Sing for Me

by Penelope Reece

  Judging by the chill and the impenetrable darkness that gathered above the skylight, she guessed it was probably after nine o’clock. Above her, the moon had disappeared from view making the church darker than before.

  She couldn’t remember when or how she’d come to be inside the Delta Gamma Church. She hadn’t been sure that’s where they were, so she’d asked him. He’d answered her truthfully even telling her how he’d changed his name to Daniel Erikson.

  Try as she might the memory of her abduction was wrapped up within a hazy mist. Every so often, she’d get a peek at something before it disappeared back inside the fog. The one memory that seemed to be immune to the fog was one that she wished to forget. While the drug had still held her submissive, he’d stripped her naked and dressed her in the ivory gown. She prayed that’s all he’d done, but she couldn’t be sure.

  It had been hours since he’d stolen her, surely the police were out looking for her. Rhys would be looking for her. Did he know Earon had taken her? A horrible thought stuck her. Perhaps they thought she’d run away. How could they know she’d been abducted? The lights had been off. There was no way anyone could have seen. She prayed they’d find her anyway even though she wasn’t sure how.

  It was all her fault. How could she have ever believed herself really free of him? She knew now that she’d never be free. Hadn’t she felt his presence these past few months? Somehow he’d survived that fire and followed her here.

  He’d follow her anywhere.

  Even if she did escape, she’d never be rid of him. Not even death could stop him. There was no way she’d be able to get away this time. This wasn’t the theatre. There was no one here to help her. It was only the two of them. Her worst nightmare had come true. Bile filled her throat. He was going to rape her again. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  Tears stung her eyes, but she fought them off. She couldn’t let Earon see her crying. It would only make him want to comfort her, to touch her. She needed to stay calm. She needed to figure out a way to escape.

  With her eyes fixated on the fried chicken sitting uneaten on the other side of the table, Chloe blinked her tears away and pushed her arm tightly against her stomach to combat her feelings of hunger. With her other hand she wiped at the rogue tear on her cheek.

  “This dress is too tight. I can hardly breathe.” She pulled at the crocheted lace on the bodice to allow some air between her skin and the dress.

  “You’re welcome to take it off.” Earon gave her a knowing grin and took a bite of his chicken.

  “And be naked? No.” She shook her head.

  He huffed out a laugh then grabbed her plate tilting it up to give her a better view. “Aren’t you going to eat? I know how much you like this type of greasy food. You must be starving. Come.”

  She jiggled her foot causing the chain that connected her ankle to the heavy chair leg to rattle. Earlier when his back had been turned toward her, Chloe had attempted to lift the chair leg thus freeing the chain. Much to her dismay, the chair had been nailed to the floor making escape impossible. “How can I?”

  “I would say that all you need do is promise you won’t escape. But I know the quality of your promises. Or should I say lies?” He left the table and grabbed her wrist pulling her to her feet. “Come to the table and eat. The chain will reach.”

  “I’m not hungry.” She turned her face away from those horrid orange eyes. How could she have ever thought them beautiful? How could she have ever had feelings for him?

  He grabbed her chin forcing her to look at him. “You must eat.”

  “Why?” She grabbed the hand under her chin and held it. “Because you’re going to drug me again?”

  Jerking his hand away from hers, he raised it as if to strike her. She flinched. He scowled down at her showing his teeth. “I wouldn’t need to drug you if only you’d succumb to me.” He lowered his hand to caress her cheek. “Until that time comes, I’ll make you forget how you hurt me.” He grabbed her wrist and jerked her toward the table. “Now come eat!”

  He forced her down onto the antique dining chair. She eyed the drink in front of her, wondering if he’d drugged it. He probably had, just as he’d somehow forced her to drink the tainted water last night.

  Earon took a sip from his own cup, his eyes staring at her, watching her, waiting.

  With a sigh, Chloe closed her eyes and shook her head still not yet ready to resign to such a fate. “Earon, please… just let me go.”

