by Jenika Snow
He tilted his head to the side, staring at her. She seemed determined to get her point across that she was nothing like her father.
“Why the mask?” she asked.
“For a woman who is here against her will, you ask a lot of unusual questions.”
“It’s a flaw I have. I can’t stop asking questions. I always need to know everything. I’m scared.”
He watched her; completely enraptured by the strength she was showing him.
She let out a breath, and he noticed she was squeezing her thighs together.
“What’s wrong?”
“I really need to use the bathroom.”
“Is this a trick?”
“Please, I really need to go.”
He stared down at her, already prepared for this. Releasing her wrist, he locked another set of cuffs around her wrist and pulled it against her other one. He unlocked the other cuff and pulled her off the bed, keeping her tight. Her ankles were secured to the bed still but there was more than enough slack for her to ride around. Leading her over to the toilet he’d installed, he waited.
“I need help,” she said. “Can’t you untie me?”
Spinning her around to face him, he lifted her dress up, and then grabbed the edge of her panties.
“This is really uncalled for.”
Pulling her panties down her thighs to her knees before tearing them, he pushed her to sit down. She let out a little noise.
“You can’t expect me to do this in front of you,” she said.
“Yes.” He folded his arms. “Piss.”
“This is horrible. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
She let out a sob, and Mason gritted his teeth. He had to think of his sister and her needs. He had to do this. Her life depended on it.
Mason refused to think about what would actually happen if things didn’t go his way. He’d demand money and would, in turn, would hand his daughter back. All he wanted was a million dollars; that was all. It was small compared to her father’s wealth. One million dollars and no harm. He’d thought it all through.
What he hadn’t thought about were the feelings Olivia would inspire inside him. No, he wasn’t ready for that.
He heard her start to piss, and he stayed perfectly still. The gentleman inside him struggled to give her privacy.
She’s a means to an end.
He had to keep remembering that. If he thought it enough, he would.
When she was finished, he cleaned her up, during which she tensed and tried to back away from him.
He did the best he could, trying not to cross the line that he’d already drawn inside his mind.
It hadn’t been a full day yet, and he was already starting to see fault with his plan.
4
It hadn’t even been a full day, and Olivia felt like she’d ben here an eternity.
No privacy.
Fear consuming.
Intensity coming from him and spearing right through her.
He’d left the room an hour ago, and she’d heard the sound of a car outside starting and pulling away. A million things ran through her hard at that fact.
Had he left?
When was he coming back?
Is this a trick to see if I’ll escape?
Although she knew she wasn’t going to make any progress in her release, she couldn’t just sit here and wait for him to return.
She wanted to be strong, to appear strong, but the tears streamed down her cheeks, and her vision became blurry.
The sound of a car approaching had her heart racing. She was still, silent as she heard the car shut off, a door open and close, and then the sound of footsteps approaching.
Then the front door opened and closed, and she heard the footsteps coming closer to the room she was in.
She pressed her back to the wall, fearing what this man would do. When the door was finally opened, she held her breath as she stared at the man in the doorway. Olivia felt her anger rise, felt the tears stream down her cheeks faster.
“You’re a coward,” she screamed out. She couldn’t gauge his reaction. “You hide behind that damn mask.”
A moment of silence passed, and she felt the heat in the room rise.
And surprising her, but also scaring the shit out of her, he pulled off the mask that covered the lower part of his face and tossed it aside. She recognized him.
God, I should have kept my mouth shut, because now that he’s shown me his face, he won’t let me go.
Olivia kept her mouth shut as the intensity in the room increased. As they stared at one another for several long seconds, she actually felt this cord between them snap right in half.
“You think I’m weak?” he said in a deadly calm voice. He stalked toward her, but she was frozen in place, unable to move, let alone breathe. He reached down with his hand, wrapped it around her throat, and hauled her up. His hold was unyielding, but not tight enough that she couldn’t breathe. “Does this seem like a weak man?”
Olivia tried to claw at his hand.
He leaned in close and bared his teeth. “You need to realize your life is in my hands now.” He leaned in another inch and ran the tip of his nose along the side of her face and caused a shiver to work its way up her spine.
That shouldn’t have felt good in any sense of the word.
“Stop,” she whispered, but a part felt this emotion, this desire rise up in her. He was so scary to her, his body pressed right up against hers. She felt feminine, frightened, aroused… God, she was sick.
He leaned back and gripped her throat a little tighter. His cold, dark eyes grew hard and unyielding. The tears started up, but she didn’t know if she was crying because she was afraid, or if she hated that she wanted him.
He lifted his hand and ran the tip of his thumb over her bottom lip. Olivia hated how her body reacted. But she continued to stare at him, unable to break eye contact. He moved an inch closer, and she could smell his flesh and the scent of soap and sweat.
“I’m scared,” she managed to say.
