Fire Goddess

by Crystal Inman

  He nodded at George’s words. Kelly’s parents had rebuked the detective who suggested Sloan would be more comfortable in his own house. George let the man know, in no uncertain terms, that his job was to find George’s daughter, not order people around. And if suggested once more that Sloan leave, he could find the door himself and not return.

  One whole week. No news. And Sloan’s fear was a constant companion. He barely ate. He never slept. The thought of Kelly held at the mercy of a crazed fan scared him more than anything in his life ever had. Where was she? And what was happening to her?

  * * * *

  Kelly’s days fell into a routine that taxed her mentally and physically. Steven would act out scenes from the soap for hours on end. He would play the doting lover while she was the reluctant prisoner. And Kelly’s fear grew.

  Each “set” she was taken to was an absolute replica of the ones on the set. And she knew that sometime in the near future, Steven would expect “Felicia” to share his bed as she would Christian’s character.

  Kelly played her part to perfection. Whenever she thought she would weaken, she would slip “Felicia” on and somehow make it through another day.

  She began to tear little strips of her cotton gown off to mark the days she thought had passed. Not long after her stay, Steven had told her to change into the white, cotton gown which was now her costume of choice. Pure fear shot through her before she realized he wasn’t telling her to be his lover. Yet.

  Most of the time Steven was civilized. The only time he had raised his hand to Kelly was when they began talking about their families. She had pried into his life and infuriated him. The sharp slap across her cheek warned her to never bring the subject up again.

  Kelly didn’t let one tear fall. She simply took the pain and pushed it down deep inside herself. Never would she give this man the satisfaction of seeing her hurt. Never.

  Each evening after a dinner of Steven feeding her, she would retire to her cell and work on loosening her bonds. Just one little slip, and maybe she could surprise her captor and escape.

  Sloan was in her mind constantly. His touch. His smell. His strength. The only time she came close to crying was when she thought of him and their time apart. And her parents. Kelly would give anything to spare them any type of pain. And she knew they were suffering right now.

  She wavered between sleep and consciousness when she heard Steven begin to mumble about another set. Kelly stiffened immediately and grew still as she tried to make out the words. The only set that hadn’t been finished on the set was the seduction scene.

  The rush of adrenaline brought her awake immediately, and she began moving her hands again to loosen the knots which held her captive.

  * * * *

  “We may have something.” Detective Washington’s, the lead detective, words permeated Sloan’s brain in an instant. He ran over and stood over the man.

  “What do you have?”

  “We’ve been working quite a few angles.” The detective held up a piece of paper. “We have thirty-five individuals in the area who purchased a lot of building supplies in the last three months. Maybe our guy took the victim so he could act out what he sees on the screen. We’ll split the lists and see what we can find.”

  He paused. “We also have six detectives going through fan letters and trying to comb out the dangerous people.”

  Sloan held out his hand, and the detective glared at him. “Not even close.”

  “Give me the damn list,” Sloan growled.

  Several detectives walked over, and Detective Washington handed out the assignments. George walked over and stood between Sloan and the detective. He faced the detective first.

  “Listen, Detective Washington. We all want Kelly back. Simple. No need to get in a ruffle.” He turned around and met Sloan’s eyes and then looked down at the stack of papers between them.

  “And you, young man.” George’s eyes looked down at the papers between them again and back to Sloan. “You know we need to let these fine, young men do their job.”

  Sloan growled and shuffled his feet to hide the sound of him palming a list. “Whatever.” He turned quickly and strode out of the room.

  “He’s a little out of sorts.” George apologized for Sloan and then followed him out of the room. “I’ll go talk to him.”

  * * * *

  Sloan heard George walk in the room, and he turned around with a grin. “Pretty sharp, George.”

  The older man clapped Sloan on the back. “I’m sick of this bullshit. Let’s find my daughter.”