  He slammed his fist down on the table making her muscles jerk. Her eyes shot open, wide and full of fear. “Why must you keep me here? What do you want from me?”

  “You know what I want!” With the speed of a jungle cat he was at her side, his hand fisted in her hair painfully.

  “And what is that?” She asked gritting her teeth against the pain.

  “You’re love.” Earon said the words gently. He brought the cup to her lips. “Now drink. I wish to hear my angel’s voice while I eat.”

  ****

  Rhys leaned against the building and glared at the two officers standing guard. He was being treated like a criminal all because he wanted the police to stop dicking around and do something.

  “How long am I going to be in time out?”

  “Until you calm down,” one of the officers replied.

  “You know the longer you guys stand here doing nothing, the more time that bastard has to hurt her.”

  “We’re only doing our job.”

  He wanted to argue, but it would only get him cuffed and thrown into the back of a squad car. The detective had all but thrown that possibility at him as the two cops took him outside.

  Chloe. He said her name over and over as if that alone would lead him to her. He could feel himself slipping into a frantic neurosis. Anger, guilt, and fear tore at him making him want to scream and pound his fists on the concrete. And for the first time in his life he felt like curling up into the fetal position and weeping.

  Chloe could be hurt or worse and he had no idea how to reach her. And that scared him shitless. She was in danger, and there was not a damned thing he could do about it. He felt as useless as the cops. He didn’t know the first place to look. For all he knew they could be heading out of the state at this very moment.

  How long were they going to hold him? Surely they couldn’t keep him for much longer. As soon as those two nitwits stepped aside, Rhys would go looking for her himself. It was a hasty decision, but he’d rather be doing something rather than standing here watching the police do nothing.

  One of the many glass doors that led into the lobby opened and Sophie stepped outside. She carried herself as if she were royalty. Her hair was styled in elegant waves cascading down her shoulders. Her fur coat hung open to reveal the expensive black dress beneath. Diamond jewelry glittered from her ears and neck. She looked every bit like the star ballerina, as if she were just leaving her own performance instead of someone else’s.

  Sophie would be about fifty now, but thanks to the wonders of cosmetic surgery she had the plastic face of false youth. He could see a little of Chloe in her face. They both had those stunning green eyes, high cheekbones, and small noses. However, where Chloe’s features were softer and fuller, Sophie’s were harsh and thin.

  She was skinner than Chloe which made her look as if she hadn’t eaten anything in months. He figured she was anorexic, most ballet dancers suffered from one or more eating disorders. The life of a ballet dancer, of a ballerina, was grueling at its best. It had a way of making you hard, and Sophie looked like stone. She had a selfish and uncaring face.

  He couldn’t believe Chloe could have such a mother like Sophie and weren’t it not for those eyes, he could pretend they had no relation at all. They were expressive eyes. On Chloe, they were an open window to her every emotion. On Sophie they sparkled in a haughty disdain. And they were pointed in his direction.

  He waited until she approached. “What do you want?”

  “To talk,�
� she said. Her French was still heavy and prefect as if she hadn’t spent the last eighteen years in America. Being proud of her French nationality, she never wanted to be seen as anything else.

  “Then talk.” He said, indifferent, as his eye bore through her.

  Sophie pursed her lips. “Would you gentlemen please excuse us?” She flashed the officers a pleading smile that no fool could say “No” to.

  “Alright, but we won’t be far,” an officer said and glared in Rhys’s direction. “You better just watch yourself.”

  When the officers stepped back toward their cars, Sophie turned those green eyes on him. “You really believe Earon took my daughter?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t?”

  “He’s dead. He died over a year ago. Don’t you know that?” She asked, her voice condescending.

  He scoffed. “You don’t honestly believe that. You saw the masks. If not Earon than who? Was there more than one obsessive psycho in her life?” When she made no answer he went on. “You know that man better than anyone. Where would he take her?”

