by Naomi Martin
I tense and draw in a sharp breath as footsteps approach from behind. My stomach is roiling and my heart is pounding like mad inside of me. The footsteps stop right behind me. I can’t see, but I can feel his presence looming over me. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. But I can hear him breathing, and I’m reminded of the phone calls I received that sounded a lot like this.
I take several long, deep breaths, doing my best to keep my panic at bay—trying to stave off my fear, trying to keep my wits about me. I’m going to need them now more than ever if I’m going to survive this.
“Wh-who are you?” I ask, my voice trembling as hard as my body. “Wh-where am I?”
The bag over my head is suddenly yanked off and I can see again. The ambient light in the room is gloomy and dim, with cobwebs of shadow clinging to the corners, thick and dark.
“The first time I saw you, I knew you were special.”
The voice is familiar but in my current state, I can’t place it. I’m trying to keep myself calm, though my nerves are jangling; the dark specter of panic reaches out with its icy tentacles, threatening to wrap me up and pull me under.
“I knew that I wanted you,” he goes on. “When I first saw you, I knew we could have a beautiful life together.”
I hear the scuff of a shoe on the floor and, from the corner of my eye, I see the man moving around behind me. I continue watching his feet as he moves around me, and when he’s standing directly in front of me, I raise my head and look up at him. My blood runs ice cold and when I open my mouth to speak—or maybe to scream—I find that it’s dry and feels as though it’s been stuffed with cotton.
The tall, gangly man stares down at me with the same sort of smile a kid gets on Christmas morning after unwrapping his favorite toy. I work my mouth, trying to come up with a little saliva as I stare at James Markham—the talent scout who thought I “had what it took” to make it as an actor.
“It’s you.” I finally manage to say, my voice thick and harsh.
He gives me a flourish and a bow. “Live and in the flesh.”
“Where are we?”
“My cabin in the woods.”
“Why have you brought me here?”
He gives me a patient smile. “So we can begin our life together, of course. I mean, this is a starting point. We’ll be moving on soon to our new home.”
I shake my head, trying to clear out some of the cobwebs. I know I’m still kind of out of it, but none of this making any sense to me. This man was going to get my name out there. He was going to try to help me get my foot in the door in the industry.
“Wh-what are you talking about?” I ask.
He gives me a sly smile. “It’s okay, Tatum. We’re safe now. You don’t have to pretend anymore. We can be together. Free and clear.”
I stare at him for a long moment, trying to form some sort of coherent reply. But to do that, I’d have to understand what point he’s trying to make. And I don’t. I don’t understand a damn word coming out of his mouth.
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, James.”
He chuckles softly. “I knew you wanted to be with me. For us to be together,” he says. “I saw it in your eyes that day at the mall. When you were delivering that monologue, I heard your passion and knew you were speaking from the heart—and that you were speaking to me. I knew, Tatum.”
Oh my God, the man is mad. He is absolutely bugshit crazy. I knew there was something off about him the day I met him, but I didn’t suspect it was insanity like this—that he was this insane. He actually thought that monologue I performed was directed at him, instead of me just reciting scripted lines.
“Tatum, I fell in love with you that day. And I could tell that you loved me, too,” he says. “I heard it in the words you spoke.”
“James, those were lines. Scripted lines,” I argue. “You made me read them.”
He smiles. “I think we both know that’s not exactly true. That you put a little more into your performance than—”
“No, James. I don’t know—”
“I knew you wanted to be with me. That you wanted us to be together,” he cuts me off. “But I knew you were scared—that you had a lot of entanglements. I knew you wanted me to get you out of there. So I did. I found a way to make it happen for us.”
The fear flowing through me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m too scared to shake, to cry, to do… anything. All I seem able to do is sit here, staring at the man who’s holding me captive, listening to his insane rambling.
He reaches out and caresses my cheek with his fingertips, sending a shudder of pure revulsion through me. I recoil from his touch and his face darkens.
“You know, you could show me a little appreciation,” he snaps. “I put in a lot of effort into getting you out of there. I risked everything. For you.”
“I didn’t ask you to. I did not—”
His backhand is so swift and sudden, I never even see it coming until it’s too late. The crack of his hand meeting my face is loud and it rocks my head to the side. I taste blood in my mouth and the tears well in my eyes before I can stop them. James pulls back and looks down at me, his face still twisted with rage.
“I’m sorry I had to do that. But you can’t say things like that,” he tells me. “I’ve done all of this for you.”
I open my mouth to argue with him but close it again, not wanting another backhanded slap. I pull against my bindings, but they hold me tight. Tears, fat and warm, roll down my face and I cry out in frustration and fear.
“Please let me go.”
He looks at me with an expression of surprise. “Let you go? Why would I do that?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m giving you what you wanted, Tatum. I saw it in your eyes that day. You wanted to be with me. To build a new life, free from all of that shit you’re trying to get away from.”
I bite my tongue to keep from saying something I might regret. I need time to think. It’s more than clear that this man is out of his fucking mind, and if I’m going to survive this and get away, I’m going to need to use my brain.
