“Did he ask you to go?”
“He didn’t ask, per se, but we are talking about long-term plans.”
“You have to go!” I blurt out as I stare at J, checking out. His chiseled biceps tease in the loose gray workout shirt. I shouldn’t know that they hold magnificent swaths of ink. “He is thirty-six.”
“And the problem with that?”
“I don’t need a Sugar Daddy,” I mumble, strumming my fingernails on the console. “And he doesn’t need a kid to raise.”
“You’re not a kid, Ek. You’ve got your shit together except for that one little impromptu rape post, but you wouldn’t be where you are if you hadn’t done that. Is he offering to be one?”
“A rapist? A gentleman? Or a Sugar Daddy?”
Her exuberant laugh echoes in the bathroom. “All three!”
“He isn’t offering anything but cereal and driving skills,” I sass as he pays for the items. “But there is something about him.”
“You want him.”
“I don’t know that I don’t,” I confess too quickly. “He’s overcast with this dreamy, enigmatic magnetism.”
“Enigmatic magnetism,” she repeats, letting it flow sensually off of her tongue. “I like that. So I should go to Houston with hopes of becoming Selia Grant, and you should hang out with your stalker boyfriend until he reveals what the fuck he wants.”
I laugh and find myself smiling. “I think I might. I’ll call you later. Get some sleep.”
“Love you!”
“Same!”
He returns to the car with two bags full of stuff. “I bought you whole milk.”
“Thank you,” I giddily say. “I’ll give you some money.”
“I don’t need your money,” he replies, opening the milk and cereal before handing me a spoon. “I want you happy. What kind of music?”
“Usually, alternative stuff.”
“Today, you’re listening to country,” he says, giving the bowl to me. “And feasting on flakes.”
“What are you eating?”
“Protein shake.”
I wrinkle my nose as he takes a swallow. “Have you ever had it?” I shake my head. “Try it. Just a sip. It’s not what you think.”
I take a taste, twitch my lips, and pour some in my cereal, making him laugh. “I bought three. Do you want one?”
“No,” I reply, grinning. “I appreciate the offer. Let’s drive. But take your time.”
“Are you on a schedule?” he asks, turning onto the frontage and heading for the highway.
“Not at all,” I answer, eating my cereal. “I’m free until school starts.”
“You like Cajun food?”
“I’ve never had any authentic Cajun, or Creole, for that matter.”
“No jambalaya or crawfish…sucking heads?”
“Ewww!” I squeal and giggle. “Why, are we going to Louisiana?”
“Do you want to?”
“I would love to!” I eagerly say. “I need to call my boss, Morgan, and my dad. I already called Selia.”
“New Orleans, here we come!” He winks and smiles. “I’ll get a room in the French Quarter, and tomorrow morning you will be dining on fresh beignets and Café Noir.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He tilts his head to look at me, but I quickly turn away. “Because I have spent five months in Arizona working my ass off, and you seem like you could use a vacation away from everything for a few days.”
“You’re right. I could. I have probably even earned it.”
“Yes, you have earned it, Echo. Every bit of it.”
Jynx
We spend the next four days in the Crescent City, seeing the sights and eating incredible cuisine. I spoil her rotten, buying her clothes, art, old records, and anything her heart desires. She bubbles with happiness and light like I’ve never known.
I hold her hand as we stroll Bourbon Street, more as a safety precaution—I tell myself. I lie. I want to hold her hand.
I want to do everything for this girl.
I need to do everything to this girl.
But she’s warped.
Good thing I am too.
Lighting a smoke, I drive North on 59 from New Orleans up to Alabama. We pass through Birmingham, and I glance at the sleeping angel. My assessment of bubbling dark cauldron was way off.
Ain’t nothing dark about Echo except one thing.
And that thing doesn’t sit right with me.
She’s too good to desire harm from a stranger who doesn’t deserve her in the least.
I should mention, I don’t think I deserve her, either.
My only goal is to persuade her to want more for herself.
Someone should’ve raised her better and warned her—there would be guys like me, residing in the shadows and prowling in the night; creepers breathing in the darkness, craving her light, capsizing her into the abyss.
Her yearning for dark recesses wasn’t a good thing.
But a very, very bad thing.
Someone never taught her the rules.
The difference between good and evil, beautiful and ugly—light and dark.
I intentionally wore her out over the last few days—early mornings and late nights—and she gulped down the morning protein shake loaded with sedatives like a good little girl.
Crazy fucker Cruz understood my problem way too well.
Ten hours from now, she’ll wake up in South Carolina.
I will show her an evil, ugly darkness that she never imagined.
This didn’t start as a sweet romance.
And we won’t end as one either.
9
The Battlefield
Echo
Darkness cloaks the shed as souls slumber without regret. Owls hoot in the woods, where I long to be, running away—leaves and twigs skirting under bare feet as I cross the water rushing in a creek with no recollection of what happened. I’m exhausted, but I must thoroughly reexamine his behavior again.
His unapologetic nature festers, inherent in his sins.
I will forget if granted—an escape.
