by Lucy Wild
“I’m not looking for a relationship, Jack. I was just asking you to a jazz night.”
“Look-”
“Forget it,” she snapped, cutting me off. “Forget I asked.”
The queue seemed to take a long time to move, an ominous silence coming from behind me. It wasn’t my fault she had a crush on me. Well, maybe a bit of it was my fault. It was a fine balancing act between blending in and getting involved. There was no point getting involved. I had sown the seed that I might be moving soon, that was all I needed to do. If I abruptly vanished, no one would be too suspicious. They’d just think I’d moved away to a new job.
I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that, that I’d have to flit in the night without giving notice, without saying goodbye. But at least if I did, I’d sown the seed. That was what you had to do if you were like me, always prepping the ground, always working people, making them complicit in the lies, weaving them into the web of subterfuge. It was my way of staying safe, of staying free. I worked hard at what I did. Even after so long out of the loop, it was second nature.
That was why I let Sarah think I might be interested, that was why I let Simon talk to me in that ridiculous way. He’d called me a virgin once, said it in front of the entire office. They’d all laughed and I laughed too. If he only knew some of the things I’d done. It was why I was so relaxed when I got home and saw someone on Bella’s doorstep.
I had parked up on the street, the garage was still full of my unsorted boxes so I couldn’t use it yet. I was getting out of the car when I saw her knocking on Bella’s door. She was young, about the same age as Bella. Not as pretty though. The spark just wasn’t there.
“Excuse me,” she called out as I headed up the path to my door. “Hold on a second.”
“Can I help?” I asked, the friendliest smile I could manage fixed on my face.
“Have you seen Bella at all?” she asked, walking across to me.
“Bella? Sorry, I don’t know any Bella.”
She stopped when she reached me. “You’ve just moved in right? She’s next door. Number twenty-seven.”
“Oh, right, I see. Is she not in?”
“She’s supposed to be. We’re meant to be going out tonight.”
“Sorry, I’ve not seen anyone. Maybe she popped out.”
“Hmm, maybe.” No suspicion in her eyes but then why would there be? I blended. I fitted in. I was just the neighbour. “Listen, if you see her, would you mind telling her I’ll meet her at Parrot’s Bar?”
“Parrot’s. Sure. I’ll tell her.”
“Thanks.”
She turned away and walked away. I made sure not to linger, in case she turned back. It wouldn’t do to be seen watching her go. Instead I headed inside. I walked into the kitchen. I didn’t want to take long. She’d be waiting. I made her a sandwich, her favourite. I still remembered what her favourite was.
I walked through the house, thinking how different it was now I had her company. It looked the same as ever, there was no sign of another person anywhere. But I knew she was there, and that was what mattered. She was there with me, where she belonged. The loneliness I’d felt for so long was gone, vanished as if it had never been. I had a purpose again, to keep her safe, to keep her fed. I might even keep her clothed, if she was good.
I unlocked the cellar door and flicked on the light. She started screaming at once. Honey, I’m home, I thought as I headed down the steps, trying to ignore the throbbing in my cock as I stared at her squirming figure on the bed, fighting to free herself from her bonds. She looked sexy as hell and the best thing was, she was all mine.
FIVE
BELLA
The first thing he said to me was, “Cut that out.” The sound of his voice was enough to make me scream all the louder. He’d left me alone for God knows how long, then he expected me not to scream when he came back?
I’d been dragged out of the car and into a house hours earlier. I could tell I was inside, but where I was beyond that, I had no idea. I’d been in the car forever, the heat almost killing me. It was baking hot and the car drove and drove. By the time it finally stopped, my throat was so dry, I couldn’t scream, I could only wheeze and croak as the boot was opened and I was hoisted out.
I could hear little above my own gasping breath. There was a breeze and the wind hit my naked body, something about it told me it was night time. I tried to fight but my limbs were screaming from being thrown about in the boot for so long. I did my best but within a few seconds I heard a door slamming. The wind had died. I wasn’t outside any longer. Any hope I’d had of someone noticing me was gone.
I felt certain I was going to die. Another door opened as I began to sob, pathetic tears of impotent fury at the sheer unfairness of what was happening to me. I’d done nothing wrong. I didn’t deserve this. Worst was not getting to say goodbye. What if they never found my body? What if no one ever knew what had happened to me?
I felt the cold metal of something on my wrist. It had to be a knife. This was it. He was going to slit my wrist. He was going to stab me, he was going to do it. There was a flick of the knife and the plastic strap holding my hands together broke apart. I tried to lash out with my hand but he caught my wrist with ease, twisting something rough around it, some kind of rope. He forced my other hand down as I twisted and fought against him. I had strength I didn’t know I had, adrenaline coursing through me as I wrenched my arm upwards. With a grunt he grabbed it and yanked it down, almost pulling it from the socket as he got it tied within seconds.
I was laid on my front, the knife pressing into my ankles before I knew what was happening. He wasn’t going to kill me. He was going to do something else. Oh, fuck, I thought, realising I was being tied on my front. There could only be one reason for that.
