Protecting Abigail

by R. R. Banks

  I rush over to the fence and start to climb. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Trevor behind me. He is close, but he moves without urgency now. He knows I can't get away from him at this point, and he's enjoying watching me try. I scream out for help as I finally get a grip on the fence and start to climb, but I don't know if my voice can even be heard over the rain pelting the ground and the sounds of the city around me. The words seem to reverberate off the brick walls around me, and I feel like they are mocking me.

  "No one's listening, Gail. No one cares."

  They are the first words I've heard Trevor speak in years, and they crawl along my spine. I continue to climb until I reach the top of the fence. One hand grabs at the top and I start crawling over the wire, not caring about the blades slicing through my skin, or the blood dripping below me.

  "You're going to regret trying to be strong, Gail," he says.

  An instant later, I feel a sharp sting on my back and I no longer have control over my muscles, and I tumble off the fence. I think I'm going to hit the ground, but a pair of arms sweep me from the air, pulling me up against a wet shirt. I close my eyes, pretending it's Xavier cradling me to him. The consciousness that nearly left me comes roaring back as we begin to move quickly down the alley, and I realize Trevor is carrying me.

  "What's wrong? What happened to her?"

  “Is she OK?”

  Unfamiliar voices swell around me, and I realize people have finally realized something is wrong and have come toward my screams. There's a moment of hope before I hear Trevor's voice answer the crowd. The taunting is gone, and he now sounds frantic, on the edge of tears. It's masterful, and I know everyone around us is being swayed by his acting.

  "She was attacked. I found her in the alley. I'm going to take her to the hospital."

  I try to speak, to call out that he's lying, and ask for help, but my voice won't come out of my throat. The shock that coursed through me and knocked me off the fence seems to have taken away my ability to speak and slowed my movements.

  "I'll call an ambulance," a woman calls out.

  "There isn't time" Trevor insists. "Can't you see the condition she's in? I'll get her there faster."

  He starts to run, and in my mind, I try to count the steps and figure out how far I have until we're back in the spot he found me. It comes too fast, and I realize he had walked toward me and somehow gotten behind me rather than following me the whole way. I managed to regain control over my voice as I feel myself being tossed headfirst into the backseat.

  "What are you doing to me, Trevor?" I asked.

  "Taking you home," he hisses.

  He runs around to the driver's side of the car and climbs behind the wheel. As the car lurches to life and speeds down the road, I wonder if anyone's still watching or if they notice he's not driving in the direction of any local hospital.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Xavier

  "Anything?" Evan asks as I end my call.

  I let out a growl of exasperation and throw my phone. It bounces off the back of the couch and slides across the floor.

  "No one has heard from her," I groan. "Nothing. Not a single word in three fucking days. She hasn't called any of the women from her apartment building. She hasn't used her bank account. The security guard I hired to stand outside her apartment hasn't seen her. How can she have just disappeared?"

  I try to focus on the anger and frustration building inside of me, but I know it's just masking the terror and helplessness I'm feeling deep down. I haven't felt this since the night I stood outside the lake house and watched the glow of the flames consume the frame of the building, knowing Helen was trapped somewhere inside. There was nothing I could do then as I stared at the ferocious light, feeling as though I was locked in place, watching my wife burn. Now I feel like I'm right back there, not able to do anything again, as Abigail faces a monster. My heart sank into my stomach the second I found her letter. I've done everything I could think of to find her. I scoured her apartment for any indication of where she might have gone. I called every person I could think of who might even have an inkling of where she was. I visited every hotel in miles. Every time someone told me they couldn't give me any information, it felt like I was running headlong into a brick wall. The fear increases with each moment that passes. I hate that I don't know where she is. I know she feels like she's doing the right thing, and that she's protecting Anna and me, but I don't feel that way. She was safer here in my arms, and I won't stop until I get her back.

  "A lot of her clothes are gone. Her makeup is gone, her car is gone. There's no sign of anything violent happening around here. At least it looks like she left on her own free will."

  "And that's supposed to make it any better?" I ask. "However she left, she's still gone, and no one knows where she is. She's out there by herself while that freak stalks her."

  "Did you call the police again?"

  "Yes. They still won't tell me anything. They say that they won't because I'm not related to her."

  Evan reaches for his phone and dials. I know he's already called, but they've been nearly as vague with him as with me.

  "I'll be there tomorrow," he says.

  It sounds more like a threat than it does a confirmation.

  "What did they say?" I ask when he drops the phone to the seat beside him.

  "Exactly what they've said before. She's an adult. She can leave and go wherever she wants to, whenever she wants to. They can't consider her missing because there's nothing suspicious about her leaving. She brought clothes with her. She has her phone, her purse."

  "They have to know how much danger she could be in. They have a record of Trevor stalking her and being arrested."

  "He was technically put in jail for vandalism, not stalking or harassment. They aren't officially considered connected. They have notes about her complaints, but because she left notes saying she was leaving under her own free will, they won’t consider her missing or endangered." Evan seems to think for a few seconds, then drops forward, his head falling into his hands as his elbows rest on his thighs, his hands gripping his hair tightly. "There has to be something else they can do. They have to be able to look for her in some way, to figure out where she might be."

