Always Summer

by Criss Copp

  “Where the fuck is my wife?” I yelled. Someone needed to give me answers... I was going to tear this town apart any minute now.

  I’d already lost it earlier...

  The panic had gotten me to Northport in record time... without rising to anger... but the moment I got there... I lapsed into a rage.

  I’d kicked a dent in my car door, punched another dent into the MacFarlane’s fridge and threw a kitchen stool through their back door, lucky for them it was open... and in addition to this; I had sworn, cursed and hollered till everyone around me knew not to approach without some serious battle ready armor on.

  I wasn’t just seeing red... I wanted blood!

  My face must’ve been frightening. Even the police didn’t come near me.

  My breathing was accelerated... I felt like angry fire ants had nested in my veins... I felt so tightly coiled at that moment that I was going to hurt everyone in the immediate radius.

  I’d already mortally wounded Debbie... accusing her of stupid recklessness, and blaming her for Summer’s disappearance.

  I’d offered to remove Max’s face if he tried to even stand up for his wife again.

  I had pushed my Dad so hard he made an impression on the MacFarlane’s wall in their entranceway... and I’d made my Mom cry by telling her to shut the fuck up and stop telling me to calm down.

  I’d stalked outside... I needed to punch something.

  There wasn’t anything satisfactory to punch... so in complete exasperation... I’d collapsed on the grass and started to scream... and then I cried like a baby.

  Summer.

  It was dark... I’d been crying so much that I couldn’t tell what was around me. It was a street, cars were parked there, but the houses were crowded in, not spaced out. I couldn’t make out distinct colors... they blurred through the tears.

  Stupid... bloody... hormones!

  If I could’ve been more together, I could’ve known where I was and read street signs... I hadn’t noticed which turns Jordan had made in his SUV. Instead, I’d cried and lamented till I was hoarse. In addition to this, I’d been stupid by wasting my energy thrashing about and punching the dash board and Jordan, almost to the point that he nearly lost control of the vehicle and told me to stop or he’d be forced to tie me up. I’d stopped hitting him, but continued to stomp my feet and pound on the dash.

  I was wasted.

  I had no doubt I was bulky and a little heavy. But Jordan lifted me... cradled in his arms... and carried me up three flights of narrow stairs... unlocked and opened a door, and then carried me awkwardly up another very narrow flight of stairs. At the top was another door... it wasn’t locked... it was propped open with something I couldn’t see.

  He put me down on my feet... turned around and closed the door at the top of the narrow stairs.

  “Come on Summer... let’s get you in the shower.” He said softly.

  I baulked... the little bit of strength that had returned since I’d stopped thrashing about, allowed me to slap him hard across the face and shove him away from me.

  The dim light and my waterlogged eyes stopped me from being able to see his face clearly... but I could certainly hear his growl.

  “You’ll need to use the toilet... and you’ll need to have a shower!” he growled. “Don’t make this difficult!” Jordan stated.

  I couldn’t speak... I was devastated. He grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me somewhere down a dark hallway to a bathroom.

  I was like a puppet on strings, waiting for the master to move me. He turned the light on in his bathroom, and then proceeded to remove my panties from under my dress... I fought him then... slapping him away... yet still; he swiftly removed them and forced me to sit on the toilet. Then he walked out of the room... leaving the door open.

  The effect of my boys pressing down on my bladder did the work of relieving me... otherwise I would’ve held on to spite Jordan. I wiped myself through rote... but I remained seated... numb!

  He came back in... He grabbed my hands and pulled me up, despite my attempts to reef them out of his grasp. He dragged me over to the shower... my feet were uncooperative; he was practically lifting me off the floor.

  “Now, it’s been a shitty day... you need to take a shower before bed.” He started, lifting the hem of my dress.

  I’m not sure where the strength came from that time, but I used the last of it defending my honor in that moment.

  I kicked, screamed, scratched, punched and struggled for all I was worth. I ended up lowered to the floor... Jordan hovering over me, trying to protect himself... and for whatever fucked up reason... me.

  “Summer!” he screamed. “I won’t hurt you!”

  I cried.

  He ended up running a bath and placing me in it fully clothed... except for my panties of course.

  I sat there, the suds to my armpits... my face down. Defeated...

  “Lift your arms.” He said.

  I wouldn’t.

  Sighing... he reached forward and forcefully pulled up my dress. It was a really pretty dress... cotton... blue and white with little butterflies and large flowers patterned across the hem... and little bees with their little buzzing lines across it, making them look as though they’d been bumbling above the flowers and butterflies, dancing across the fabric. It was a gift from Julie.

  Next my bra... again I fought... he got wet... I became braless.

  He handed me a washcloth. I sat dumbfounded.

  “Either you can wash yourself... or I can wash you!” he announced... sitting on the lid of the toilet... watching me.

  “Fuck you!” I managed to rasp out.

  He smiled.

  “You’re still beautiful... even with his bastard inside you!” Jordan chuckled.

  I cried... but when I started washing myself, he stepped out of the room... my dripping clothes went with him.

  He returned a very short time later.

