by Rowan Hanlon
So, she agreed. Huck found a house to rent and she began to pack a few bags. Within a week, they were on their way, headed south, headed to the warm, hot sunshine. The drive took a long, long time and they stopped whenever they began to feel tired, checking into hotels along the way. Huck never let her out of his sight and he’d scour the hotel rooms before he’d even let her in. He’d push back the shower curtain, look under the bed and even on the balcony, if the room had one, before it was “clear” to enter.
Soon enough, they were in the Keys and onto Key West. The house he’d rented was a conch style, painted a beautiful minty green and was small. However, it had been completely remodeled with very good materials and had a small lap pool in the back. A very small lap pool. Hadley got about four strokes in before she’d have to turn around and head back to the other side. Huck could get about two strokes in. Soon enough, they just sat in it to cool off and didn’t even attempt to swim that much. If they wanted to swim, they’d go into the beautiful ocean, which was just a few minutes away by foot.
The house was a few blocks from all the action, but far enough away that they didn’t get a lot of pedestrian traffic. They could walk to the best restaurants and, on occasion, they’d go out at night and walk hand in hand and people watch. There were always so many people who were partying and having the best times of their lives. In a way, Hadley was jealous of them because there was always that troublesome feeling in her that she wasn’t safe and that her abductor was somewhere out there waiting to come back for her. Because of this, she didn’t really rest that much. She rarely relaxed and she hated to let Huck out of her sight, which she knew was burdensome on him. For this, she felt guilty and wished she could break some of the fear, ease some of the panic and let go some of the dread that her life had become.
The only place that Hadley felt safe was in her car, her little yellow Mini Cooper. She would sometimes think that if she could have made it to her car that day then none of this would have happened. If she’d gotten away from him, she would have called in extra security for the hotel and she would have alerted the authorities. She could have given a description of him, as well, no matter how vague it might have been. It would have been over before it even began.
But, of course, that’s not what had happened. Not at all. Even so, Hadley would take the car out and drive for hours, mostly crossing the many bridges that separated the Florida Keys from the rest the world. Huck would always accompany her. They didn’t talk much during these drives. They only listened to the music she’d preloaded on her iPod.
During these drives, Hadley wondered how much longer she could hold out. She wondered how long it would take for her to either heal completely or go out of her mind. The days, though warm and mostly beautiful, were filled with long hours that no amount of reading or watching television or walking on the beach could overtake the boredom. She was also on edge and always a breath or so away from shaking uncontrollably. Or erupting in some way, usually by breaking down into sobs that lasted for hours. She cried so much, she wondered when she was going to run out of tears. How could the human body produce that many tears? It didn’t seem possible.
“When does it stop?” she asked Huck one day, staring at him from the small dining table.
“I don’t know, baby,” he said and smiled gently at her. “But I’m here for you.”
She nodded. “You don’t have to be, you know?”
“I know,” he said and leaned against the kitchen counter. “You’ve made that abundantly clear.”
“I mean it,” she said. “I feel like you’re going to miss out on so much of life because of me. I feel bad about that, guilty. And, honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever want to have sex again.”
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s don’t think about this right now. Let’s don’t talk about it. It’s fine, Hadley. I can do without it.”
She shrugged. She’d never known one man who could, but he said he could. She felt bad about it, too. So bad, so terrible and she felt that just by him staying with her put the pressure on. She couldn’t handle it. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to handle having sex again.
Huck sighed loudly and looked away. Then he turned back to her and said, “You want to go grab a bite to eat?”
She glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing it was nearly noon. She shook her head. “Not today,” she replied, then thought of something. She eyed him and wondered if he would go for it. So, as casually as she could, she said, “But why don’t you go?”
“You know I don’t like leaving you alone,” he said.
“It’s fine,” she said, thinking it was a good idea. If she started today, maybe even in a week or so she might be able to do other things alone. And she needed that. She needed some of her independence back. “I kinda need a break and I think you do, too. Why don’t you go and have a bite somewhere? You can bring me something back.”