  I shake my head.

  "I already asked. They won't do anything. Again, she's an adult and she seems to have left because she wanted to. They said pinging her phone or checking her bank account without there being clear evidence she's in danger is an invasion of her privacy so they won't do it unless they get a court order."

  Fuck this.

  I grab my raincoat and start toward the door.

  "Where are you going?" Evan asks.

  "I can't just sit here and wait for something to happen. I have to keep looking for her. If they won't try to find her, I will. Watch Anna for me, will you?"

  After two fitful nights, my daughter has finally fallen asleep, and I’m not going to disturb her now. I know Evan is worried sick about Abigail. He wants to find his sister and know that she's alright, but I can't sit in the apartment any longer. This is my responsibility, and I will find her. Whatever it takes, I will find her and bring her home safe.

  I rush out of the building, throwing my coat on as I run toward my car in the parking deck. I've already checked everywhere I thought Abigail might go, but I have to check again. I head directly toward the building where Abigail lived when she taught at Primrose. She had to return her key to Eloise when she moved out, so I can't get in the front door. Climbing onto the porch, I pound on the door until I see someone coming down the steps toward me. The woman's face is angry and confused, and I realize I don't know what time it is. She was probably asleep, but I don't care. She pauses on the other side of the glass and stares out at me. I step into the glow of the porch light so she can see me better, and she narrows her eyes to scrutinize me. I don't recognize her as one of the teachers Abigail spent much time with, and I wonder if she's the one who was hired to replace her. Finally, the woman tightens
her grip on the threadbare pink robe she's put on over her white striped pajamas, and uses her other hand to open the door a few inches.

  Not wanting her to think I might be some danger to her, I resist the urge to get closer to the door.

  "Can I help you?" she asks.

  "My name is Xavier Pearson. Do you know Abigail Dixon?"

  She pauses for a few seconds longer than is justified by not seeing someone you know for only a few months.

  "No," she finally says. "I can't say I know that name."

  "She used to live here," I say.

  The woman nods once.

  "Oh, yes. That must be the woman who used to live in my apartment. I replaced her at the school."

  There's a scowl on her face, and I notice she has moved more of her body behind the door.

  "Yes," I say. "Has she come by here?"

  "No," she says. "Like I said, I don't know that name. I haven't had opportunity to be introduced to her."

  "Has anyone else come by here looking for her? It's extremely important that I know if someone has."

  She looks at me suspiciously, but I feel no need to justify my questions.

  "Not that I know of. Not many people come around here in the middle of the night."

  I ignore the dig, and move on.

  "Are any of the other teachers awake?" I ask.

  "I doubt it. We all have classes we have to teach in the morning, and we take our responsibilities very seriously. Unlike some people."

  I glare at her, my jaw tightening.

  "I wouldn't criticize people I don't know if I were you," I say, losing all pretense of sounding even close to pleasant. "You might not feel as self-righteous if you knew the whole story. If someone comes here looking for Abigail, tell Lisa to call the police. Make sure she knows Abigail is still missing."

  I walk away from the building without bothering to wait for a response. When I glance back at the door I see the woman still standing at the door, her mouth open as what I said to her seems to sink into her mind. Getting back into my car, I slam my foot on the gas and head to the next place I can think of.

  ********

  Abigail

  When I wake up, I have no idea how much time has passed. Ropes around my wrists and neck rub against my skin, the sharp fibers piercing and burning as I twist against them. I don't know how I got here. It takes a few seconds for me to process my surroundings in the dark. Forms start to take shape and I gradually realize I'm in the basement of Trevor's house. Flickering light ahead of me and muffled sounds gradually form the shape of our old TV, and I see the silhouette of Trevor's head in front of it. As if just looking at him is enough for him to know I'm awake, he turns toward me. I see a sickening smile form on his lips as he stands and walks towards me.

  "There you are, sleepyhead," he says. "The road trip wore you out, didn't it?"

  I fight against the ropes again, but they are tied tightly to the post of an old bed I don't ever remember being down here. I have the sickening realization that it's here for this purpose. This is exactly what Trevor has been planning for years. This is what has been motivating him all this time.

  "Let me go, Trevor," I say.

  "Why would I do that? You're home now. There's nowhere else you need to be."

  "This is not my home," I hiss through gritted teeth.

  "Of course, it is." He looks around. "Oh, I get it. You don't recognize the new rec room. I thought it would be a fun surprise for when you got home. We always said it would be nice to have a designated place to hang out when we have friends over, so I put this together for you. But you’d probably rather see something more familiar. Come on, let's head upstairs."

  He comes up to the side of the bed and reaches for one of my hands. I try to think of a way I can get away from him but I realize he not only has my arms tied to the post but also tied together and to a rope around my neck. The configuration stops me from being able to move freely, even with one hand untied.