Never to look back.
I make deals with God, the Devil, and Saints—
Please save me.
Get me out of this.
I am far too young to die.
Stop thinking like a victim, Abs.
I uncurl my fingers on the dusty floor as my eyes peer open, just a sliver, a minimalist peek. Filthy clothes enshroud my skin, stained by his achievements.
The dank and musty dwelling reeks of mildew in a dampened closet. I linger with an unappealing odor. The rusted chains attached to my ankles scrape along the crumbling cement floor.
The moonlight catches my eye as the rickety door cracks and squeaks to allow his passage. Time to slop his swine trapped within his cage. He notices the untouched lunch tray on the shoddy table as he brings in dinner.
“You didn’t eat,” he mutters, lifting the lid. “You must eat.”
“Your five-star meals don’t matter when the only place I can rest my head is the floor,” I openly protest, expecting the worst. “I need a bed.”
He snickers, walking closer and squatting down. His fingers move my straw-like hair from my eyes. “Are we negotiating, pretty girl?”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
“You eating and drinking are my chief concerns,” he says, sitting cross-legged on the ground when I note the frays of fabric surrounding his knee, near my nose. My mind is a blurry haze, and I don’t want to think about this man—the same flirtatious, good looking guy racing with me on the highway—as being a perpetrator. I want to forget, not remember. Freedom would bring immediate compulsory amnesia, self-induced.
Never to look back.
God, how I fucked this one up.
In overpriced ripped jeans and a black concert t-shirt, he doesn’t appear like I ever anticipated my offender would. In the shadows, I marvel at his strong jawline, cerulean eyes, and curly chocolate mop. Maybe
Selia was right. I’m not good enough to profile on the fly. A sexy smile and charm tricked me. He grins.
The bastard grins.
Straight white teeth, clearly cared for with appointments to dentists and orthodontists. His crisp, clean scent hints of aromatic woods and musk. “You want money?”
“If you want to know whether a ransom would release you, the answer would be no.”
“What will?”
“Time,” he replies, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “With you.” His expensive silver watch sparkles in the moonlight and catches my eye. “That is the only way you are getting out of this.”
“I need some guarantee that I am not dying.”
His lip twitches. “… Is that all you care about?”
A laugh erupts from my mouth. “Pretty much. Will I get out of this alive, or are you a sociopathic killer?”
“You’re in captivity to keep you safe from predators.”
“Like you?”
He laughs. “People never pay attention; they just turn and look the other way. I’m a wild animal—untamed and savage on the loose—and you’re a young, vulnerable host.”
The callous delivery of his statement infuriates me. “Do you plan on taking shelter in me? Finding nourishment? Invading my dwelling like a low-life squatter?”
His hand drops, and I jolt away, afraid of what his touch will bring. For days, I’ve wanted this stranger to inappropriately touch me—molest me—and now, I can’t even look him in the eye. Grazing the back of his fingers over my cheek, he whispers, “I promised you days ago—you will live. I’m not a murderer.”
I breathe a sigh of relief and make a bold accusation, “… Rapist?”
He smiles again.
I wish he would stop doing that, gloating like he has the upper hand, which he does. But I am offended, insulted by his arrogance. “There are worse things in the world than rapists, Sweet Pea.”
“Like crazy guys who chain up women like beasts,” I scoff as he firmly vices my cheeks between his forefinger and thumb, forcing me to look at him.
“Like sadists.”
My breath quickens. “Are you going to torture me?”
“Does the idea turn you on?”
“No!” I spit, nailing his high cheekbone. He releases his grip and pulls a handkerchief from his pocket. Spreading the fabric flat, near my face, he removes his watch before running his finger through the spittle, smearing it onto his tongue. His eyes close as he savors my saliva. “You’re…” I stop, unable to form a coherent thought.
“I’m what?” he snorts. “Tell me. Because I’ve heard it all before. Twisted? Maniacal? Deranged?” His brow arches with a suggestive innuendo. “Tell me how you feel because you’re lying.”
“I want a bed!”
He rolls his eyes and smirks. “If I bring you a bed, will you eat?”
It’s a taste of power—raw and alluring. I haven’t lost, and he hasn’t declared victory. His willingness to bargain is akin to swapping secrets on the playing field. He’s rigging the outcome in his favor, assisting my moves, benefitting his long-term strategy, and yet, I whisper, “You want the challenge.”
“It’s part of the fun,” he cackles, peering over me. “But eventually, you will need upkeep.”
“How long will my abduction last?”
“Over the summer,” he informs, dropping clues. “You start school in the fall. I won’t hold you back from your education.”
“Is this your idea of a hot summer romance?”
He licks his lips and smirks. “I don’t romance.”
I sass, “… Fling?”
He chuckles. “Unlikely.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because you asked for it,” he informs. “You deserve this. You earned it. Good job!”
“You’re an asshole.”
“You’ll be calling me far worse by August.” He leans over and kisses the top of my head before standing up. I latch onto his sneaker and blink, hoping to play into his perversion. “You should pray you’re in the house by then. The cottonmouths can be problematic.”