But nothing happened. My limbs were bound, my face pressed into musty cotton, but that was it. He didn’t do it. I listened hard through my own laboured breathing. He was moving away. There was a creak of stairs and then a door closing. He’d gone.
I fought harder than I ever had to free myself, the ropes digging into my skin as I yanked at the bonds holding me in place. All I got for my troubles was scraped skin and bruises that were ache and throb more and more over the next few hours.
I don’t know how long I was alone for. All I know was that he came back at some point. In the darkness before that happened, I could do nothing but think.
When I was six years old, my aunt forgot to collect me from school. I was waiting with the teacher for her to arrive but she just didn’t appear. In the end I was taken back inside and told to sit quietly in the classroom. I sat for a while and waited, and waited. Eventually I got bored and started wandering. I noticed the stationery cupboard was open and decided to explore it. I had barely got inside when the door clicked shut behind me. I couldn’t get it open again. The feeling when I rattled the door, the certainty that I’d starve to death in there, never to be found, it hit me in the gut and terrified the living hell out of me. I curled up on the floor, amongst the highlighters and gluepots, feeling utterly lost.
The worst thing was when the light went out. Someone outside had switched them off, probably the caretaker. I went from terrified to beyond scared, the darkness so overwhelming in there.
That was how I felt, tied to that bed. Beyond scared. Back then, my aunt turned up, the teacher and her looked for me and found me in the end, my aunt wiping the snot from my face as I sobbed into her shoulder. No one was turning up to save me this time. All I had was the numbness of despair, the certainty that I was going to die, alone and apart from everyone I’d ever known.
So when he appeared again, opening the door and descending to the sound of my screams, even though I was terrified, a tiny part of me was grateful. I wasn’t alone anymore. It was ridiculous to even think that way but I did, even as my throat burned with dryness, my heart pounding in my chest, I felt gratitude that another human being was with me, even though it was him.
“Cut that out,” he sai
d, which made me scream all the louder. “I said cut that out.” He was closer, by my side. “You either stop screaming or there’ll be trouble.”
He was going to kill me. I was sure of it. It was the coldness of his voice that told me this was my last chance. I had to get free. I yanked at the bonds holding me in place and as I did so, his hand suddenly slapped down on my ass. I couldn’t believe it. I was in shock. The screams died on my lips. Had that just happened?
The pain in my ass told me it had. He had spanked me like I was an unruly child, not a woman fighting for her life. I fought all the harder and began to scream again and then he knelt on me, holding me in place, his hand falling on my ass so many times I lost count. A burning pain spread across my buttocks, not just physical but mental, the product of feeling utterly helpless, unable to get away from what he was doing to me.
In the end, my cries died away. I didn’t have any breath left in my lungs. My ass was in agony, as were the tops of my thighs. There wasn’t an inch of my buttocks that didn’t burn with pain. I sobbed into the bag as the weight on the back of my legs lifted.
“That’s better,” he said, his voice colder than ever. I started screaming again but his words cut me off. “If you keep quiet, I’ll take the bag off. Scream and I’ll spank you again. I can do this all day to an ass like yours.”
Was he not going to kill me? Was he just playing some sick game? I managed to hold my screams in, crying quietly instead, wishing the burning in my ass would fade, the stinging tingling of my nerves impossible to ignore, putting me more on edge than ever.
I felt his hand by my neck. Was he going to strangle me? He loosened the drawstring on the bag, tugging it up and off my head. My eyes burned with pain, the light too much to take at first. Twisting my head, I blinked until I could see clearly and then I saw him. It took a second to place that face and then I realised who it was. “I know you,” I said, unable to believe that I had been kidnapped by my new neighbour.
SIX
JACK
She shied away from me, shuffling up the bed as best she could in the bonds. “I know you,” she said, looking at me with such hatred, it was overwhelming. “You’re…”
“I’m your new neighbour,” I said. “Lovely to meet you again.”
“What are you going to do to me?” The fear was evident in her voice. It emanated from her in waves. She was terrified but angry at the same time, in a rage that would have cost me a few lacerations if her hands were so tightly bound in place.
She was still trying to move away from me. It was amusing to watch her efforts. “Don’t look so worried,” I said. “If I wanted to fuck you, I’d have done it by now.”
“Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone what I’ve done. Please.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t. I’ve got to keep you here. For a while at least. But don’t worry. If you behave, things will be fine. You’ll be fine.” My eyes went to her ass again. Would she be fine?
“I’m cold,” she said, shivering as she did so. “Please let me put some clothes on at least. I’m so cold.”
“In a minute. If you’re good. Now listen, Bella. If I undo your wrist, will you eat your sandwich like a good girl? Or do I have to feed you like a baby?”
She looked at me, not saying anything for a moment. “I’ll be good,” she said at last, speaking in a tone of voice that gave me an instant hard on.
“Good girl.”
I reached across and undid the rope holding her right wrist in place. I watched her like a hawk the entire time, ready to grab her arm if she tried to lash out at me.
She kept still, flexing her fingers as I moved back, leaving her to shake the rope away from her. “Here,” I said, sliding the plate across to her.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice pleading with me for an answer I couldn’t give.
