The Lonely (14 page)

"I
wanted to see if you were the mess the files said you were."

Files?
I glance up at him, confused. I smile, it’s a sickened bitter smile.
"Well?"

He
doesn’t move. He doesn’t talk. My back starts burning from the heat of the
fire. I take a deep inhale.

"I
have a second offer." His voice is honey sweet. I shiver, "No."

He
grins, "You don’t want to hear it?"

I
shake my head and clutch the robe. I'm feeling exhausted. The fire is relaxing
me.

"I'd
be willing to forgo the beating if you were nice to me."

I
gag. I shake my head.

"You'd
rather be beaten? Am I so repulsive?" I gag again. I swallow it down. The
stew was the worst meal yet and the fire is so relaxing.

I
can see his plan. Gross me out and make me feel sick but relax me into
submission with the fire. Unfortunately, it's working.

"You
would still rather have a beating, than have Stuart beaten?"

I
nod.

He
stands and puts a hand out, "Okay then."

I
look up at him. I don’t mean to turn it on, my eyes naturally do it. He shakes
his head, "Those long lashes and pretty blue eyes won't work on me. Come
here."

I
swallow and hesitate. "I'm not coming with you. You're going to beat me
either way."

He
nods, "I am. But it will be much easier if you just come willingly."

I
look into his icy-blue eyes for the truth.

I
push myself up and walk on shaky legs to him. I stand close to him. He jerks
his hand, insisting I take it.

I
lift my hand into the air and drop it into his. He closes his around mine
gently.

Terror
isn’t the right world. Paralyzing fright isn’t either. I don’t know that a word
exists to describe it. He pulls me along to the bed. He's gentle. My heels
start to dig in and his grip tightens.

"No.
No. No. No. No. No." I chant and pull back.

He
stops and looks at me like I'm a child, "It will be much worse if I have
to drag you."

I
sob. There are no tears. He pulls me along. He stops moving when he's along
side the huge bed.

He
pushes me down on it. "Remove the robe and scoot down to the bottom. Hang
your feet down the end."

I
stare at the floor. My body is convulsing in fear.

"What
is your name?" I whisper.

"Does
it matter?" He sounds dry.

I
nod once, "Yes. I need a name to hate you properly."

"Just
call me Eli." His name makes me twitch.

I
let the robe slip from my shoulders. I lie back and swallow hard again. The bed
is soft and luxurious. The black blankets are soft and velvety against my skin.

My
eyes feel like there is sand in them. I wish I could cry. I wiggle so my feet
hang off the end.

I
stare up into the canopy. It's dark like the bedding, so I pretend it's the
night sky when I feel his hands touching my feet. He moves them over my feet
and ankles softly, like he's letting me get used to his touch.

With
a soft jerk he pulls me down the end of the mattress.

His
shoes slap against the floor when he walks around the room. I don’t see his
hands near my face when he puts the blindfold over my eyes.

The
heat from his face and hands make goose bumps along my body. I grip the
bedding.

His
hands touch me again when he slides something down onto my legs. I can't move
them. My feet are forced to flex out the bottoms. Something is hooked around my
toes. I can't move the at all.

"I
don’t want to mar that skin. Not yet. I'm going to start the film now. Please
feel free to be extra loud. It's better for the footage." My stomach is in
agony. I'm desperately gripping the bed. I want to cry out before he's even
done anything.

"At
anytime you can ask me to stop. Stuart will be punished then."

I
bite my lip and wait for it.

He's
by my face again. I feel his fingers on my chin. He slides something into my
mouth. I spit it out.

"Unless
you want to bite your tongue I suggest you keep that in." I shake my head
but he forces it in again, "I will tie it on."

I
don’t spit it out. I moan and cry, shaking my head. The terror is everywhere.
The pain is going to be bad. I know it will. I've been punished before.

I
hear the wind rushing past the paddle before I feel the first strike. I scream
and bite down on the wooden piece in between my teeth. The shocking pain is
brutal and stings long after the paddle is gone.

I
hear the wind again and scream before he makes contact. The searing pain rocks
me.

Tears
shoot from my eyes. It's bitter sweet. My eyes stop hurting but the rest of my
body tenses. My legs are on fire. He's paddling the bottoms of my feet. He's
going to cripple me. I'll never run away again.

My
feet tingle.

I
don’t have any choice but to lie on my back on the hard concrete and keep them
in the air. Any contact sends me over the edge, but it's bittersweet somehow.

In
the dark I can hear my heart beating, my shaky inhale flowing from me, and a
dripping noise that at first drove me insane. Now I hear a beat to it. It's
musical and delightful to have company. I am less alone with the water.

The
door opens and the tray scrapes along the floor. I don’t look. As long as I
don’t hear the slapping of the shoes against the floor I'll be okay.

What
does it matter anyway? I saw the daylight, I sat at a fire, I've eaten and
drank and had a bath. I laugh and realize it's almost like being at the spa.

The
room takes my laugh and gives it back in an echo. It feels like there is
another person there. I stop laughing when I realize there is. There always
was. She has never left me yet.

My
laugh fades but the room still feels more alive for having been filled with it.

"Em."
I hear a whisper. I ignore it at first. It's no big deal. The dark has
whispered my name before.

"Em.
Did they hurt you?"

I
frown and look around the room. I feel vulnerable on my back now. I sit up and
wince when my feet touch the floor.

"Em.
Over here." The whispered voice is coming from the corner across from me.
It's so dark I can barely find direction.