“Are you sure you’re ready to take this step?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure. But she knew she had to. If she stayed trapped by fear much longer, she would never be normal again. She had to be brave, even if that meant shaking in her boots for a while, she had to do it. “I am,” she said, hoping she was exhibiting more confidence than she felt.
He stared at her. “Okay, but lock the doors and—”
“He’s not here, Huck,” she said. “He’s not here. I know that.”
“It’s always a good idea to be as safe as you can,” he said.
“It is and I will,” she replied. “Just go and have a good time, okay? Have a good time for me.”
He nodded. “Are you sure?”
“I am,” she said. “I think I’m ready. It’s been almost a year since all of this happened. I have to do this someday. Let’s do it today.”
“Only if you’re sure,” he said.
“I’m sure,” she said, though she wasn’t sure at all. But she knew she had to eventually break her dependency on him. It had to start today.
“Got your phone?”
She held it up.
“Okay,” he said. “I will be back in an hour or so.”
“No, take your time,” she said. “Take your time. If I need you or anything happens, I will call you. I promise. But I want you to have some alone time. We both need it.”
“I guess you’re right,” he said. “Familiarity does breed contempt.”
“Well, let’s not let it go that far,” she told him and almost laughed a little, but then, of course, she didn’t.
He crossed over to her and bent to give her cheek a quick peck. She fought off her initial urge to recoil from him and allowed it. She could tell he was pleased that she didn’t turn her head, as she usually did.
He whispered in her ear, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said and smiled at him. “Now go. I’m serious! You’re starting to drive me crazy.”
He chuckled a little and left the house, closing the front door softly on his way out. And she waited. She waited to become terrified. She waited to jump up and run after Huck, to call out to him to wait, to not leave her alone. She waited for the heart palpations and the awful feelings of panic to overtake her. She waited in vain. None of that happened. She was okay. If only for a few minutes, she was okay being alone.
“Wow,” she muttered to herself, feeling for the first time in a long time okay with this, okay with being alone. She exhaled loudly, realizing she’d been holding her breath waiting for something awful to happen. Then she stared at the door, almost sure Huck would come right back, telling her he couldn’t do it, that he couldn’t leave her alone. She wondered if she wanted this or if she wanted to take this brave first step that could mean freedom of her mind and her spirit. She decided she wanted freedom and just sat quietly, allowing her mind to just be calm with what was happening.
Suddenly, her phone rang vociferously. She shook at the noise and her heart began to race. She picked it up, saw that it was Huck and
almost considered not answering. But, of course, she did. “Yes?” she asked.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.
She wondered if he was more nervous about doing this than she was. She shook her head slightly and said, “Yes, I am. Thank you for calling.”
“Want a sloppy Joe?” he asked.
“That would be fantastic,” she said.
“So, what are you going to do?” he asked.
“Oh, my God, Huck!” she exclaimed, getting a little irritated. “Come on! I’m not going to do anything. If we’re just going to talk, then come home and I’ll go back out with you.”
“No, no,” he said. “I get it. I’m being overbearing. Just let me know if anything happens.”
“I will,” she said. “I promise.”
They hung up and she sometimes wondered if he blamed himself for her abduction. She didn’t know how he could, but he was so protective now it was becoming suffocating. And Hadley was not a homebody. She liked to be out doing things. Well, she did before she’d been taken. She hated that this had turned her into a hermit and an almost agoraphobic. She knew if they hadn’t come to Key West, that’s where the state of her mind might have landed. For that, she was very grateful for Huck, so she closed her eyes and thanked God for him and for letting her escape, something she did countless times a day.
Hadley opened her eyes and got up to go into the living room. It was small, but very comfortable with a smaller white sectional, a sisal rug and a big TV that sat on a black credenza. She grabbed the remote off the rattan coffee table and flopped on the couch. She was just about to the turn the TV on when she heard the knock.
She froze. Her heart began to palpitate and she glanced towards the dining table, a few feet away, where her phone was. She should have known better! She should have known! But she wanted to be brave and get over all this crap! And now there was someone at the door!