“Good.” He leaned down until she felt his breath along her face. “You need to be really fucking afraid. I’m the one person that holds your life in his hands. You’d do well to remember that.”
5
Pushing Olivia away from him, Mason took a step back, putting his mask firmly in place.
“There’s no need to put the mask on. I already know who you are,” she said.
“You don’t have a clue who I am.”
There was no point in keeping the mask on. Removing the mask, he stepped away from her, closed his eyes, and tried to get his shit together. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. It was all about the money, and he had to remember that.
“Shut up.” He turned back around, scrunching the mask in his fist.
“You’re clearly not used to this. I don’t need to ask if you’re the reason I had the flat tire. It was.” She sat with her back against the wall. The rope around her wrists and ankles looked out of place. They were secured around the bed, but offered a great deal of movement. He wasn’t a total monster. He saw there were red marks where she’d clearly been pulling on them. Her hands right now were rubbing at her throat.
For a split second he was concerned because he’d not meant to hurt her.
Ignoring her, he moved back toward the stairs where he’d left the tray of food.
“You’re going to feed me? You’re not going to make me starve?”
“I have no intention of hurting you providing you play nice and be a good girl.” He put the tray of food on the bed and then grabbed her wrist, tugging her close. Wrapping his fingers back around her neck, he squeezed. “If you waste the food I’ve given you, you’ll fucking regret it.”
She gasped the moment he released her, and he took a seat beside the bed. “Why would I waste food?” she asked.
“I don’t know. If you think you can get away with shit, you’re fucking wrong.”
Olivia stared at him for a few moments befo
re looking down at the sandwich he’d made her. “If you’ve been watching me, and because you’re able to take me, I bet you were, you’d know that I help feed the homeless. I know how precious food is, and the last thing I would ever do is waste food.”
He frowned, turning toward her. “Why are you talking?”
She took a bite and shrugged, chewing. “I don’t know. I hate silences. It’s why I go to all of these different places, trying to fill the silences.”
“You don’t like silence?”
“I grew up in a house where talking wasn’t allowed. For my dad, having kids was because it was expected of him, but he didn’t like actually hearing them, or speaking to them, or even hugging them.”
Her gaze dropped to the plate, and she finished off half of the sandwich and then the other half.
“So you’re holding me for ransom. That seems like a safe topic to talk about. You’re going to be lucky.”
“Why?”
“I’m the most hated in the Redman’s household.” She pointed at her face. “Look at me. I’m a monster.”
“You’re not a monster.”
“Ha. My father calls me a useless waste of good air and space.” She shrugged. “I’m used to it.” She held her finger us as she finished chewing. “The only good I do is by keeping to myself and trying to make a difference in the world. He tries to make out to the media that I’m some Good Samaritan because he’s encouraged me to be so.”
“He hasn’t encouraged you?” he asked.
“No.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Dad believes anyone who costs money and doesn’t help him should be shot dead. They’re a waste of space.”
“Wow.”
She laughed. “You’ve kidnapped me. Do you really think he’s going to give you money for a waste of space like me?”
He stared at her, knowing that she wasn’t lying. She truly believed she wasn’t any good.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Folding his arms, he watched her. She tucked some hair behind her ears, and he just couldn’t understand what the hell she was doing. He’d kidnapped her, and she was being nice to him. She wasn’t even throwing the plate at him, or smashing it and stabbing him.
“Can I stop you?”
“I guess not. You can just choose not to answer. Why do you need the ransom?”
“None of your business.”
“It is. I’m here.”
“I can still hurt you.”
She pointed at her face. “I’ve had worse. You see the damage to my face, but I also had to have several surgeries on my legs.”
“Oh.” He’d not known that.
“Yeah, so I’ve been in pain a lot of the time.”
Now he felt fucking bad. Had he hurt her legs? Fuck, she was getting to him, and she wasn’t even trying.
“The sandwich you made was nice. I love to cook. When I’m not helping the homeless, or at the animal shelter, or at the youth hostel, I’m in the kitchen, cooking. I love cookies, oh, and cakes.”
“I’ve got to go.”
“Oh, okay. See you soon.”
He frowned and hesitated for a second. This woman had some serious problems. He grabbed the tray and made his way upstairs. What the fuck was happening to him? He couldn’t even bring himself to hurt her now. She’d been in a great deal of pain. Why hadn’t he known about the injuries to her legs?
Feeling like the worst kind of shit, he fired up his laptop and started to do a quick search on her. So far, no one had reported her missing.
Online there was nothing about her legs or any detail of the accident, which happened when she was about twelve, other than the damage to her face.
Sitting back in his chair, he stared at the computer. Olivia’s reaction to the situation was not what he’d anticipated. In fact, it was the complete opposite to what he’d planned. She didn’t scream at him. She talked to him.