  “Take your time!” he said... your clothes are in the wash... I’ll dry them too, but you’ll be without clothes for about an hour and a half.” He said.

  I stayed... I cleaned myself... I didn’t want him looking at me if I could help it.

  *

  An hour and a half is a long time to sit in a bath with someone intermittently coming in to stare at you. Especially if you don’t want them to stare at you... or to be near you... or to be in the same state, country or world as you.

  I wouldn’t get out of the bath... so he pulled the plug out.

  I still wouldn’t get out of the bath; I just pathetically sat there with my hands over my boobs, my belly covering up my nether regions in my seated position.

  So he came at me with a towel in his hands.

  I winced... but I got the hint... I grabbed the towel and put it over myself. I tried to get up myself, to avoid his contact... he still steadied me as I got out of the tub.

  My vision had cleared now... I was able to see him. He looked completely calm and unaffected.

  The bathroom was clean and tidy. It consisted of a toilet, vanity, shower and bath. There was a high window over the bath, which I couldn’t see out of.

  “Come on Summer... I’ll put you to bed.” He said, attempting to steer me out of the bathroom by my elbow.

  “Clothes,” I began frantically, my voice remained all raspy. “You said I could have my clothes back!” I pleaded.

  “Your clothes are in the bedroom.” He said, nodding a direction to me and placing more pressure on my elbow.

  We walked through the only other door in the hallway, and a large room with sloping ceilings came into view. He lived in an attic. It was a nice attic... for a prison.

  A queen-sized bed was positioned under a window on the far side of the room. The door entered in the middle of the room between two built-in robes.

  On the right side of the bed was a small pile of folded clothes. I went over to them. My panties, bra and what looked like a t-shirt.

  I looked up at him.

  “You’l
l need your dress for tomorrow... you can wear one of my shirts tonight.” He said.

  I just nodded.

  *

  He settled me into the bed, and then he sat down beside me. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting... but he leant toward the window, put his hand around the headboard of the bed, and pulled something rattling from behind it... My confusion made me stupid... I was so bewildered that he managed to clasp the first cuff on my right wrist without me struggling, and then I was bucking and kicking under the covers as he successfully cuffed my left wrist.

  “I can’t have you attempting to get out while I shower.” He reasoned, as though nothing was astray. I looked at the chain, attached to the bed somehow out of eyesight, and attached to a set of metal cuffs that now contained my wrists. The chain gave me approximately three feet of movement.

  He retreated out of the door before I could resume kicking and thrashing.

  By the time he’d returned... the bed was a mess... and I was sitting on the floor.

  He sighed and proceeded to clean up the bed.

  Chapter 24

  Blake.

  It’s been a week! Where is she? I’m no longer angry... I’m struggling with fears that completely surpass my childhood trauma.

  I’m at my parents... in my room... I’m not eating... Julie sleeps on the floor next to my bed, on a mattress she dragged in here.

  My face has a beard forming... my hair is turning into dreads... I don’t brush it... ever!

  The police can’t tell me anything... they’re hoping she’ll go into labor and turn up at a hospital.

  That would mean that she has either run away, or is with someone who’ll treat her respectfully... and if that was the case... why haven’t we been contacted?

  I hold onto hope... but the rope attached to it is burning my fingers as it tries to pull away.

  Summer.

  Jordan keeps my wrists handcuffed at all times that he isn’t able to monitor me closely.

  When he goes out...

  When he uses the toilet...

  When he showers...

  When we sleep... together...

  I have bruises around my wrists, but the cuts have healed... since he started wrapping my wrists like a boxer.

  He snuggles up to me at night like he used to when we were a couple. I cringe, but I still sleep... I’m too tired now.

  He kisses me frequently... little quick kisses that he steals when I am falling asleep, or waking up, or walking past him. His favourite is to kiss me on the back of the neck... I just don’t care anymore... I need to work out how I’m going to get out of here with my babies... in one piece!

  He is always touching me... holding my hand... brushing his fingers through my hair... massaging my feet.

  He tells me he loves me so many times in any given day, that I don’t doubt it one bit. Till now, I’ve talked rarely.

  Today I need to ask him a question... and I’m terrified about the answer.

  “How long did you plan this?” I ask.

  “No plan... it was totally opportunistic!” he says, eating his pizza.

  I give him an incredulous look.

  “No... seriously!” he says, nodding.

  “If it was opportunistic, how come you have the cuffs in the bedroom?” I ask.

  He laughs at that.

  “The chain is from Redmond’s leash. I had to send him home because he couldn’t stay living with me in such close confines... and the cuffs are from Veronica.” He explains.

  Redmond was his dog! So... right now I’m thinking he must’ve put the cuff and chain shit together when I was sitting in the bath the first night... I don’t know why, but it makes me feel better that he didn’t have the setup ready when I got here. It might mean he didn’t intend to have me here in the first place. Perhaps he’ll let me go... eventually?

  Then there’s the girl he mentioned...

  “Who’s Veronica?” I ask.

  “A girl I was fucking over the Spring break... she was a bit kinky.” He answers, winking and smiling at me.

