Lulling the Kidnapper Read online

  He leaned down for a kiss and I rose on tiptoes to meet it. I had to force myself to soften my lips for him. Ugh, it was just easier to give in, rather than to deal with the consequences of fighting him.

  I waited until he broke the kiss and then I drifted away from him to stand by the wall of windows. I’d seen no evidence of a basement, and doubted the existence of one so close to the water’s edge. Which left me to wonder, where would he tie me up and keep me, if and when he decided that I needed punishing? It had been about three months since I’d tripped up and said or done something to make him doubt my acceptance of him, of us.

  I had managed to get it through my thick, teenage skull that there was a fine line upon which to balance between what would allow me to keep my inner self protected from him and yet would still be considered obedient enough to get along. I still teetered from time to time, but I had gotten the hang of it.

  Four times I thought about the consequences of the question I wanted to ask before I decided to ask it. There was a part of me that had begun to wonder if I could trust what he had been telling me all along. He’d told me that I could slowly gain little snippets of freedom, if only I’d behave myself. And I had been ‘behaving myself’ for a while now by playing into the ruse he had built up in his own head. “Can I walk out onto the deck and look at the water?”

  He pinned me with his gaze, his eyes taking on a hard glint. “No.”

  I nodded with easy acceptance, letting him know that I wouldn’t challenge his decision. I had known that would be his answer, but still, I had wanted to lay the idea in his mind. I turned back to the windows and continued to stare out. “The lights across the river are pretty.”

  He blew out a breath that he had apparently been holding. “Yes, they are. I must admit, it is nice to have a view.”

  “The sun is behind us, right?”

  “Yes,” he answered with a slight hint of suspicion.

  “Oooh, then we’ll be able to see the sunset over the river every evening.” I beamed him a smile.

  There, I’d laid the idea of letting me go out onto the porch in his mind, accepted his denial without question, and didn’t let it waver my enthusiasm over a simple pleasure. I’d also further implanted the idea into his head that I had become eager to please him, and was easily pleased by him, over the last few months.

  I was done giving him excuses to continue to deny me his trust. I had tried to handle the situation my way, but that hadn’t accomplished anything but gaining pain and scars for me. I was now on to trying things his way, hoping that eventually I could make it all blow up in his face. Deception had become the name of my game.

  I could feel him watching me from the corner of his eye as we stood in companionable silence. He was thinking about something, plotting his next move with me. Maybe he was pissed that I’d try to jump the gun on being given the luxury of fresh air. I fought the urge to hold my breath while I waited with dread. I held my expression steady and just continued to look out at the awakening river.

  “Hmm,” he said as he left my side to go push a code into the alarm panel next to the main door. He crossed back into the great room and opened the sliding glass door. “Come on, I’ll escort you outside.”

  Genuine surprise lit my face. “Really?”

  “I said before that moving here would be a clean beginning between us. Your request was reasonable. Forgive me for taking a moment before I remembered my manners.”

  Clean beginning, my ass. Not a new beginning or a clean slate, oh, no. He was never one to use a cliché. According to him, words had specific meanings and were to be chosen with care. ‘Overused phrases lost their genuine intent.’ Whatever.

  He actually had the audacity to think that by moving me to a new house, and calling it a clean beginning, that he could erase everything he’d done to me. He believed that we had turned a corner and that I was no longer upset that he’d snatched me away from my life. Ugh, Asshole!

  I kept the surprised look on my face and stepped outside.

  “I was taken by surprise that you would ask a favor so soon after our arrival,” he said as I passed by him.

  I recognized that comment for what it was. It had been a veiled threat to not ask for too much, too soon. “I’m sorry,” I said, feigning immediate contriteness. “I’m just overeager I suppose. The house is gorgeous, as is the setting. I forgot myself for a moment.”

  “It’s all right, this once. I’m glad to see you so joyful. It’s a beautiful expression to see on your face.”

  I smiled. Months ago I would have made some sort of biting retort to his comments, resulting in him slapping me across my beautiful face. I used to be such a sassy girl, with plenty of attitude for those who tried to hurt me… and he thinks he’s successfully reformed me. Believe me when I tell you, he hasn’t. All he taught me was how to bury it.

  I turned my attention back to the river and leaned forward, against the porch railing. The sun was fully up by now, and there wasn’t any boat traffic yet. It was so quiet. I closed my eyes, breathing in the fresh air. “Mmm, the lapping of the water has always been so calming to me.”

  “How do you know about the sound of lapping water?” he asked casually.

  Shit! Thank God I was facing the river, because I know my expression faltered. I’d just slipped up and revealed something more about my past. I’d worked so hard to keep some memories safe from his malicious mind, and here I’d gone and relaxed for one brief second.

  And in that second, my mind had flashed to lazy summer days spent at my grandparent’s summer home. It was just a small trailer, but it had been in a marina, and right on the water. Its porch ended just five feet from the shore. Swimming, boating, and fishing, weekends spent with parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. These were memories I refused to share with him. He took every memory, that I was idiotic enough to tell him about, and attempted to twist it around. He put forth a never-ending effort to convince me that I’d lived a miserable existence before he’d entered my life and rescued me. Double shit.