  They opened the paper and made a list of their own. When it was complete, Sloan ripped it in half. “Tell Christine to stay here and keep the detectives company.” He gave half the list to George and smiled grimly. “This guy better hope they find him first.”

  * * * *

  Kelly heard hammering all hours of the day. Since she hadn’t seen daylight in at least two weeks, everything was beginning to blur into a vast array of sounds and smells.

  Bacon and eggs meant breakfast. More hammering. When it stopped, it was lunch. More hammering and then she was expected to play the part of “Felicia” for her captor. The aroma of meat and potatoes signaled dinner.

  And Steven was beginning to touch her more. No matter how hateful she was or what she said, he was beginning to break down that self-imposed barrier between the characters in his head. And that scared Kelly the most.

  After a particularly wearing day, she simply curled up into a ball on her cot and wished she were somewhere else. It would be so easy to stray into her mind for a nice respite from reality. The soft voice startled her.

  “Kelly. Why do you give up hope?”

  Kelly blinked rapidly and tried to focus her eyes on the other person in the room. A soft light enveloped her friend, and she knew she was dreaming.

  “Leave me alone, Wilda. There is no hope.”

  “Child.” Wilda walked over and sat down on the cot beside her. “There is always hope.” She stroked Kelly’s hair softly and sighed. “You can escape.”

  Kelly held up her bound hands. “Untie me then.”

  “I cannot.”

  “Go away.” Kelly turned her face back toward the wall and fought the tears just below the surface.

  “I cannot give hope, Kelly.” Wilda’s voice grew stronger. “But I can give strength. And that is my second gift to you. Strength.” She touched Kelly gently on the shoulder.

  Kelly’s arm suffused with warmth, and her body began to tingle. A new resolve began to form in her. She turned back to Wilda, but she was alone in her cell. Strength. What is my strength? The thought came to her in an instant. Acting. Her talent had brought her to this point, and now she would make sure it freed her.

  * * * *

  The next morning over breakfast, Kelly smiled flirtatiously at Steven. “This breakfast is delicious.”

  Steven’s blue eyes narrowed in suspicion for a second before his features smoothed out. “Thank you.”

  She picked up her napkin and dabbed her lips delicately. The man’s eyes followed every movement.

  Kelly’s bound hands moved down further slowly, making sure her captor noticed how her breasts pushed up against the white cotton gown.

  “I may have underestimated you.” Kelly’s voice was soft and soothing in the room.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look at this.” She motioned around the meticulous reproduction with her bound wrists. “It’s about time I realized that money can’t buy everything. I need someone to care about me for myself. And not what’s in my bank account.” Kelly’s nerves were stretched to their breaking point while she waited for a response.

  “I knew you would understand.” The relief was evident in Steven’s voice. “I told her it wouldn’t take as long as she thought.”

  Her?

  Kelly only pondered the word for a minute before she plunged headfirst into a place that would either save her or destroy her. “I think it’s time we showed each
other the depth of our feelings.”

  Steven’s throat worked nervously for a minute before a broad grin split his features. He tried to stand too quickly and stumbled a bit.

  “Yes. I’ll be done with our bedroom this evening.” He rushed over to Kelly and moved her chair so it faced him. Steven knelt and put his head in her lap. “We’ll finally be together like we were meant to be.”

  “Yes,” Kelly murmured. She would make sure this nightmare would end one way or another.

  * * * *

  Sloan shadowed the police for two days before he found a couple of people on his list they hadn’t questioned yet. After knocking on at least six different doors in two days, he parked his car and laid his head on the steering wheel. No leads. No Kelly. And three weeks gone.

  He refused to think about the possibility Kelly was hurt. His mind absolutely refused to think about another possibility. He would know. Dammit! Sloan hit the steering wheel with as much force as he could. The pain in his hand didn’t even come close to the ache in his heart.

  With new resolve, he started his car and looked at the next name on the list. He had work to do.

