by H K Christie
She forced her lips to curl up words. “Thank you, good morning to you too. It looks beautiful outside. Maybe later we can go for a walk.”
Zeek set the coffee on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. He bent down and kissed her. She kissed him back with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. What once made her quiver with desire now made her stomach revolt.
He sat back. “You seem tense. Are you not enjoying our role-playing? You know, all couples role-play, that’s how they keep the passion alive. I wanna see you smile. Smile for me.”
She smiled a toothy grin. She was convinced he knew it was forced, adding to his pleasure. “I’m having fun, but I’m thinking maybe, it would be even more fun if we could dance together or make breakfast together or something. You know, other than just laying in this old bed.” She tried to add a chipper tone to her voice. “Also, I’m really starting to stink. Wouldn’t you enjoy a more fresh-scented Selena?”
He hunched over her and sniffed her neck and then continued sniffing down her naked body until he reached her center. He looked up and said, “You are a bit ripe.”
She wondered how he could possibly be turned on by this. She hadn’t showered in three days and was using a mixing bowl as a toilet.
He sat up. “Let me think about this. I would hate for you to stop playing with me.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart. I love you. I’d never leave you. You’re the love of my life. I can’t wait for the day we can get married and have a family.”
“Let me think.” He looked her up and down and then briskly exited the room.
She wondered what he had in mind. Surely it wasn’t something like, just kidding, game’s over, you’re free now. Whatever he came back with would be terrible, but she wasn’t sure it could be worse than being tied to the fucking bed.
She looked around the room for possible weapons. There was a lamp on each nightstand. A chair. Not much else.
When they had first arrived, he gave her a tour of the house. It had three bedrooms, a living room, a den with a flat-screen TV and comfy sofas, and a decent-sized kitchen. When she saw it, all her fears had slipped away. She thought maybe he really was taking her away for a romantic getaway to make up for restraining her the night before. Even with being tied to their bed back at the apartment, she never would’ve imagined this.
The kitchen seemed well-stocked. If she could get to the kitchen she could find a weapon. He was bigger and he was clever, but she’d survived too much for her life to end this way.
He returned seemingly empty-handed. “Just so we’re clear, I’m in charge. It’s the rules of the game, okay?”
She nodded quickly. “Of course, you’re in charge.”
He approached the bed and pulled a black gun from the waistband of his pants and aimed it at her.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Oh God, he’s gonna kill me right now and there’s nothing I can do about it.
He moved closer and put the muzzle of the gun on the side of her head and proceeded to trace it down her cheek, her neck, her collarbone, and down the side of her body.
She thought she was going to throw up. He leaned over and kissed her belly button. Her body twitched, rejecting his touch.
He glared up at her. “Just another prop for our game to make sure everyone abides by the rules. I hope you follow the rules, I really do. I’m having way too much fun to end things now.”
He put the gun back in his waistband and began untying the restraints. She couldn’t quite reach the lamp. It was too big and bulky to use as a weapon anyways. Maybe when she was untied, she could run. A moving target was more difficult to shoot. But she was also naked, and it was snowing outside. If he didn’t kill her, the elements would. She couldn’t run. She’d have to fight him.
Removing the last of her ankle restraints. He said, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She was so stunned she didn’t respond.
He demanded. “C’mon. Up now.”
She flung her legs over the bed and used the mattress to steady herself. She hadn’t walked in three days and her legs were weak. She zombie walked into the small adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower. She stepped in and went to pull the curtain shut when he said, “No, no, I want to watch you.”
She forced a smile and tugged the curtain back. She lathered as he stared, gun in hand. She’d never been more terrified in her entire life, and she realized now that was really saying something.
She had succeeded in convincing him to untie her. It was a small win. Next, she had to get him to give her access to the kitchen. She’d get a hold of a knife or something sharp. She could then use the element of surprise. First, knee him in the balls and then stab him in the eye. Then grab his keys and take the car. Drive away. No stopping. Drive all the way back to the police station in Grapton Hill.
She turned off the water, grabbed the towel on the hook, and wrapped it around herself before stepping onto the bright green bathmat. “Can I put my clothes back on? It’s cold in here.”
“Sure. But I have something else for you to wear too.” From his pocket, he pulled a spool of fishing line. Not good news.
He knelt down, tucked the gun into the back of his jeans, and looped the fishing line around her ankle. Was this her opportunity to smash his face with her foot? Too risky. She had no follow-up weapon.
He tied it then walked back over to the bed and tied it to the bed frame. He smiled up at her. “Now you can walk around the house. We can dance and pretend like we’re married, spending our first Christmas together as husband and wife. You’d be making me breakfast as we talked about how many children to have. At least one boy and one girl. I can picture it now, my wife, in her rightful place: at home taking care of the kids and all my needs.”
She was definitely ready to kill this asshole.
“That sounds amazing. I look forward to that. One day after we’re done with school and—” Her agreeing to this fantasy life was stopped short by his howling laughter.
He said, “Babe, there’s no need for you to go to college. I’ll make the money, I’ll take care of all of us.”