  “She didn’t work out?” I ask, thinking that if she was still on the scene, she may find me here when she returned.

  “I don’t do girlfriends Summer.” He replies flatly. He makes it perfectly clear that I broke his heart with the look he throws at me in that moment.

  Jordan’s a good looking guy... heck, if he hadn’t kidnapped me, I’d call him hot! He still had those smoldering dark brown eyes; the chestnut messy hair and the smattering of freckles that make him look innocent and harmless. He was muscled as all heck and tall! He used to be so sweet and nice... so many girls would be interested in that. Then I realize how fucked up this all is... he’s a mental case! And so I return to my line of questioning.

  “Explain opportunistic!” I demand, the words coming out more angry than I had thought I’d felt.

  He looks wide eyed at me, at first taken aback... then he smiles a huge smile, wipes his mouth on a napkin, stands up and takes both our plates to the sink, and washes his hands. He turns around and leans up against the sink. He places his hands on the sink either side of his hips and looks at me.

  “I really was going home after seeing my parents.” He begins.

  “I was stopped at the lights, and you turned in front of me to go into the grocery store. I was mesmerized by you... I had to see you again. So, when the lights turned green, I almost caused a crash and turned to follow you. I parked almost opposite you and watched you get out of your car.” He looks me up and down, spending more time on my breasts, before waving a hand at me like he is showcasing my wares.

  “You were pregnant! But way further along than I thought when I’d seen your recent modeling photos. I heard about you getting married, and I saw some photo’s online... but you didn’t look pregnant at your wedding! I had till that moment thought you’d gotten pregnant after your wedding. But no! He’d obviously knocked you up before that!” he chuckles inwardly... “I couldn’t believe you’d let him fuck you without protection, given all your talk about using condoms every time with me... so I sat there, watching you, and thinking about how stupid I was! I should’ve knocked you up and it would’ve been me that you’d married.” He runs a hand over his chin; his eyes are narrow on me. He breathes...

  “It made me angry... so I hopped out and went around your car and slashed your driver’s side tire. I went into the store, and then I almost fucked everything up right then and there; because I just felt so overwhelmed looking at you, that I was right back at the day you broke my heart. I went and grabbed a bag of chips, bought them and then made my way back out.” He explains.

  Unsure of what to say, I say nothing and let him continue.

  “I had thought to force you into my vehicle at that moment, after you worked out the tire was slashed. But I realised that was stupid, because people would see it happen and I’d get caught. So I made everything up on the spot, as things happened, you know...?”

  “The best thing about it all was that all the things that could’ve conspired against me didn’t! Everything worked in my favor! The rain and the fact that you were in distress and needed help... I couldn’t have planned all that.” He chuckles. “It was meant to happen... I was meant to see you and take you home... You are meant to be with me!” he reasons and shrugs, a big smile spreading over his face.

  I can’t believe it... if I had’ve stayed home, none of this would’ve happened. I want to cry.

  “Jordan... this is so fucked up! I’m due to deliver at any time! You’ll be caught... and your whole life will be fucked up... forever!” I stress.

  “I’ll help you have the baby.” He says.

  I feel my hope crack in two pieces in that moment and fall to the floor.

  “What does that even mean?” I say, my voice rising with incredulity.

  “Women have been having babies at home since time began!” he reasons.

  I stand shaking... I have a birth plan! I have a loving, wonderful husband, wanting to see his
sons born... I have chosen an epidural, I have no doubt the pain will cause me to behave a bit psycho!

  “I am having twins! Twins, Jordan!” I seethe. “I’m not deluding myself that I want a home birth! I do not want to push two babies out of my vagina by myself!” I shout.

  There is something hugely fucking wrong with this man!

  He does me the courtesy of blanching.

  “Shit... I’m sorry... but I’m doing my best here!” he reasons, his shoulders slumping.

  I burst into tears.

  “Don’t cry Summer... I love you! I’ll think of something... I promise!” he says, coming over and holding me.

  I just let him... I don’t care who holds me right now... even my captor. I am now faced with birthing twins without Blake, pain relief or pediatric care. I am completely and utterly confounded! I’m slipping into a stupor.

  Jordan holds my face in his hands... I can’t make out what he is saying... I can’t comprehend stuff right now.

  I feel his face move up to mine... feel his lips move on mine... feel him kissing me, sweetly like he used to... and I can’t move...

  *

  I can’t believe I’m merely grateful that Jordan didn’t go all the way with me, just kissed me and held me like he was a kid in Middle School exploring things; I should be horrified that he even touched me. He didn’t care that I didn’t respond... I mean, it must’ve been like kissing and holding a dead person.

  He has returned to the bedroom after going to the bathroom to have a shower. I don’t doubt he spent the time pulling himself off... he was sporting an erection when he left me, attaching me to the bed first.

  “Come on Summer... let’s get you ready for bed too.” He says, leaning across the top of me to undo the cuffs.

  He pulls me up into a seated position, and begins to undo the bandages around my wrists.

  I am watching him caressing my bruised right wrist, tenderly touching the marks with shaking hands. I am suddenly incensed that he feels he has a right to touch me.