“This isn’t about the case. I want to make sure she’s okay. Come on, it’s just on the other side of campus. She’s gonna be family soon.” I say the last bit so he listens to me but it makes me feel sick to think of her that way.
“Fine. But don’t tell Sarge I drove.”
“If he finds out I’ll tell him I wrestled the keys away from you and forced you to come along.”
Simons grinned. “Like you’d ever be able to get the keys from me.”
He dangles them in the air and I reach for them. He yanks them back then swings them around his finger, laughing. If I didn’t love him like a brother, I’d be knocking him out right now.
We get in the car and he tromps on the gas. When we pull up in front of Allyson’s dorm, I sit and think for a moment about what I’m going to say to her. At the station, I had to be calm. I had to be professional. Now all I want to do is pull her into my arms, smooth her hair and hold her tight. I want to reassure her that everything will be okay. She has her mom and friends for that but I want her to know I’m on her side, too.
“I’ll wait here. Don’t be long.”
“Relax. Sarge isn’t going to find out.”
Simons kills the engine. I jog up the stairs to the building. Someone is leaving and I reach out a hand to catch the door before it closes and locks behind them, but when they see the uniform they hold the door for me. I smile my thanks and hurry up the stairs to Allyson’s room.
Will she be happy to see me? Angry? After what she said, would she ever want to see me again outside of family obligations?
I hesitate in front of her door. Maybe Simons is right and I should let someone else handle this. I should walk away and concentrate on my other cases right now. I can shadow Detective Jameson at the station and swipe the files if I have to so I can stay up to date on the case. If she doesn’t want to see me I don’t know how I’ll handle that.
I tell myself to get a grip. This is police business. If Allyson doesn’t want to see me, I’ll tell her I’m there in an official capacity and stay long enough to make sure she’s fine. No harm, no foul.
I knock tentatively on the door. At the lightest touch the door swings open. A horrible feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. A plant lies on the floor in front of her desk. My gaze sweeps across the room and settles on Allyson’s purse on the floor by her bed. I step into the room a little farther. Her coat still rests on a hook by the door. There’s a line in the carpet beneath my feet as though something had been dragged.
My heart pounds as I grab my radio. I should have made sure someone would be with her at all times. I thought her friend would have stayed with her while she was so upset.
Even as I curse myself I know it’s futile. It’s too late now. I would never have suspected Drew would take her by force. My cop instinct has let me down, but not anymore. I’m going to make sure Detective Jameson knows what’s happened and a proper man-hunt is started. This isn’t stupid college student revenge anymore.
This is an abduction.
I grab my radio and call it in. Before I’m finished giving the details to the dispatcher Simons arrives at the door.
“Fuck,” he says loudly, smacking his hand on the door.
“This shit ends now,” I roar. “Sarge can go fuck himself. I’m on this case whether he wants me there or not.”
16
ALLYSON
Consciousness slides over me slowly like the rising of the sun, except there is no light, only a growing awareness. My body seems behind my mind. I try to shift but nothing moves. When I find the strength to open my eyes I find that the room I’m in is dark. I squint into the blackness trying to make out shapes; anything to tell me where I am.
The last thing I remember is opening my door and then horrible pain, the feeling of falling but I don’t remember hitting the ground or how I got here.
The room smells odd; chemically and musty. Instead of the throbbing pain I expect, my head is woozy like I’ve had a few too many drinks, but I don’t remember drinking anything. My face feels strange, almost numb.
Even though I can’t see anything I know I’m not in my room anymore. It feels different. The air feels different. The smell alone sets off alarm bells and, like a huge tsunami-sized wave, panic begins to rise.
As sleep fades further, my current state dawns on me. I’m lying on my stomach, with the right side of my face pressed into a pillow. The pillow is damp under my cheek as though I’ve been drooling. Embarrassed, I yank my hand intending to wipe my mouth but my hand doesn’t move. Something’s encircling my wrist and it digs into my flesh as I pull harder. I pull on the other hand only to be met with the same resistance.
I’m somewhere, in the dark, lying on a lumpy bed with my hands tied to either side of me.
I can’t turn over.
I can’t get my bearings in the near perfect blackness. My heart races as I realize how helpless I am. Everything is spiraling out of control, as unknown danger presses in on me from pitch black corners.
I raise my head off the pillow slightly and blink several times, trying to clear the fuzziness in my eyes away. My neck is stiff and the room is still so dark I that can’t see the outline of any furniture or tell if anyone is there lurking in the shadows.
Desperate to get away from where ever I am and whoever has brought me here, I pull on my bindings again, hoping for a little give. It seems stupid to hope that they weren’t tied properly and I’ll be able to wrench my hands free, but that doesn’t stop me from trying. The rope digs in deeper, bruising my already damaged wrists and holding my hands firmly.
I try to pull my legs up at least so I can curl up into a ball for protection but my feet are tied to the end of the bed.
I try to open my mouth to scream but my jaw feels bruised too and the inside is dry as cotton. I still don’t have full use of my body but I scream on the inside, as my mind begins to play out horrible scenarios; unknown men lurking in the darkness, the terrible things they might do to me, the pain that might come with it all.