  I covered by shrugging with indifference and mentioned that my family had once taken a vacation along the water. I decided that I’d better continue the fabrication and add some offhand details to make the lie more believable. “My parents fought and argued the entire trip. But I could go into my little bedroom, at the house they’d rented for the two weeks, and open the window. I could hear the waves as they lapped against the rocks. It was my only escape from their endless yelling and berating.”

  He smiled, no doubt pleased that the memory jogged loose had been an unpleasant one. “Well, there’s none of their yelling here for you to feel a need to flee from.”

  I let out a breath and smiled back at him. “I know, and I thank you for that. I still find the sound of the water enjoyable and calming, all the same.”

  “Perhaps I’ll have to allow you onto the porch more often. It might prove to be very therapeutic for you, let you release your past more fully.”

  “Hmm.” There’s no freaking way I’m ever going to release my past. No way that I’ll ever forget my mother’s smile or my father’s laugh. I was loved, damn it. I will never forget who I really am, or where I come from. And I’ll just keep making up lies and holding the truths in my heart. You will never succeed in convincing me of anything different, you asinine fool.

  He approached me from behind, encircling my waist and kissing my neck, as I continued to lean against the railing. I tilted my head to allow him better access, leaned back against him, and breathed out a relaxing sigh. As long as I closed my eyes and pretended to be somewhere else, I could manage not to groan in disgust.

  It occurred to me that, if anybody happened by on their boat and chanced to see us, we were painting a picture of a romantically content couple. It was just the kind of delusion he enjoyed and strove to convince me of. He was constantly conscious of appearances. The way he dressed and carried himself spoke volumes about that. Clean-cut, motivated, happy, intelligent, confident, relaxed
yet business-like, that is how he wished to portray himself in all things. And by default, it was how I was to present myself, also.

  “I love how the water tinges the smell of the air. The scent of it even changes with the weather.”

  He laughed, “Are you implying that breathing is more entertaining along the water?”

  I chuckled, “Yes, I do believe I am, because it’s more interesting.”

  Mission accomplished. I’d given another expression of gratitude and appreciation over this small indulgence. A gentle hint, a wistful comment here and there… If I sprinkled them over time, they just might lead to more freedoms later on as he grew to trust me more and more. If all his promises were for real, I’d get onboard with this ‘clean beginning’ nonsense, here and now.

  He’d always spoken as though he genuinely wanted to please me, to keep me happy and compliant. But only ever on his own terms, when he saw fit. He’d much rather have me pleased and willing, instead of sullen and resistant. However it would only work if I managed to make him feel as though he was the dominant and I the meek, in this twisted thing he called a relationship.

  Anyone who’d known me before the kidnapping would tell you that I didn’t have a meek bone in my body. And to be honest, it had taken me quite a while to find one. It had been hiding, well protected by many other bones filled with outspoken indignation.

  I leaned forward again, and he loosened his embrace to accommodate me. For the first time, I allowed myself to feel safe enough to look out at the river and take in our surroundings. To the right, upriver, I could see the ends of a couple other piers extending over the water, past the line of trees along the outwardly curving shoreline. They stuck out just enough to be seen from the edge of the porch, but no one standing on them would be close enough to see into the house. Not that it would have done any good, anyway. The windows were tinted so that no one would be able to easily see inside. The outside surface of the windows made a better mirror than anything else.

  I turned my attention down river. There was a bridge further down that crossed the expanse… …!!!… What the… I… Holy. Fuck… I know that bridge! …I know, I know that bridge.

  School your features. Breathe. Calm down. School your features.

  Asshole had felt me tense in reaction to my little revelation. He leaned forward and frowned against my ear. “What’s the matter?” he asked just above a whisper, his voice laced with a steel edge. No doubt the tone was to indicate that I better not have found anything wrong with what he had provided for me.

  Damn your freaking attentiveness. “The traffic. The noise echoing off the water is just enough that I’ll have to learn to tune it out.”

  “Ah.” He seemed content with my answer. “It was quieter earlier. The traffic must be picking up with the morning commute.”

  It was a convenient little cover, actually. It allowed him to feel as if I would prefer to be inside the house, in order to avoid having the traffic disrupt my pleasure. But my easy solution of blocking it out subtly implied that I’d also remain happy if he chose to allow me onto the porch again. If I acted as though I’d be happy no matter what his decision, then he couldn’t use one or the other as a weapon against me.

  Ha! I was getting good at making stuff up. Hey, Asshole, I got some oceanfront property I wanna sell you…

  My gaze was still on that bridge. I couldn’t place it, and I certainly couldn’t chance asking him what state we were in, let alone what river we were on, or what road crossed it. But what I was convinced of was that I’d seen this bridge before. It was conceivable that it merely reminded me of a different bridge… But something about it was gnawing at the edges of my subconscious.