Stretching out his arms, he rubbed at his eyes, and wondered what the hell he’d done to deserve this. It was his sister he was supposed to be taking care of, not this woman. He couldn’t allow himself to feel sorry for Olivia.
Pulling up a family photo, he studied Redman. There was no love there, no connection as he stood there with his wife and daughter. Olivia looked like she was there merely to make up the numbers.
Shutting down his laptop, he closed his eyes.
What the fuck had he done?
6
Maybe if she played nice she’d survive this? Maybe if Olivia pretended like everything was okay. Like she was a human just like her captor? She closed her eyes, breathed out slowly, and thought about the fact she’d told him about the problems she’d had while growing up. Maybe she shouldn’t have done that, but trying to reach him on an empathetic level, and make him see she was a human, seemed like the right call.
She moved so she could sit on the edge of the bed. The restraints securing her were loose enough she could move slightly, but not enough that she could stand.
Her head hurt, her body felt like it had been put through the ringer. She didn’t know what was going to happen, but what she did know was that she didn’t want to die.
If playing along meant staying alive, then she’d do that. She’d be the best fucking actress in the world if it meant making this man see her as something more than a paycheck.
Mason was losing his fucking mind when it came to Olivia. He’d showed her his face, and now he had to figure out how in the hell he was going to go through with this. He shouldn’t give a shit about how she felt, her past, or that she was hurt back in the day. But the fact she’d admitted she was mistreated, that her family didn’t even see her as their child, but more of a status achievement and a burden, had rage burning inside Mason.
He stared out the window over the kitchen sink. The sun was starting to set, the second day winding down.
He turned away and went over to the papers. He’d gone out to see what was being said, because he knew despite what she said— that her family didn’t see her as anything of worth— they’d still make a big case about it.
Her family would still take this to the media, still appear as if they were ready to do anything and everything to get her back.
And that’s when he’d make things known and let them know what he wanted.
He stared at the newspapers on the table and saw the headlines about Olivia Redman being missing, taken from the vet clinic.
He thought about that: how easy it had been to just toss her in the back of the van.
God, it had been too fucking easy.
Mason picked up the paper and went back into her room. He opened the door, saw her sitting there, staring at the wall, and he felt something tighten in his chest. He didn’t like doing this to her, even if inside, he told himself he needed to be a hard bastard. He had to be stronger, to show her she was nothing more than a piece of property.
She was here because family came first. Always.
But she’d never known that, at least that’s what she said.
He hardened himself, put on a blank face, and pushed any empathy down. Moving toward her, he saw her eyes widen, could practically smell the fear coming from her.
“I won’t hurt you as long as you behave,” he said for what felt like the hundredth time. He tossed the paper down beside her, and she looked at it. “Your family has alerted the media.”
She glanced up at him. “It’s for show,” she said with no emotion.
“Show or not, they will get you back and probably pay whatever I ask.”
Mason clenched his jaw and left her in the room, knowing it was time to make contact.
She waited until he left before she looked down at the paper again. The sight of her image splashed across the biggest paper in the city had her heart clenching. Olivia picked it up, looked at the image of her mother and father, the fact they clutched at each other, and squeezed the paper in her hand.
Mr. and Mrs. Redman would pay anything for the safe return of their daughter, the paper
said.
They’d find whoever did this and make them pay, it was reported.
Olivia could only shake her head. In front of the papers it looked like her mother and father were distraught, but she knew better. They were doing this for show.
Olivia was disgusted. She tossed the paper away, wanting to scream out, but instead, she lay back down, curled up in a ball, and cried.
She cried for her situation.
She cried because she was heartbroken and scared.
And she cried because her reality was a living darkness inside of her, swallowing her whole.
How sad was it that being here with her captor sounded a hell of a lot better than what awaited her out there in the “real world”?
7
For days nothing happened. Mason continued to feed her and watch and wait. The news continued to report her missing, and although he planned on getting in contact with her family right away, he was seeing how this played out. He wanted her family desperate for her by the time he called.
With his sister’s health declining, he couldn’t wait much longer.
He thought about Olivia.
Not once had she fought him. When he took her to the toilet or washed her, she was submissive, docile even. He hadn’t given her a bath, simply allowed her to wash swiftly. That was all. He did turn his back to give her as much privacy as he could, but if she wasn’t restrained, she wasn’t left alone.
But why hadn’t she shouted at him?
Screamed?
Tried to get away?
Sitting in her room now, he’d brought in a small television for her to see the news of her disappearance. Every now and then he heard her snort or laugh at her father’s speeches.
“Why do you keep doing that?” he asked.
“Because it’s all a game to him. Always has been and always will be.” She took another bite of her sandwich. “You see, when he says they’re worried sick, he knows that this will do wonders for sympathy. I bet his stocks have doubled in the last week. Makes me sick.”