Tears well in my eyes making them even more blurry. I blink, not wanting anything to obstruct my vision in case I might be able to see a way out. I try to focus on something, anything. If I can just see something that might tell me where I am.
The gash on my head starts to throb now. The blissful numbness I encountered upon waking is gone. I might not know where I am but I know how I got here. Arms caught me when I fell, but whose arms?
As I move again, struggling to get comfortable, I realize that I still have my clothes on. It’s a relief but short lived. Just because whoever has kidnapped me hasn’t taken my clothes off, doesn’t mean they’re not intending to. They’ve tied me up in such a way that leaves me with no way to defend myself. I’m completely helpless.
I open my mouth to try to scream again and a chuckle from my left makes my blood run cold. It’s funny how the sounds that make up a person can affect you differently depending on how you feel about them. The laugh of a lover can turn into the snigger of a torturer with only a few days and incidents in between.
I struggle again knowing that the bindings won’t give way. Drew was always so good with knots.
“Do you like it?”
I turn my head in Drew’s direction wondering how he can see me if I can’t see him in this blackness. But maybe he didn’t know I was about to scream. Maybe he was finished watching me struggle in vain and wanted to take my terror up a notch. What the hell does he think he’s doing? I knew he was prepared to use blackmail but kidnapping? The silliness of my worry about the pictures slams home when I move my hands and the rope cuts even deeper into my wrists.
Blackmail, while humiliating, wouldn’t harm me physically. This, whatever his plans are for this, scares me more than the thought of the entire country seeing those pictures.
“Drew, what are you doing?”
“Giving you what you love,” he says and I can’t work out if his tone is mocking or if he’s trying to sound sexy. The idea that
he might think that this is all part of a silly game between us steals my voice. Could he actually be that deluded? Even though I’m terrified and trembling I know I have to try and seem calm. Drew feeds off fear.
“You have to let me go,” I say and manage those five words without my voice breaking or a tear slipping from my eye. In the eye of the storm, I feel a cold sense of control in me.
“I can’t do that Allyson. I did this all for you. You think you know what’s best for us, but how can you? You don’t want to be in control, you want me to decide for you. Don’t worry, baby. I know just the way you like it.”
A shiver of fear races through me. Although this isn’t the first time he’s tied me up, it’s the first time I have felt any fear. But now I’m so scared I feel like I can’t catch my breath. I struggle in vain against the bindings again hoping that in his haste to shackle me that he’s made a mistake. Maybe he forgot to pull a knot tight enough or has left me some room to slip my wrists out like he always did before. With each movement, though, the rope pulls tighter, digging into my wrists with a biting pain.
“No,” I shout. “I don’t want this.”
“Shhh,” he coos from somewhere closer to the bed. He’s moved and is now nearer and I strain against the bindings again because he’s going to touch me, I know it and I can’t stand it. I need to think of something to say, something that might convince him this is not his best option.
I doubt he ever loved me, so using that angle isn’t going to get me anywhere. He likes the control as much as I like feeling helpless. Under the right circumstances, that is. And these are so not the right circumstances or the right person.
“If you let me go I promise not to tell anyone. I’m not even angry about the pictures getting leaked.”
His humorless laugh raises goosebumps on my arms. “I know you went to the police. How could you do that after all we’ve been through together?”
“I didn’t tell them much. Not enough, I swear. Let me go and we can forget about all of this,” I say.
My eyes still haven’t grown accustomed to the dark and the earlier panic at being blind in a new room threatens to overwhelm me again. If I can’t see where he is, or what he’s doing, then I won’t be able to brace myself for whatever is coming next.
“You told them enough. They’re looking for me.”
“We’ll tell them it was a prank. That I knew all along you were going to release the photos and that I consented. I’ll sign a piece of paper now if you want.”
The scrape of his feet against the floor has me on alert again. I’m trying to work out exactly where he is as the air moves against my arm. He’s close, looming over me in the shadows but I can’t make out his features. The bed dips slightly when he sits on the edge and, even though I know it’s hopeless, I still try to squirm away.
The bindings hold me tightly.
He seems to shift further onto the bed until I can feel his body touching my hip.
“I need to remind you how good we are together,” he says.
He sounds sane with a hint of insanity floating just below the surface. “We had some good times, didn’t we?” He doesn’t wait for me to reply before he carries on his musing. “I know we’ve had our ups and downs, but all relationships do. I know you’re scared but we can make it work.”
I shiver, realizing that he is totally deluded. He actually thinks that we can get back together after all this. He obviously has no idea how serious a situation he has created. Had I known months ago that he would become obsessed with me, I never would have gone out with him.
I shudder at the memory of Drew touching me now. How could I have let him do those things to me? The thought that all this is my fault rushes through my mind again. My fault for liking to feel helpless, my fault for liking the surrender when he tied me up and took my body again and again. My fault for encouraging him.
“I remember,” I say. “Really, I do. But you need to let me go. This isn’t okay, Drew. I’m not okay.”
“Once I show you how good I can make you feel, remind you how good we are together, you’ll withdraw your statement from the police.”