“Oh wow, I hadn’t realized that’s what our marriage would be like. It sounds so … nice.” Nice, like, if you think it would be nice to spend your life with a psychotic husband and a few of his demented offspring. This guy, this product of the patriarchy, would not be the end of her. She was ready to fight. Fight to the death, if necessary. She said, “I’m starved. Are there groceries so I can cook us some breakfast? Maybe eggs and toast?” She really only knew how to cook eggs, fingers crossed that was what he had.
“Sure, let’s get you dressed. I have eggs, toast, bacon, and I even got you an apron.”
An apron, just what I’ve always wanted. Not. She dressed quickly to ensure he didn’t change his mind about letting her roam around. She forced a grin, happy to at least be clean and covered. “All set. Let’s make breakfast.”
She scooted out of the bedroom, down the hall, and then stepped into the L-shaped kitchen with an island in the center. She didn’t see a knife block on the counter. They must be in the drawer. Her nerves rattled as she replayed the plan in her head. Would she be able to pull it off? Only one way to find out.
She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs, a package of bacon, and the bread, butter, and milk. She set them on the counter and started humming “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga to calm her nerves.
She opened the drawer to look for utensils. There weren’t any knives, but there was a plethora of spoons and forks. She’d have to make do. A fork to the eye was probably as bad as a knife, right? She grabbed the fork and started whisking the eggs in a bowl similar to the one she had been using as a toilet. She felt bile rising in her throat.
Zeek approached her from behind, putting his hands on her waist, and started kissing her neck. If she weren’t being held hostage, it would’ve been kind of romantic, but since she was being held hostage - not so much. A homic
idal rage swirled inside her. It was now or never. She turned around and smiled, fork in hand. She kissed him and pushed him back up against the refrigerator to give herself more leverage to hit him as hard as she could.
He smiled sweetly at her as if he wasn’t a psychopath and said, “I love you.”
She smirked. “I love you too, babe.” And kneed him in the testicles as hard as she could. As he bent over in pain, grabbing his crotch, she rammed the fork toward his eye and missed. Shit. She tried again and again, but he batted her away. He went for his gun as she threw her clenched fists at him. The gun slid out of his pants and hit the tile floor with a crack. She scrambled after it. He tackled her and flipped her over. She lay on her back as he straddled her, gun pressed against her forehead. “You bitch!”
She squeezed her eyes shut and silently begged him not to kill her.
18
Detective Ed Gates
Ed slammed on the horn. Downtown Lake Tahoe was jam-packed with tourist who didn’t know how to drive worth a damn. They were too preoccupied with sipping their hot cocoa to pay attention to the road. No mind to the fact that a young girl could be in danger. Martina said, “Hey, getting into an accident won’t get us there any faster. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”
“I’m fine. You just hold your horses, buddy.”
Martina appeared to be worried about her future stepdaughter, but she also didn’t know the whole story. If she did, she’d be terrified. He hadn’t wanted to alert Selena’s father, Charlie, or Martina about the vibe he’d gotten off Zeek almost immediately. He knew enough predators in his day to suspect that Zeek was part of that fucked-up club. It was one of the reasons he’d insisted on keeping in contact with Selena. He didn’t trust that guy from day one.
Ed also hadn’t told Martina and Charlie that Selena had confessed that it was better for her to talk to him alone without Zeek around. He should’ve done more drive-bys. He should’ve checked up on her more. If this ended badly, it was on him.
He wasn’t thrilled to be traveling to a potential crime scene with a civilian, but considering Martina’s team had found the information on Zeek and his family’s property holdings quicker than the department had, he couldn’t exactly tell her no. Plus, if they did find Selena, he was pretty sure she’d be damn happy to see her dad.
Martina said, “We should come up with a plan for an organized approach. I already have a few guys coming in from the Bay Area as backup.”
Guys for backup? This woman was trying to take over his investigation. She had balls, that was for sure. Normally he’d be pissing all over his territory, but he wanted to find Selena alive. Preferably unharmed. He’d let Martina’s power trip slide for now. “Agreed. The local sheriff and PD have been notified that there may be a need for backup.”
Martina said, “The intelligence I received says the house is located down a private road, about a half mile from the main highway. I don’t want to notify him of our presence in the event she is being held against her will. We should park at the end of the road and hike up to the house so that he doesn’t hear us coming.”
Ed had to admit Martina appeared to know what she was doing. She was both a security consultant and a private investigator—not typical for anyone. Both were incredibly dangerous and tough jobs. Ed supposed he was lucky to have the backup, considering Renier had stayed behind due to a family emergency. But even if he had come along, Renier was three months from retirement and wasn’t what you’d call fit. Ed doubted his partner would have been able to hike in the best of conditions let alone off-trail during a snowfall. He would’ve been near useless in this situation. “Sounds like a plan. When will your guys be in position?”
Martina nodded. “I sent them a message when we were driving through Sacramento. They should be scattered in the surrounding areas, waiting for my signal.”
Was she ex-military? Special ops? Who was Martina Monroe?
Martina tapped on the passenger window. “That’s it. That’s the road. Pull over.”