Instead, I said, “To keep you safe.”
“You’ve kidnapped me to keep me safe?”
“Eat your sandwich.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You will be.”
“How long are you going to keep me here?”
“For a while. Eat.”
“No.”
I frowned. “You either eat it or I spank you again.”
She reached slowly towards the plate, her fingers resting on the edge of it. “You’ve poisoned it, haven’t you?”
“No, I haven’t. You might not be ready to hear this yet but I have no intention of killing you.”
“Then let me go.”
“I can’t. I have to keep you here.”
“But why?”
“I just do,” I said in a raised voice. “Now eat.”
She picked up a quarter of the sandwich, looking down at it. “How did you know?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
“How did I know what?”
“How did you know what type of sandwich I like?”
“A lucky guess.” She didn’t need to know that I’d made them for her before, a long time ago.
“Who the hell are you?”
“I told you. Jack Rutherford, your friendly neighbour.”
I watched her eat. She took tiny mouthfuls, pausing between each one as if waiting to see if her body reacted, if it really was poisoned. She had to twist her body to eat, still laid partially on her front. “Will you untie me at least?” she asked when half the sandwich was eaten.
“Eventually. If you’re good.”
There was a thud upstairs. I whipped my head in that direction.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Wait there,” I said, already on my feet and crossing to the stairs. “Make a sound and you’ll pay the price.”
I ran up the stairs, pulling open the door and slipping through it. I locked it behind me before pinpointing the thud as it came again. It was someone knocking on the front door. I listened. If Bella was screaming, the sound wasn’t audible up here. Maybe she was keeping quiet. I should have gagged her, I should have tied her back down but it was like a trust exercise. If she passed this test, she’d get a reward. Fail and she might not survive the night.
I opened the door. It was the girl who’d been asking after her. “Hi,” I said, putting on my best smile. “Can I help?”
“Yeah, hi,” she replied, looking worried. “I don’t know if you remember me. I was here earlier.”
“Sure I do. Parrots bar, right?”
“Right. Well, I just wondered if you’d seen Annabelle at all.”
“No, sorry. Is she still not home?”
“No, and she’s not answering her phone. It just keeps ringing.”
“Sorry, I can’t help. Maybe she left her phone at home?”
“Maybe. Look, would you mind taking my number and if you see her, give me a ring. I’m a bit worried about her.”
“Course I will.”
She handed me a slip of paper with her phone number scrawled across it.
“If you hear anything at all…”
“I’ll ring you. Sorry, what was your name again?”
“Claudia. And you are?”
“Jack. Jack Rutherford. I’ll keep an eye out for you.”
“Thanks.”
We were both silent for a moment, her glancing around her, me keeping the smile fixed on my face.
“I should go,” she said at last. “Anything at all.”
“I will,” I said, waving as she went. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s fine.”
I knew she was fine. She was waiting for me in the cellar. Once the front door was closed I tossed the slip of paper onto the side before looking out of the window, watching her walk over to her car. She looked at Bella’s house, phone clamped to her ear for a few seconds. Then she put her phone down and drove away slowly. Only when her car vanished round the corner did I relax. I headed to the cellar door. When I reached it, I unlocked it and pushed it open.
The door was barely open before Bella appeared out of nowhere
, crashing into my side, trying to shove her way past me, her mouth already open ready to scream.
SEVEN
BELLA
I waited until the door closed to do it. Once I heard the key turn in the lock, I picked up the plate and brought it down hard onto the wall next to me, not easy to do with my other three limbs still bound in place. The sound of it smashing felt so loud, I was sure he’d come back down, he must have heard it. But after a few seconds frozen in place, nothing happened and I started to move again. I picked up the longest shard and began sawing at the rope holding my other wrist in place.
At first nothing happened and I felt as if my chance at escape had gone. But as I muttered, “Come on, come on,” over and over again, a frond of the rope broke free, falling away and bringing a fresh spurt of energy to my work. I knew I had to be fast. He could be back at any moment.
I kept sawing, my arm aching from the effort. Gradually the strands of the rope began to fray, then snap. I don’t know how long it took but after effort so hard, my arm was nearly numb, I was able to wriggle my wrist out of what remained of the rope.
I turned my attention to legs. I had already begun to saw when I realised what an idiot I was. With both hands free, I could simply untie the knots, though this was harder than I thought as they had been tied so tightly. In the end, I used the tip of the plate shard to ease the knots loose enough to get my fingers in. Another minute and I was untied. I knew I had to get moving. Time was running out. I’d been lucky so far but it wouldn’t last.
I was up and off the bed in seconds, almost collapsing to the floor, my legs refusing to work after so long tied on one position. I had to massage them frantically to loosen up the muscles and I was still limping as I made my way over to the stairs. I climbed them as quietly as I could, stopping at the top, pressing my ear to the door and listening. I could barely hear anything but there was something. It was him. He was talking to someone. The sound was too faint for me to make out the words but when he stopped talking, I braced myself. He was coming back, I felt sure of it.