“The only snake I’m concerned with is the one slithering in front of me.”
His lips perk with a suggestive simper as he cackles, “You’re too young to win and too smart to forfeit.”
“I hate you, J.”
“I’m not surprised,” he remarks. “Nor do I care. You’re being punished whether you like it or not.”
“I’ll give you head,” I randomly blurt out. “You can have your way with me.”
“I plan on it, Sweet Pea,” he assures, staring at me. “But we’re doing this my way. You should be patient. Slow…methodical…disciplined…until you know better than to do what you did. Until you learn that sometimes the serpents in the grass bite back with an intoxicating venom.”
I sniffle as tears flutter in my lashes. “I never wanted this.”
“You did,” he growls, rummaging in the darkness of my soul like a thief. “You asked for this.”
Taking a breath, I toughen my resolve. “What do I have to do to go inside of the house?”
“Prove you’re not feral,” he growls. He is unmoved by my desperation to please—in whatever way he demands.
“Days with me didn’t prove that?”
“Not now,” he argues. “You won’t stay if I set you free. I’m not a fool. You will run right back to California and put the ad up again. You will end up six feet under. And I can’t let that happen.”
“I didn’t ask you to save me.”
He strokes his chin. “You didn’t need to ask.”
“You’re not some fucking superhero!” I angrily yell. “What do you want from me?”
A simper lifts from his lips. “It’s not what I want from you. It’s what I am taking…stealing. I’m only borrowing you for a little while.”
“For your own selfish needs!” I shout. “Dick!”
“Is that the best you have?” he rebukes as I’m unable to avert my eyes from his bold intimidation. It would greatly help my plight if he were gnarly and jagged-toothed. The difference in behavior versus physical appearance is outstandingly deviant—a deceptive lure I’m confident he has used before.
Fuck.
I’m such an idiot.
“Do you have a name?”
“Not one you have earned the right to know. If you want these things, you need to behave. Now, release my foot.” I reluctantly let go and clutch my stained fingers around the watch band. I press the cold, hardened steel to my lips and a wave of his scent hits my nose. “Eat,” he commands, pulling the journal out from under the platter. “And write. Document it. All of it.”
Rolling onto my back, I gawk, upside down, at his lean, well-kept physique. He isn’t some podunk nightmare or an uneducated disaster, but a monster to remember—a man to never forget. Shit. I will never get him out of my head. My lips part as I defiantly hiss, “You’re giving me what you think I want in a fucked-up fairytale.”
“Not at all,” he calmly growls. “I’m giving you more than you ever bargained for—to teach you a lesson.”
“If I pass your test, will I go unharmed, Professor?”
“Do no harm doesn’t exist in my vernacular.”
Jynx
“… J?”
In the doorway, I turn toward her lying on the floor—helpless and mine. “Yes?”
“You carried the box of wine, bought my gas, found hotel rooms, fed me better than I’ve ever eaten, and lavished gifts upon me. You fucking held my hand, so why am I on the floor of a shed?”
I stroke my overgrown scruff. “You wanted to be raped. I won’t let that happen. I’m teaching you a lesson that you will never forget.”
“This isn’t who you are.”
“You don’t know me, Echo.”
“You have a heart, and you care.”
Too much.
I care too much.
I step inside and crouch near her face.
“Do you want me to show you how little I care?”
“Whatever gets us to the end faster.”
“The end is when you change your thought process,” I inform, brushing my fingers over her matted hair. After three days, she stinks. I should take her up to the house for a bath since I sent Axel back to his place in Myrtle Beach. I don’t need his assistance with my summer project. “I have never killed anyone. I don’t plan on you being the first, but you must realize bright girls like yourself shouldn’t be holding up flashing, pointing arrows for the nightmare to come to you.”
“Just make this stop.”
“I won’t do that,” I thoughtfully contend. “Most people give anything to dream. But I would do anything to stop the nightmare.”
“I cannot help you if you’re treating me like an animal.”
“Precisely,” I reply. “Posting that ad, hunting for a criminal to hurt you, that was acting like an animal. Stop acting like an animal. And I will stop treating you as one.”
“Will you let me go then?”
I stare at her hazel eyes darkened with circles from exhaustion and dehydration. “You need to eat, drink, and take care of yourself, Echo. You wanted the lessons in the darkest mindset, and I’m giving it to you.”
“Let me go, J.”
“I can’t, Abby…”
“God! Don’t call me by my name.”
“… Is it that bad?”
“Yes, it is that bad,” she confirms, crying. “So, stay with me until we’ve purged my demons.”
“Prove to me that you are worth my time.”
“You’ve already declared when I’m leaving,” she reminds, clutching to my wrist. “You’re letting me go back to school.”
“I said I had never killed anyone, but I’ll take us both out if you don’t change your ways. Because I cannot walk this earth knowing that a sweet, decent girl like yourself is soliciting evil. I know my kind, Echo. We won’t just consume you; we will force you to be one of us. Change the mentality. Learn a new dialogue. Have some fucking self-respect.”
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