  “Why would I know this? You think he and I are working together? You honestly believe I would give that man free reign to hurt my daughter?”

  “You did before.”

  He saw something in her eyes then, a hint of guilt and something else, but it was gone as quick as it had come.

  “I am a mother,” she said as if trying to do more than convince him. “I had no part in this.”

  She stared at him with narrowed eyes, silently challenging him to not believe her. He would have thought she was lying had he not seen the way her hand shook as it gripped the front of her coat. Beneath all that hard steel, was a woman generally strained. Whether it was anxiety over a lover or a daughter, he couldn’t tell.

  Rhys turned away from her to stare out into the parking lot. The red and blue flashing of the police cars seemed almost hypnotic in the darkness.

  He could stand here and argue with Sophie to his heart’s content, but where would that get him? If he so much as raised his voice to her, those two smitten officers would have him thrown into the back of a squad car within seconds. He shouldn’t waste his time on a woman like Sophie. All that mattered was Chloe’s safety and he wasn’t going to get any help from this woman.

  Just thinking about what Chloe had gone through in the past, right under everyone’s noses, made him lose his mind. She had endured so much in secret, never daring to speak out against her captor.

  And now she was back with that psycho. If Earon truly cared for Chloe, he’d let her go. If Earon loved her, then he’d put her needs first. He’d cherish her and protect her. He’d even die for her.

  If it meant she’d be safe, Rhys was prepared to give his life. Given the chance, he’d die for her. He knew that now. And it did nothing but make him more wretched.

  A shrill beep echoed through the night. One of the officers put his walkie-talkie to his mouth. “What is it?”

  “We got a call from the Delta Gammas again.” A voice crackled through the speaker.

  The officer groaned. “What is it now? More ghosts popping out to say ‘boo’?”

  “Yep, only this time the girls say the ghosts are singing.”

  ****

  Chloe’s voice rang out, an ethereal melody filling the church. Her body swayed as the drug sang through her blood stream. Her vision began to blur. She grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself.

  Earon was seated cross-legged on the table, two crystal balls spinning idly in his hands. She watched them, enraptured by the way they caught the light sending flecks of sparkling crystal bouncing back at her.

  She was singing the aria from La Triviata, a song Earon had forced her to practice over and over again when they were alone in her dressing room together.

  As she sang, the drug humming its own inebriated melody within her, Chloe began to believe she was Violetta singing for freedom while being tempted by love. Should she give in to the desires of her heart, or should she push it aside?

  She was Violetta and there sitting on the table, his voice joining hers, was her Alfredo. But something wasn’t right. The balls continued to turn around and around, the glittering light hypnotizing, confusing her. Her voice wavered slightly.

  Her insides boiled like a pot over the fire. Her head felt so light, as if it were a balloon floating away. Her chest constricted in the tight corseted bodice of her gown. She couldn’t breathe. Like Violetta she was dying.

  Her eyes widened in fear, as she tugged at her bodice. Her voice was a high pitched croak as she gasped for cool air that just wouldn’t come. As she collapsed onto the stone floor, the shiny crystal balls tumbled down to join her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Chloe opened her eyes to complete darkness and sat bolt upright. The cool wash cloth covering her forehead and eyes fell onto her lap. She was on the bed and dressed in a long thin chemise.

  When she’d sat up the duvet slid away from her, exposing her bare arms to the cold. Feeling naked she crossed her arms over her chest covering the delicate lace that covered her breasts.

  Her eyes searched for Earon. He’d undressed her again. How much longer would this continue until he did more than change her clothes?

  She spotted him over by one of the smaller normal paned windows. His back was to her as he stared out into the night. Her eyes moved past him to the door. At first she considered sneaking up on him and knocking him out. As her eyes scanned the room, there wasn’t anything she could wield as a weapon.