  Finally, I'm untied from the bed, and Trevor pulls me up. He guides me to the steps using the chain as a leash, rambling as we go. I'm not processing anything he says. My mind is spinning with what I see around me. Nothing has changed since the day I ran out of the house. The door at the top of the steps is still broken from Trevor escaping from the basement after I locked him in. The groceries I bought that day remain scattered across the kitchen counters, the smell of the rotting meat causing my stomach to turn. He drags me into the bedroom and I see laundry still in the hamper, the stack I folded that morning before I went to the grocery store still sitting on the dresser. Trevor leads me over to the bed and forces me onto it. My body aches and my skin stings. I struggle to remember what happened between being in the car and waking up in the basement, wondering what he did to me during that time.

  When I'm secured to the bed, I realize the sheets smell musty and sour as though these also haven't been changed since I left. He looks down at me and notices I’m shivering.

  "You must be uncomfortable," he says. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes."

  He pulls a small knife out of his pocket and flips the blade out. My body shudders, and I want to scream, but my mind tells me to stop. No one will be able to hear me if I do, and it will likely only make him angry. I try to stay as calm as he uses the blade to cut through my pants and shirt, tossing the scraps aside. I'm relieved when he doesn't go any further.

  "There," he says. "That's better."

  I have a sudden thought.

  "I'd like to take a shower," I say, trying not to let any of the fear or disgust I’m feeling come through my voice. "If you could just untie me, I could…"

  "You think I'm that stupid, don’t you?" he booms. "You can't possibly think I'd actually cut you loose that easily. No, not until you're used to being here again. Not until you remember how to be a good girl and stop thinking about those silly dreams and bad people who tried to take you away from me."

  "Why are you doing this to me, Trevor?" I asked.

  His eyes flash. They look wild, out of touch. I've never seen him look quite like this. It's terrifying on a level I haven't experienced before.

  "Why am I doing this? Are you seriously asking why?" His hand cracks against my cheek, and I cry out in startled pain. "You. This is your fault. You're the one who made me do this. If you had just behaved and done what you were supposed to do and been the woman you were supposed to be, none of this would have happened. Something got into your mind and made you think you could get on without me. It took you away from me."

  "You," I say in retaliation. "You did that. How could I stay with you after how you had treated me?"

  He lashes out at me again, but this time I refuse to make a sound.

  "All I ever did was love you. You know you aren't shit without me, Gail. You’re lucky I ever paid attention to someone as pathetic as you. But then something took you away. I waited for you to come back. I kept everything exactly the same. When you didn't come back, I went looking for you. I could have just pretended you didn't exist. I could have just ignored your pathetic, ungracious ass and moved on with a woman who's actually worth something." He stops and paces around for a few seconds. He digs his hands back through his hair, then looks at me again. His eyes are still crazed, but his expression has changed from one of fury to frantic desperation. He takes a step toward the bed, and I feel my entire body tense. "I didn't mean it that way. I was so worried about you."

  Trevor leans down to kiss my cheek, and sickness rolls through my stomach. The smell of his breath lingers around me, and I feel his fingertips run down my skin from my shoulder to my wrist. They briefly graze my hip, and I pray he won't go any further.

  "Water."

  The word bursts through my lips before I even realizing I'm saying it. Trevor pauses and straightens, looking down at me.

  "What?" he asks.

  "Water," I say. "Can I have some water? I'm really thirsty."

  He nods. The warped tenderness has come back to his expression. />
  "Of course. I'm sure you're thirsty. You haven't wanted anything since you got home. You just relax. I'll get you something."

  He walks out of the room and a wave of relief crashes over me. I know he'll only be gone for a brief time, but it's enough to distract him and to let me think through what's happening so I can make decisions about what I'm going to do. I have to get out of here. Trevor is calm right now, but I know it won’t last. The longer I'm here, the more dangerous the situation becomes for me. Eventually, he’ll realize he can't keep me locked up like this forever. Then he’ll try to get rid of me. In the few minutes he's out of the room, I evaluate the way my arms are tied. I won't be able to untie them easily, but I realize that the configuration is different in the bedroom than it was in the basement. He didn't secure my neck as tightly, and I have slightly more of a range of motion than I had before. This gives me a hint of hope even as Trevor comes back into the room holding a cup of water. Tucking his hand under the back of my head, he lifts me up and places the cup to my lips. I take a few sips, trying not to wince at the musty taste of the glass. I wonder if it's been sitting in the sink since I left it there.

  "Thank you," I say.

  I hope I can keep him calm and lull him into a sense of security. It may only buy me a few minutes, but every second is important at this point.

  "Isn't this wonderful?" he asks. "It must be so nice to be back home. And it's forever now. This time, you aren't going anywhere. You're going to be safe and secure, here, Gail. You won’t ever be led astray again. I promise. No one will ever convince you to cheat on me, neglect me, or abandon me ever again."

  I hate every lie that comes out of his mouth, but the tension and anger in his voice are escalating as he speaks, and I know if I respond, it will only push him closer to the edge. I nod, but apparently that isn't the right response.