He parked on the shoulder and he and Martina swiftly exited the car. Charlie had been sitting in the back. Silently, almost the entire ride.
Part of him still hoped they were walking into a teenage romance scenario and not what he feared most, which was that Selena was not there willingly. That she’d been taken.
Ed wondered if Zeek had gotten the idea that Selena didn’t trust him or was trying to get away from him. Why hadn’t Selena told Ed if she was trying to get away from Zeek? He could’ve helped and put her in touch with people who could protect her.
He popped the trunk and pulled out his flak jacket and slipped it on. Charlie and Martina joined him at the rear of the car. Martina and Ed quickly agreed on a plan of attack and hand signals.
Martina put her hand on Charlie’s arm. “Maybe you should wait here. Detective Gates and I are trained. I don’t want something to happen to you.”
He shook his head. “No. She’s my daughter. This is my fault. I should have tried to find her years ago. I should’ve never left. I’m gonna find her.”
Martina hugged him and then pulled back. “Fine. Follow close behind and don’t make a noise. Stay out of sight.”
Ed stared at Martina. “It’s go time.” He mimicked zipping his mouth shut, nodded, and set off to hike up the road.
He surveyed from left to right. The winding road was outlined by mature pine trees draped in freshly fallen snow. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted Martina heading into the forest with Charlie trailing behind.
Ed continued on for ten minutes before he spotted the roof of a moderately sized A frame log cabin. On the other side of the house he saw Martina and Charlie. Martina was clearly motioning to Charlie to stay back and she was snooping in the windows.
Ed creeped up on the other side of the cabin as quietly as possible. He shimmied along the side of the house until he reached one of the windows. A quick glance confirmed a bedroom with a queen bed, two nightstands, a chair, and … he froze. Was that rope on the bed? Shit. Fuck. He’d been right. She was in danger, if she was even still alive.
He crouched down and continued around the cabin. He reached the front corner and looked across to the other side, where Martina was squatting down. She signaled that she had a visual on two people and one had a gun. The look in Martina’s eyes told him everything.
19
Selena felt the pressure of the gun on her forehead. Tears flowed down her temples. It was time to make peace with her life. Everything she had done wrong. The things she had done right. Maybe she deserved this. Her thoughts shifted as the gun slid off her face and Zeek sat up straight. “What the fuck was that?”
Selena opened her eyes wide. He was distracted. He thought he heard something, but it was probably just a deer. This was either an opportunity to fight for her life or a potential suicide mission. She turned to her right to see where the fork had landed and glanced up at the window. She thought she saw movement. Was somebody out there? She looked back to Zeek, who was no longer paying attention to her. He probably figured, rightly so, that she wasn’t going anywhere with him pinned on top of her. She tried to reach for the fork but his eyes met hers. She would swear she saw Satan himself.
She pleaded, “Don’t do this, Zeek. Please. I love you. You know that I love you.”
He spat at her. “You’re a stupid, lying bitch, just like all the others. Now you can be with the rest of them. Spoiler alert, it’s not gonna turn out so great for you.” Zeek aimed the gun and she closed her eyes and prayed. Please God, if you’re there, please don’t let him kill me. I want to live. I want a life.
A loud crash and bang forced her eyes open. In an instant, Zeek slumped over with blood oozing from his chest. His gun fell to the tile. Selena frantically pushed him off as if he were the Ebola virus. She rolled over onto all fours and was shocked to see Detective Gates and a woman rushing toward her and Zeek. Detective Gates grabbed the gun and hunched over Zeek.
The woman helped her up of
f the floor. The woman stared down at the fishing wire on Selena’s ankle and then pulled out a knife from the leather pouch on her hip, flicked open the blade, and cut the wire before ushering Selena away from the kitchen.
The tall woman with dark, cropped hair studied her. “Selena, are you okay? Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “I’m okay.” Sort of.
The woman turned around and waved somebody over. Selena’s heart stopped. “Dad?”
Her dad wrapped his arms around her. “Selena. I’m so happy to see you. I love you so much. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I should’ve never left you. I’ve been trying to get my act together. I thought you’d hate me for leaving, so I stayed away. I’m so sorry.”
She’d never seen her father cry before. Into his neck, she said, “I love you too.”
Was this really happening? How had they found her? She wiped her face on her sleeve and stepped back. “I don’t hate you. I’m so happy to see you. How did you find me?”
Her dad wiped at the corners of his eyes. “I found out that your mother died only a few days ago. This is Martina. She’s my … She’s my fiancée, but she’s also a private investigator. She’s been working with the police to try to find you. Detective Gates explained to us the possible danger you were in. He said you didn’t show up for an appointment on Monday and you hadn’t gone to school. He couldn’t reach you by phone.”
Selena turned around to find Detective Gates approaching them. Beyond him, a pool of blood surrounded Zeek. She ran to Detective Gates and threw her arms around him and mumbled, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She didn’t know how long she clung to him before she stepped back and asked, “How did you know I was here?”
He grinned and she’d swear he had tears in his eyes. “It was a group effort. We’ve all been looking for you. You’ve met Martina? I’m not sure we would’ve found you in time if it wasn’t for her.”