  If she were quick enough though, she could get to the door. Then what? She’d never been much of a runner. His legs were longer. How far could she possibly get before he caught her? She might not be fast but she had healthy lungs and she could scream. Someone would surely hear and call the police.

  Silently, Chloe pushed the blankets back and stood up. She was instantly dizzy. She closed her eyes for a moment and steadied herself. Her legs felt weak. It was probably the lasting effects of the drug.

  Earon was still preoccupied at the window. Taking a deep breath, she crept across the floor and was grateful for all the hours her mother had forced her to spend learning ballet.

  She stepped delicately across the floor. Her bare feet glided over the cold stone floor. Her eyes stayed glued to Earon’s back.

  Holding her breath she moved past him. Her heart was like a drum and she feared he’d hear. Vaguely, she wondered what he was thinking about, but she pushed her curiosity aside. Whatever it was, she didn’t care. Her freedom was far more important than his disturbed mind.

  Near the dining room table, she eyed the crystal candlestick and pictured it crashing down on his head. One strong strike and she’d be free of him forever. If she were to choose that route then she’d have to sneak back toward him. She couldn’t take the chance and risk him seeing her. She didn’t think she could do it anyway. Even if he did deserve it, Chloe didn’t think she could be a murderer.

  When her hands touched the door, her entire body trembled with joyous anticipation. All she had to do was open it and run.

  If she were lucky she could be at the edge of the cemetery before he even noticed and by then he’d never be able to catch up to her.

  Chloe glanced back to make sure Earon hadn’t seen her. The view from the window still held his attention. Her heart beat faster. She was going to make it. She was going to get away.

  Her gaze fell onto the deadbolt and her stomach dropped. There was no carpet, only cold stone and hard wood. If she turned the lock, the click would echo.

  She’d have to hurry. Once she’d flipped the lock, he’d grab her in no time. Her hand shaking, she reached for the lock and ever so slowly twisted it. The lock retreated into the door. It was a new lock, the click barely discernable to her ears. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “My dear, where are you going? You’re not dressed appropriately.”

  She shrieked. Earon was standing directly behind her, so close she could feel
his body heat through her silk nightgown. Frightened, she jerked the door open to escape but he already had his arm around her pulling her back.

  “Let me go,” she screamed and thrashed against him.

  When her elbow connected with his stomach, Earon grunted and threw Chloe to the floor. He slammed the door with such ferocity that it shook in the frame. His orange eyes burned as he rounded on her. Grabbing her arm he jerked her to her feet.

  “You will not leave me,” he snarled. “You will stay. You will love me.”

  “I’d rather die!”

  He struck her. The blow sent her careening to the floor in pain and shock. She held her cheek and bit back the pain. “I’ll never stop trying to escape. No matter what you do, I won’t stop. You might as well kill me.” Earon raised his hand again and she stuck her chin up in defiance. “Go ahead.”

  Her eyes bore into his as she waited for the strike that never came. Instead he dragged her to the back of the church and flung her onto the bed. Before she could scamper away he was on top of her, his hands pressing hers into the mattress. She jerked beneath him, his pelvis grinding into hers.

  “Please don’t do this,” she cried.

  His tongue ran wet across her lips before trailing down to her neck. She struggled but couldn’t break his hold. A wave of nausea rolled through her at the realization that he was going to rape her. Bile churned in the back of her throat. She begged him to stop. Passing her wrists to one hand, he brought his other down to the tender place between her thighs.

  Nearby came the sound of a car door slamming. Earon pulled away from her, his attention drawn to the window. He frowned “Did you hear that? I do believe someone is here.”

  Chloe pulled herself up, her eyes following Earon’s to the window. Had they found her? Was it Rhys? Her heart soared with the possibility of being saved. In her desperate excitement Chloe screamed for help, her voice shrill as it echoed through the church.

  “Shut up,” Earon snapped and backhanded her with such force that her neck snapped back. She sunk to the mattress dazed. Her head spun and her vision blurred.