Joje said.

“Just here to observe,” Drew said, a complete lack of emotion on his face.

“He’ll be in the same room as her, that’s all. Watching,” Joje said. “Adam, you’ll be restrained but on your own tonight. Most nights, I imagine.”

Adam nodded as if this made perfect sense.

“Why don’t you bring your dad’s toiletries down so we can avoid another outburst,” Joje said.

Adam scampered up the stairs, giving Drew a wide berth.

Jenna’s eyes burned down at Blake, and it wasn’t from the alcohol.

Joje smiled. “Have a good night.”

Adam lay atop his mattress set against the bed railings that had yet to be put together. His jaw ached from the grin on his face. His arm was bent backward, handcuffed to a bedpost, a bedpost as portable as a hockey stick.

What an idiot,
Adam thought.

When Drew had pulled the handcuffs from their duffle bag, Adam hadn’t complained or put up a fight. Instead he posed a question.

Where do you want me.

With no bed put together and his room looking like the aftermath of a garage sale, Drew had put the question back on Adam.

Just like Adam knew he would.

After cuffing him, Drew asked why his room was the only one not set up. Adam’s reply had been planned, as had the response it garnered from the giant albino.

To piss off my dad.

Drew’s smirk revealed everything Adam had hoped for. Make him think they were coconspirators, on the same side. Hell, maybe they were.

It had been a relief to discover Drew would be the one watching his mom and him. Joje scared him. Not because of the kidnapping; Adam was actually looking forward to the “pwoject”—it would at least make for an interesting end to his summer. Adam simply couldn’t read Joje, not like he could other people, and that was more frightening than any amount of threats or hints of violence.

Adam had a gift, a way to know what someone would do before they did it, to predict their reactions, foresee their behavior, and he used it to get the results he desired. With teachers, friends, lately with girls, and especially with his parents. It was why he had been so upset about the move; his parents would never understand. He had followers back home.

Followers
.

Like a
prophet
. And they obeyed Adam’s command.

It was intoxicating, this power, and while he knew he could regroup and start over, “make new friends” as his father put it, he missed that feeling now. Of watching someone come to a decision they thought was their own, never realizing Adam had fit his arm up their ass, their head nodding when he moved up and down, mouth opening at the split of his thumb and forefinger, words repeating what he whispered in their ear.

He hadn’t been born with his gift; it had been hard earned, though he didn’t like thinking about that.

He knew he was gifted, because he had never been caught. No one realized how he turned the conversation or how they forgot what they had initially come to him about. His response or lack of response always elicited the results he wanted.

People were so stupid.

But Joje, he was something else. It was like he could see through Adam, see what he was really after. Like when Adam set up his dad to take the fall, pretending to just want to follow the rules—Joje knew what he had been doing.

Pulling the I-don’t-want-anyone-to-get-hurt card, Joje had called his bluff. Straight out.

“You sure?” he had asked.

It had taken Adam so off guard he hadn’t known how to respond. Luckily his father hadn’t caught on.

But while Joje was something of a mystery, Drew could have been hypnotized by a kindergartener. Before Drew had left his room, Adam had shared with him a little secret—since after all, they were coconspirators.

“She sleeps naked. Don’t tell her I told you.”

If a fire had burned behind Drew’s eyes, it would have been stoked to blazing.

And with that, Adam had him. It was a lie, of course, but one he’d never be caught for. He only wished he could be in the room when Drew demanded she sleep in the nude.

Jenna always walked around her room naked; Adam had plenty of recordings, though he kept them well hidden. This would be something completely different, however, and her looks, instead of helping to talk her way out of a situation, would only make things worse. If only he could have caught it on film.

Jenna relied far too much on the looks she got from other men, at the gym, at Starbucks, anywhere her fake boobs and tanned pelican legs would take her. Adam still remembered the teacher-parent conference four years ago with Mr. Morrison.

No wife of mine will ever get away with that kind of behavior
, he thought.

He smiled, chained up in his room, yet, for the first time since they had arrived in this awful new house, feeling so free.

This would be a fun seven days.

Blake walked up to the mirrored glass doors of his office building, hoping the reflection of his shaking hands was just a warp in the glass. “Fake it till you make it” wasn’t supposed to apply to someone his age or at his level. His plan, however, was as thin as the line he was walking with Joje. One misstep and there would be no going back.

On the drive up, Blake couldn’t count the number of times he had contemplated finding a nice piece of wall to ram his M6 into. Maybe the center divider at an angle that would propel Joje up and over, straight into oncoming traffic, or a quick plunge off the rise of a cliff into unforgiving waves.

Unfortunately, he knew where that would lead his family, a death not nearly as quick as a watery grave.

One long breath to clear his mind and turn that interior switch to the on position. He’d only have one chance. It was all he would need.

Blake entered the building.

He did not hold the door for Joje.

The front receptionist, Cyndi, with the
Y
and
I
reversed in a failed attempt at chic originality, greeted them coolly. Thin to the point of anorexic, her beady eyes bored into Blake as if she held some personal grudge against him.

She gave a light toss of her head, her too-blond hair barely acknowledging the movement. Blake had met her once before and hadn’t cared for her then either.

“Could you let Jim know I need to see him?” Blake asked as he continued past.

“Actually, Mr. Crochet”—she leaned over her massive glass desk to call after him—“Mr. Crochet?”

Blake stopped. Joje stood behind him, looking completely out of place. This wasn’t going to work.

“Who is this?” Cyndi asked.

“
He
, not
this
. And in the future, take care how you refer to a potential partner,” Blake said.

Joje smiled, once again not helping the situation.

“Mr. Tanner actually suggested, should I see you come in today,” she paused, denoting the apparent question that had been, “that I have you wait in the lobby for him.”

Blake stared down at Cyndi. This twenty-something secretary who thought being a bitch was part of the job requirement, stringy bleached hair cut to look like a mannequin, stunning dress revealing all leg but covering everything up top—not that there was much to showcase. He was certain she had to show her tiny tits three times a day to some minor executive just to stay employed.