After a couple moments of silence between us, he reaches out and wipes away my tears. It takes all of my self-control, but I manage to not recoil from his touch this time. Instead, I lean into it, trying to make it seem like I’m enjoying having his hands on me. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done and I’m fighting the greasy, nauseous feeling that’s welling up within me.
“I-I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You’re right. I was scared. But if you say we’re safe—that we’re free to be together now—then that makes me feel better.”
I look up and he’s smiling, a maniacal light in his eyes. He nods at me and slides his hand from my face down to my shoulder, then cups my breast, giving it a hard squeeze as he runs his tongue around his lips lasciviously. It’s disgusting and makes me want to puke.
“I’ve been thinking about this since the day I met you, Tatum,” he says. “I’ve thought about nothing other than being inside of you.”
He squeezes my breast again and I try to numb myself to it. Try to make myself think about something else other than James having his hands on me. Try to will myself to be strong and courageous—to do what I need to do to survive.
“James?”
“Yes, my love?”
“Are we really free to be together?” I ask. “Am I really free from my old life and able to build a new one with you?”
He smiles, and I see the excitement that paints his face. “Yes, Tatum. We’re free to be together.”
I nod. “Good. That’s good. I’m happy, James.”
“Yes. It is,” he says. “I knew you’d be happy I did this for you. I knew you’d see how much I love you—and how much you love me.”
“I’m ecstatic,” I tell him. “I’ve never been happier. But… I have to pee, James. Really bad. Can you cut these off me so I can use the bathroom?”
He hesitates, looking doubtful. As crazed and deluded as he is, ther
e’s still some sense of self-preservation kicking around inside of him. Something is whispering to him. Telling him he’s running a risk if he cuts me loose. But I can see that he also wants to believe me. Wants to trust me, to trust that I love him the way he thinks he loves me.
If I want to give myself a chance to escape and survive this whole thing, I need to make him believe this fantasy.
“If you let me use the bathroom and clean myself up a little bit, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” I make my tone sound as flirty and seductive as possible.
His smile is hopeful but wavering. I can tell he wants to believe me. More than that, he wants… me. I don’t doubt him when he says he’s thought about the things he wants to do to me. It’s well beyond creepy and turns my stomach to even think about, but I have to play a role. I have to play my part, and I have to play it convincingly. I swallow hard and give him a smile.
“Come on, James,” I purr. “I just want to freshen up and look pretty for you. And after that, I’ll give you a night you’ll never forget.”
His smile grows wide and salacious; his desire for me has clearly outweighed any misgivings he has. James reaches into his pocket and takes out a knife. He unfolds it and leans down, quickly slicing through my binds. I rub my wrists, trying to work some feeling back into them as he cuts my ankles free.
He helps me to my feet, and I slide my hand down his chest and give him a smile I hope looks more sensual than disgusted. He leans down to kiss me, but I turn away. James pulls back and his face darkens. I wave a finger at him, doing my best to keep that sultry smile on my face.
“Not yet, naughty boy. You have to wait until I get myself freshened up,” I tell him.
This seems to mollify him as he takes a step back and smiles. “You’re just teasing me now.”
I give him a flirty wink. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to teach you some patience. You know what they say—good things come to those who wait.”
He laughs and shakes his head. His eyes are sparkling and I can see the excitement in his face as he looks forward to what he thinks is going to happen—to what he’s fantasized about doing.
“Show me to the bathroom?” I ask.
“Yeah. Of course.”
He’s almost breathless with anticipation, his eye shining bright with it. James gestures toward the door and I take a halting step toward it, wondering if I should make a break for it. But then James is right behind me—apparently, his trust only goes so far. He puts a hand on my shoulder and gives me a gentle nudge toward the door. With him standing so close behind me, I won’t be able to sneak out of here. Not without getting caught.
As he walks me through the main room, I take a subtle glance around and see my purse sitting on the table. My phone should be in there and if I can just get to it, I can call for help. But getting to it presents a problem.
“Second door over there,” James says.
I go into the bathroom and turn around to close the door behind me. James puts his hand out and stops it. I give him a wide-eyed look of innocence.
“I can’t pee with the door open and you standing there,” I say. “Just give me a couple of minutes and we can start off our new life together the right way.”
He grins, practically dancing with excitement as he takes his hand away and lets me close the door. I lock it and step back, my mind spinning. If I could just get to my purse—but I can’t. I need a new plan.
I turn around quickly and pull the shower curtain aside, revealing a window set into the wall above the tub. I cut a quick glance at the door then back to the window. I turn on the sink full blast to cover the noise as I slide the window open.
“You almost done in there, Tatum?” James’ voice is muffled through the door.
“Yeah, almost,” I call back. “I’ll be out in a minute. Almost done.”
I step up on the side of the tub and start to haul myself up when I slip. My foot hits the bottom of the tub with a loud thump and I knock the shampoo bottles off the windowsill. They hit the bottom of the tub with a loud clatter and I know the game is up. My heart leaps into my throat when there’s a pounding on the door.