"It's
me dude. Stu." His voice is less of a whisper. I roll onto my knees and
crawl across the room in the dark, with my feet dragging behind me.

"Where
are you?" I put a hand out and feel for him.

His
hand swipes across my knee in the darkness. It feels funny. I crawl back toward
him. His hand is sticking out through a hole in the wall near the floor. Like a
mouse hole.

The
touch of him isn’t disgusting. I don’t need the sanitizer. I need the warmth of
him. I lie on my belly by the hole, gripping him for dear life.

"Where's
your phone Em?" He whispers.

I
shake my head, "I put it down in a parking lot. Are you okay? Are you
badly hurt?"

He
squeezes harder, "They said they want your phone. They need to reach
him."

I
shake my head, "That doesn’t make any sense. The man with the faux
hawk-his name is Eli. Before he caught me, I texted for help. I think my text
went to Eli, like the guy holding us hostage is your boss. I sent it and then
heard it deliver at the same moment to his phone when he was chasing me. I
think your boss is Eli." I'm not sure I'm making sense. I'm also not sure
Stuart is really there. I've had this before. Daydreams in the dark.

He
sighs, "Well, frig. I don’t know then. Maybe he is the dude. Maybe faux
hawk is Uncle Daddy Weirdo. Eli seems like a weak name though. I always
imagined he was cooler than a douche in sunglasses, in the dark." His
voice is weak, but he forces a chuckle.

"I'm
sorry."

He
chuckles and coughs, "Em. What did you do that could possibly have made
this happen?"

My
stomach twists. I shake my head. The tears block my throat up again. Emalyn's
name pops up in my mind. I don’t know what it means. "I'm sorry you're
hurt."

He
laughs again, "I fight for a living. This ain't no thing. Trust me I got
this. I can take pain like it's nobody's business." His twang is thick. I
close my eyes and grip to his warmth for dear life.

We
are silent and have been gripping to each other for a long time, when the door
to his room opens.

In
the light the open door makes in the mouse hole, I see in his room for the
first time. Through the small hole, I see two men walk in and grab his feet.
They pull hard. I grip to him but his hand slips from mine in a jerk.
"I'll take it. I'll take the punishment. Don’t hurt him." I cry out.
Stuart's face is beaten and swollen. He shakes his head, "Take me."
His voice breaks.

I
slap the concrete, "Take me. Please, I'll do anything." Stuart looks
at me with severity, "Shut up, Em. I got this." He winks. I shake my
head, "I did this."

He
frowns and looks back at the men standing over him, "Ignore her."
They drop his feet and walk out. He jumps up and rushes at the door. His
screams fill the cell but I can barely hear him.

The
blood pounding in my head, from my racing heart, is blocking out the sounds, or
dulling them at least. I start to sob silently when the door to my cell is
opened. The men come in.

Stuart
reaches through and grabs for my hand. "EM! DON'T DO THIS!" His pleas
are desperate.

It's
the first time I've cried in fear since I was a small child. The tears blind
me. They rip from my eyes so hard and fast that they make it impossible to see
anything but the blurry light.

Hands
grab at me. They carry me, struggling, out into the white light. Their hands grip
and tug at me. I kick and fight but it's useless. I'm brought to a small room.
It's not nice like the other one was. It looks industrial, like a bathroom or a
kitchen but without anywhere to cook. There is a huge sink and table. I stand
there frozen. My feet burn but they've started to go numb. The pain of standing
is too intense.

I'm
shivering and freezing. I'm wearing the robe. It's not white anymore. It's
dirty and damaged, like me.

The
room is silent.

The
cold floor feels shocking against my hot feet.

The
lock turns in the door. I can't move. I can't step. My feet burn.

Eli
walks in. He looks the same. A silver dress shirt and black dress pants. His
shoes are matte black leather with very square tips. He crosses his thick arms
and smiles at me. His cocky shitty face is the one in my nightmares. It will be
there for the rest of my life.

He
leans against the closed door, watching me. He is huge. I feel like a child
compared to him in the small room.

He
runs his eyes over me, "I hear you chose to be punished, saving Stuart
again?"

I
swallow and watch his cold blue eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

He
shrugs, "I like to." He pushes off the wall and walks toward me.
"Don’t look so horrified. Everyone enjoys the feeling of making another person
feel something. Everyone."

I
shake my head in jerks as he circles me.

He
leans in to my neck, "Even you. You like the fact that I find you
attractive. You like having that power over me."

"You're
insane." I whisper.

He
laughs and leans in closer, his breath hits my neck, making shivers everywhere
else. "I think you like that about me." He runs his hand down the
front of my robe, tugging at it. I whimper and grab at the cloth, gripping it
together. He stands back, "I have several choices for you today."

He
walks over to the large industrial sink and turns the tap on.

"We
can do a little dunking in this sink."

I
shudder. I can't imagine the horrors that lie in the sink.

He
turns and smirks, "I can paddle your feet again. I am really hoping that’s
the choice you make." I cringe, but my brain is crying about the sink.

He
talks louder over the rushing water, "I can go get Stuart and put you back
in that comfy little cell." I shake my head on that one.

"No
to Stuart then? Okay. And last offer, you can be nice to me." He licks his
plump lips and lets a slight grin lift one side of his mouth, "Really
nice." His cold blue eyes land on my chest. I'm hyperventilating. The
sound of the sink is fogging up my brain.

I
lift my hand and point at the sink.

He
looks surprised, "The sink? Really. More appealing to put your face in my
cook's dish sink than to let me make love to you."