  * * * *

  The hammering ceased sometime after lunch, and Kelly’s already stretched nerves gave her the beginning of a migraine. She had fought through the first headaches she had here. But this one wasn’t abating at all. It was growing worse rapidly.

  She strengthened her resolve and waited patiently for Steven to come to her. Because she would make sure that tonight was the last night she spent here. One way or another.

  * * * *

  The door swung open, and Kelly forced a smile to her face.

  Steven bowed low and came to help Kelly up from her cot. “Your bath awaits.” He escorted Kelly down a narrow hall and up a flight of stairs. They stopped outside the first door, and Steven flung it open with a flourish.

  A bath had already been drawn, and Kelly turned to thank him for his efforts. “It’s lovely.” She smiled and lowered her head demurely. “Thank you.”

  Steven grinned proudly. “I’ll give you half an hour to get ready.” And then his eager, blue eyes trailed down her body. “And then you’ll be mine.” He quickly untied her hands and left.

  Kelly kept her head down until she heard the door shut, but when she looked up, all the fury in shone in her emerald eyes. She looked around the bathroom and noted the utilitarian surroundings. There were no razors or sharp objects of any kind. The containers with the shampoo and conditioner were plastic and of no use as a weapon.

  The entire room looked like a set. False. Plastic. She opened the medicine cabinet and the bathroom drawers. There was absolutely nothing inside.

  Kelly frowned and rifled through every crease of the room. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She quickly undressed and slid into the water. She would take a quick bath and then resume her search for something to end this nightmare.

  When she picked up the loofah to scrub herself, her finger caught on a piece of metal that held the sponge to the cord. Kelly picked it apart until she had a small, metal brad in her hand. It wasn’t much, but it might help if she could get close enough to Steven to harm him.

  The realization of how close their proximity would have to be set her head pounding again. Kelly closed her eyes and steadied herself. Almost there. Only a little while longer.

  She stood and quickly wrapped a towel around herself. And then she saw it. A filmy, blue negligee was hung on the hook behind the towel she grabbed. Kelly froze in her place. Her hand reached out of its own accord and touched the soft material.

  Kelly shuddered, but remained where she was. She took the gown off the hanger and pulled it over her bare body. And then she took the small, blue thong and slid it on. Her body broke out in goose bumps, and she rubbed her arms briskly.

  The performance of a lifetime. Kelly slid the brad between her fingers and prayed it would not be found. She only needed a little time to find a door. Make her escape. Get back to her family and Sloan.

  Sloan. The mere thought of the man she’d grown to love gave her strength. He wouldn’t quit looking for her. She knew that. He’d never quit. But she was going to do everything in her power to help him find her.

  Kelly turned at the knock on the door, and then she heard Steven unlocking it. The pain in her head worsened, but she plastered a sweet smile on her face that never reached her eyes.

  Steven swung the door open and stopped in his tracks. His jaw dropped considerably, and she saw his features tighten. Arousal. Plain and simple. Kelly ducked her head as if embarrassed and hoped he would forget about binding her hands again. No such luck.

  He took her hands and wound the cotton cloth around them quickly. Kelly kept her head down as he stroked her arm softly.

  “Almost time.” His words were a mere whisper in the quietness of the room. He took Kelly’s hands and led her to the bedroom.

  * * * *

  Sloan growled in frustration. The last two names on the list he tried to contact weren’t at home. His temper snapped irritably at the inconvenience. There were three more names on his list. And he wasn’t going home until he talked to all three of them.

  * * * *

  Kelly tried to slow her steps, and Steven didn’t seem to mind. When they reached the bedroom door, he opened it and swung it open for her.

  She gasped before she could take the sound back. A realization struck deep within her that somehow someone from the set had a part in this.

  The bedroom was an exact copy of Sloan’s sketches. The bed was a massive piece flush against the wall between the two large windows. A large dresser stood to her right. And there were flowers everywhere.