“Tatum, what’s going on in there?” His voice is clear and tinged with anger.
He bangs on the door again, harder this time. It rattles in its frame and a yelp of fear bursts from my throat.
“Tatum!”
I scramble to find purchase and finally manage to haul myself up. I get my stomach over the edge of the windowsill and am halfway through when I hear the door burst inward. It slams into the wall behind it with a thunderous crash and I scream. I wriggle and pull, trying to squeeze through the window.
A long, loud scream erupts from my throat when James’ hand falls on my ankle. He squeezes it tight and starts to pull me backward. I thrust my second foot back and connect with him. I hear James grunt and curse. A moment later, there’s a crash and shattering of glass, followed by his howls of outrage.
I double my effort and finally manage to launch myself out the window. My teeth clack together and pain radiates through my body when I hit the hard-packed earth below. I look up just in time to see James stick his head out the window, glaring darkly at me.
“Get back here, Tatum,” he roars. “This is not how it’s supposed to go. You are mine. Do you hear me? You’re mine, goddammit!”
I get to my feet and sprint off into the darkness. Despite the fact that he’s long and gangly, there’s no way he’s going to be able to squeeze through that window—which gives me a few minutes head start.
I plunge into the trees, running heedlessly through the dark. I hear James’ voice echoing through the forest, and it sounds like its coming at me from every direction at once. I scream as a root snags my foot and sends me sprawling face first to the ground. My head bangs against a rock and I see an explosion of light behind my eyes. I struggle to get to my feet and nearly collapse again. I’m lightheaded and feel blood, warm and viscous, running from my forehead down the side of my face.
I turn around in a circle, confused and disoriented, not knowing which way I came from or which way to go. I hear James, though. He’s screaming and howling, calling my name, his voice echoing through the woods around me. It sounds like he’s off to the right of me, heading deeper into the forest, so I turn and head off in the other direction.
I crash through the undergrowth, my breathing ragged and labored, dry twigs snapping beneath my feet.
“Tatum! Get back here!”
Still woozy and seeing small bursts of light dancing in my vision, I stumble my way forward, hands out in front of me, groping like a blind woman. I hear heavy footfalls pounding the ground somewhere behind me. He’s getting closer. I need to find someplace to hide.
Panic threatens to overwhelm me as I run. I weave around the trees, and I see lights—it’s the cabin. Maybe I can lock myself inside, or maybe I can hide under it. Something.
As I burst from the forest, I’m suddenly blinded by a flood of lights. I see the shadows and silhouettes of people—a lot of people—in front of me. I’m assaulted by the sound of voices and scream as they rush toward me. It’s then that I see the strobing red and blue lights of the police cars parked in front of James’ cabin.
I’m flooded with twin doses of fear and relief. I’m still confused by what’s happening and terrified of the man still coming after me, not quite comprehending what the people are shouting as they move toward me. Some of them stream past me, dashing into the forest.
But then three faces emerge from the darkness and the glare of the lights in front of me. My heart stutters and my legs give out. I fall to my knees, tears of relief flowing down my face. In the next moment, Ryan, Xavier, and Lucas are all gathered around me, helping me to my feet. Each of them takes a turn embracing me and they’re followed by Katie, who squeezes me tight.
I look at each one in turn, gripped by confusion and wondering if I’m seeing things. It’s as if I’m trapped in some sort of fear-fueled delusion.
“A-are you guys really here?” I ask.
“Yes, of course we are,” Katie beams. “You’re not imagining things.”
I shake my head. “B-but how?”
Ryan grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “When I got to your place, I found the door open and the mess in the kitchen.”
“The mess?” I ask.
He nods. “All of those pictures.”
“It was the headshot taken at the mall that told us who took you,” Katie adds.
“But how did you find me?”
Xavier smirks. “Idiot never dumped your phone. Katie’s dad was able to ping it.”
“There he is,” Lucas says.
As one, we turn and watch some of the deputies, including Xavier’s dad, leading James out of the woods, his hands cuffed behind his back and a scowl on his face. James looks over and glares at me, his face a mask of rage.
“Bitch,” he shouts. “Stupid little bitch. I love you! We were going to build a life together. Tell them!”
One of the deputies smacks James in the back of the head as the boys turn and walk toward the cuffed man, hurling insults at him. I’m half-afraid they’re going to go beat him to death—some small part of me hoping they do. Thankfully, they settle for insulting him as he’s led to the car, still screaming at me to tell them we’re in love. The deputies step forward and hold the boys back to keep things from getting out of hand. Katie takes my hand and hugs me again. Tears streak her face, but the look of relief on her face is palpable.
“I was so scared. I was so worried for you,” she whispers in my ear.
“Yeah, I was pretty terrified, too.”
She pulls back, her hands clasped on my arms and stares into my eyes. I look over to see the boys talking to Katie’s dad, Xavier’s dad, and some of the other deputies. The whole scene is a hive of activity as deputies stream in and out of the cabin. Katie looks at me again and smiles.