“I already told you I would,” I shout in a rush. His hand clasps over my mouth and he keeps talking as though he hasn’t heard anything I said. In a way, it’s as though I’m not really there. He’s in his own little world where he’s talking to the other me. The Allyson that cared about him, the Allyson who liked him to do this to her.
He can’t see that things have changed or that the nature of the relationship will never be the same. He thinks if he wills it enough, he’ll get his own way. Drew needs to prove a point, he needs to be in control again. All of this is him being in denial.
“Drew, you can’t do this. I’m saying no. You have to stop. Let me go.”
“How can I let you go when we’re meant to be together? Who else will give you what you need?”
He rubs a hand up my thigh and I whimper. Not in pleasure as he hopes but in desperate fear.
“Don’t worry. I know you. I know exactly what you want.”
“I want to be untied,” I say forcefully, louder than I’ve ever spoken to him before, hoping it will pull him back to reality.
“That’s not really what you want. I know what you like and being untied isn’t it. I’ll give you all the things you need, Allyson. Everything you crave. The powerlessness, the fear, the surrender. I’m going to give you all of those things. And then you’re going to come back to me.”
17
CORY
CCTV footage from campus plays across a monitor at the police station. After examining Allyson’s room, Simons and I requisitioned the footage from the security office. The longer it took for them to hand it over the more anger simmered inside me.
Anger at myself.
I should have been the one to drive her back to the dorm. I would have stayed with her as long as she let me. If I’d been involved from the start like I wanted maybe Allyson wouldn’t be missing.
Anger at my superiors for preventing me from doing what I knew in my heart was right.
Despite my sergeant’s insistence that I’m too close to the case I now sit with Detective Jameson going through the CCTV footage. I pause, fast forward, rewind and pause again. I know the security footage is going to give us the clue we need to find Allyson, just like I know without a doubt that Drew took her. My hatred for the guy threatens to take over but I push down my anger so I can concentrate on what matters. Clues to what happened to Allyson.
Hours of footage later, fast forwarded to about the time Allyson returned to the dorm with Rachel, something snags my attention. I almost miss it because there’s nothing particularly out of the ordinary about it. I watch as Rachel leaves the building, pausing at the bottom of the steps to look back to the lobby. A man wearing a cap hovers nearby with his head down, his back to Rachel. She pays him no attention as she walks from the lobby and down the sidewalk, back to a parking lot I assume.
The man walks past the lobby door and off camera. I keep watching the door not knowing how soon Allyson was taken after Rachel left.
Shortly after, a dark blue pickup truck pulls up in front of the dorm. That alone doesn’t put my instincts on alert but when the guy gets out of the truck wearing a thick dark coat and a cap that hides part of his face, I pay a lot more attention. The same guy from before but this time he walks up toward the doors. He pauses, looking at his phone until someone exits the building. Just before the door can close behind them he snakes out his hand to stop the lock from catching and ducks inside.
I swear under my breath. “That’s him. It’s got to be him.”
“A likely suspect, but let’s see what happens before we jump to conclusions,” Jameson says.
It wasn’t a huge jump. Suspicious behavior like that doesn’t lead to nothing. What possible reason could the guy have for loitering in front of Allyson’s dorm, waiting for Rachel to drive away? The guy would know Allyson was alone.
We continue
to watch the footage. A few minutes later the man exits the building, gets back in his truck and drives away. I slam my hands down on the desk in frustration. The sting of the impact barely registers. If that’s Drew, where the hell is Allyson? A twinge of uncertainty gnaws at the back of my brain. I’m not wrong about the guy’s identity but he’s not carrying an unconscious Allyson in his arms and loading her into the truck.
I’m missing something still. If there are no clues there we need a concrete lead. “Rewind it to just before he pulls away,” I say.
The operator nods, clicks the mouse and the footage reverses in quickly. He clicks the mouse again to play the footage. Both Detective Jameson and I lean in closer. I can’t read the license plate number. Instinct tells me running that plate will help. Instinct and maybe a little wishful thinking. I hate thinking about Allyson alone with Drew. What he’ll do to her. My hands fist at my sides, anger and impatience fusing into a dangerous combination.
“Can you get in closer? I need to read that plate.”
“I can try.”
“I need a better look at his face too. Can you get a clearer shot of it?”
The operator clicks a few more times with the mouse attempting to enhance the picture. The picture is a little larger, slightly pixelated but with more detail than we had before.
“That’s the best I can do on the plate,” he says.
Mud obscures some of the numbers, whether by normal driving on muddy roads or on purpose for nefarious means. I’m not sure but I have a pretty good idea. I jot down the numbers I can see hoping that they’ll be good enough to get a hit in the database.
“Try his face now,” I say.
The operator nods again and changes the zoom on the screen to focus on the man’s face. He zooms in too much making everything a blur of dark pixels interspersed with lighter colors. He zooms out a little bringing the face back into focus and a little larger than before but not too distorted.
I recognize the man immediately. He’s the guy from the party. The one that held Allyson’s wrist too tight. The one who sent all the pictures around.
HUGE X3: A MFMM Menage Stepbrother Romance Page 24