  The covers on the bed were deep jewel tones of red, blue, and green. The window coverings matched perfectly and were accented by the gold threads shooting down through the material.

  A nightstand on her left was decorated with brass candlesticks and lit vanilla candles. The dresser was overflowing with vases and fruit bowls.

  But Kelly’s eyes kept being pulled back to the bed with the covers folded down, as if to wait for its occupants. Her eyes began to water from her migraine, and she blinked back the tears.

  Steven walked in front of her and gently pulled her toward the bed. He sat and then positioned Kelly between his legs.

  She held out her hands. “You’re going to keep me bound?” Kelly looked up and held his gaze as tears cascaded down her cheeks.

  His expression softened, and he shook his head. “I’m not supposed to untie you.”

  Kelly looked away, showing Steven her profile.

  He sighed once and looked around as if someone else were there. “Okay. But don’t try anything. I’m a lot stronger than you are, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’ll be good.” Kelly spoke the words softly while her heart rejoiced at the chance to have her hands free.

  Steven untied her, and she brought her hands up to lightly rub her wrists. They were raw from the many nights she had tried to loosen her bonds. There were spots that had bled and scabbed over several times.

  “You’re hurt.” Steven’s tone was shocked.

  “I’ll be okay.” Kelly looked at him shyly and moved a little to her left.

  He took her hands in his and touched her wounds softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Steven’s blue eyes begged her to understand and forgive him.

  “I know.”

  Kelly raised her arms, as if to stretch, and watched as Steven’s eyes moved to her breasts. When she brought them slowly back down again, her left hand snatched the candlestick off the nightstand. Steven was still staring at her when she hit him on the side of the head. He fell back on the bed with a soft groan.

  Kelly leaned over him and tried to make sure she hadn’t hurt him worse than she thought. His eyes began to flutter, and she ran toward the door and yanked it open.

  “Felicia.” The word was a whisper in the stillness of the room. Kelly barely heard it above the frantic beating of her heart.<
br />
  The sound of the name didn’t stop her. It made her run faster.

  * * * *

  Sloan pulled into the last driveway on his list and killed the engine. The large house was dark, and he cursed loudly. The small sliver of the moon barely cast any light on the house or its property.

  He couldn’t stand to go back to Kelly’s parents empty-handed. The looks on their faces tore away pieces of his heart. And every time he looked at Christine, he saw Kelly.

  Maybe he could go back by the other houses. Someone might be home. He glared at the house and started his Bronco again.

  Sloan backed up slowly and hit something. He slammed the Bronco into park and stepped out. Someone had left a large piece of lumber in the driveway, and he scowled. When he walked back up to hop inside his vehicle, a small flash of blue caught his eye.

  He stilled immediately.

  Blue?

  An animal would be black, brown, or white. Wouldn’t it? Sloan squinted his eyes and hunkered over the steering wheel. Blue. It wouldn’t let him go.

  Sloan cut the engine and stepped out of the Bronco with a flashlight. He quickly cut through the lawn and toward the front door of the house.

  * * * *

  Kelly ran. She ran until she thought her heart and head would burst. The brambles and bushes cut her bare legs mercilessly, and still she ran. It was so dark. And she was beginning to lose the strength in her legs and lungs. But the mere thought of Steven finding her spurred her on.

  There was no way of knowing which direction she was headed. All she knew was “away.” Away from Steven. Away from her prison. Away.

  Her breath hitched in her throat, and she stopped for a second to lean against a tree. The throbbing in her head prevented her from opening her eyes all the way, and she squinted against the pain.

  And then she heard it. Something or someone was behind her. Twigs snapped, and a faint light swung back and forth between limbs and vines.

  Kelly flattened herself against the tree and looked around wildly. She had no way of knowing if her stalker could hear or see her. She cautiously eased her way to the left with her hands outstretched in front of her. But her foot caught in a hole, and she fell down with a small shriek.