  “It’s nice that you can’t see the bridge easily from the view inside. It’s almost like it’s not even there.” Good, now he really will believe that I’ll be content to stay inside.

  “I actually didn’t know about the bridge until we got here. They managed not to show it in any of the pictures of the house and grounds that I looked at.”

  “It’ll be good for you, though. We’re tucked away quite nicely here, but civilization is close enough that you can travel from place to place more efficiently to get to work and run errands.” And easier for me to find help, when I finally get the chance to break out of here.

  “It’ll mean less time away from you.” He gave me a small squeeze. “You won’t have to be by yourself so much.”

  “That will be lovely.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  “I know being by yourself drives you crazy.”

  Actually it doesn’t, being trapped drives me crazy. But I had to throw some reason at you when you caught me after I’d tried to escape the last house. You’re the imbecile who chose to latch on to that weak excuse because you want to believe that my little world revolves around you. My contrived excuse didn’t stop him from throwing my butt back into the basement and turning off the electricity down there. But it did help him to get over my betrayal and let me back upstairs, eventually.

  I had made myself sound like a bewildered young child, going on about how I’d missed him and just wanted somebody to talk to, that loneliness had driven me from the safety of his home. It had been my first purposeful foray into orchestrating lies and pretending to care about him. It had taken a while, but it had worked. And I sincerely believed it had saved my life.

  Time to reassure him, “I’d still rather be here all day than to have to deal with people making me nervous, again. Life is easier with the stress of everyone else’s expectations having been lifted from me. School, work, parents, friends, nothing I ever did was enough to please them. They always wanted more from me.

  “If I got straight As, then I wasn’t being challenged enough. If I took all advanced classes and ended up with a couple of Bs, then I wasn’t applying myself enough. I performed well at my job, so they wanted me to join the school’s work-release program. But if I joined that program, colleges might see me as trying to dodge taking classes. My friends were always disappointed in me because I didn’t have ample time to spend with them, but my parents complained that I was spending too much time away from home if I tried to hang out with them. No matter what I did, someone was always disappointed.

  “Since I’ve been with you, I’ve come to very much appreciate that there’s only one person I need to worry about pleasing. That realization came with utter, complete relief.”

  Actually, no one had ever felt the need to make me feel like an inadequate teenager. All that had been expected of me was that I go to school, get a part-time job, and stay out of trouble.

  My response to such reasonable expectations was that I didn’t drink, smoke, or do drugs. I’d managed to not get pregnant. My boss had nothing but good things to say about me. My teachers spoke praises at conferences. I was a college-bound kid who upheld all of my responsibilities.

  My parents had been beyond pleased with me, to the point that I’d once overheard my parents having a discussion in the kitchen as they spoke about how lucky they thought they were to get such an easy teenager to raise.

  But my twisted take on my previous life had made his eyes light up, and the smile he gave me was radiant.

  Damn. If I ever got out of this mess, I should move to Hollywood and become an actress. If his expression was any proof as to how well I’ve learned to act, I’d earn an Oscar my first year out.

  “Actually,” he said, turning sheepish, “about school…”

  “Yes?”

  “That area above the stairs, overlooking the great room, is for you.”

  I let my astonishment show. “For me? To do what?”

  “Up on those bookshelves is a curriculum I bought. As much as you feel relieved to be away from the pressures of school, I would like for you to finish your high school education.”

  “So I would be completing it through homeschooling?”

  “…In a manner of speaking, yes. You won’t obtain a diploma through it, but as you complete the assignments I’ll chec
k them for mastery. Perhaps, some day, we can schedule a time for you to take the tests for your GED.”

  Whoa, hold the phone. Moron here had stolen me halfway through my junior year, was currently robbing me of my senior year, and now has decided that he values my education after all?

  I let him see my confusion. “Not that I object, but why?”

  “A person should endeavor to educate themselves, no matter what purpose they choose to serve with their life.”

  I played further into my lie and put my head down as though I felt dejected, “I haven’t been pleasing you, either. I’m not enough for you.”

  He bought it.

  His hand lifted my chin, “Oh, no, Mia, you misunderstand. You’ve been pleasing me immensely. You’ve proven yourself very capable in everything you do. It’s no secret that I respect education, I only wish to correct the fact that I disrupted you in obtaining yours. Take your time with it, if it pleases you. Move at whatever pace is comfortable for you. But, please, go through the courses and learn the material.”

  I nodded, yielding to his wishes - not that his ‘please’ had made it optional. The little bastard was actually solving a future problem for me. As the weeks had turned into months, and the months passed the one year mark, I’d begun to wonder how I would handle the whole education issue, once I got away from him. I didn’t really relish the idea of returning to my high school and trying to pick up from where I’d left off, with kids that had once been a year or two behind me. After everything I’d been through, there was no way I’d fit in with their naive and innocent views on life. But I was also sure that I was getting rusty. I was convinced that I no longer stood a chance at passing the tests for my GED if you put them in front of me today. So, yeah, I’d gladly put effort into working my way through the curriculum.