Another knock came, this one louder and teemed with impatience.
Hadley suddenly realized that if her captor were on the other side of the door, he certainly wouldn’t have knocked. She also realized her thoughts were irrational and that she was freaking out over a knock on the door. But who could it be? They didn’t know anyone in Key West, save for a few waitresses and bartenders at places they went to. All the houses that surrounded theirs were rentals and new people came and went on an almost daily basis.
So, who could it be?
Hadley shuddered. She had no idea. But she told herself to be brave and to get up and just look out the window and see who it was. She forced herself to do so, tiptoeing to the window beside the door. She pulled the curtain back just enough to get a look at who was on her doorstep. It was two women, both very pretty and very well dressed. One was tall and blonde and looked like a model. She was that pretty. The other was shorter and brunette and she was quite stunning. Her hair was parted in the middle and pulled back into a sleek ponytail. While they were both dressed casually, Hadley could tell their sneakers were very expensive and their cutoff jean shorts were of the higher brand. In fact, she, herself, had a few pairs like theirs. The brunette wore just a plain white t-shirt and the blonde had this very pretty boho top on with little blue strings hanging down from the neckline. Both had really cool, expensive looking sunglasses on.
“Oh, my God, Hadley,” the brunette said, her Southern accent coming out strong. “We know you’re in there!”
She turned and saw Hadley peeking through the window and shook her head with slight irritation. Hadley dropped the curtain and stepped back.
“How do you know my name?!” she hollered.
“We’ll tell you!” the blonde said. “Can we come in or not?”
Hadley had to think about that, hard and long. Who the hell were these women? Why were they banging on her door? Were they from the media? She stepped back to the window and threw open the curtain, glaring a little at them. They didn’t have any cameras or even clipboards or anything that would indicate they were from some television station or magazine wanting to get an interview. Hadley had not once agreed to do even one interview about her abduction. She just couldn’t handle it and the thought of some stranger asking pointed, invasive questions about what had happened to her made her very nervous. And she didn’t see the point.
However, these women weren’t from the media, she could tell. But who the hell were they? Why were they here? And they knew her name, which set her on edge. She sighed and then glanced across the street where there was a brand-new black Mercedes sedan parked, which, she guessed, was their car. It was a very nice car.
They turned and stared at her. The blonde gave her a very friendly smile. The brunette just crossed her arms and shook her head with annoyance.
“This is a long drive down here, girl,” she told her. “You gonna talk to us or not?”
Hadley stared at her in confusion. “Who are you?”
“Let me take this,” the blonde said.
“Why?”
“You’re being a little brash,” she told her.
“If we don’t talk to her now, her boyfriend will be back,” she said and gave Hadley a hard look. “We need to talk to you.”
“Just shut up,” the blonde hissed at her. She turned back to Hadley and said, “We just want to talk to you, that’s all.”
“About what?” she asked then leaned onto the window and really stared at them. They stared back.
“It’s getting really hot out here,” the brunette said. “If you don’t want to talk, we’re cool. But I can’t stand this heat anymore!”
“She might think we’re making this up,” the blonde said.
“Why would we make that shit up?” the brunette asked. “My name is Sloan Mitchell and this is Clara Simmons.”
Sloan Mitchell and Clara Simmons? Hadley had no idea who they were.
“We have a common enemy,” the brunette said and stared her dead in the eye. “He took us, too.”
The Light of Day
There were two things that Sloan Mitchell remembered from her abduction. The first was the room she was in. It was small, dank and smelled of old rotting food, though there was no food in the room that was rotting. There were no windows and only one door, a thick metal thing had once been painted an industrial green but had, over time, faded and rusted to an icky brownish color. The room was very dirty and very sparse. The second thing she remembered was the way her captor would enter the room, almost with a swagger, much like a man who’s got the confidence to introduce himself to any woman no matter how much out of his league she might be.
She hated him on sight. She hated his confidence and his swagger and the way he dressed, all in black, like some wannabe street artist who thought tagging railroad cars was a cool thing to do. She hated, most of all, that she was in this situation. She didn’t know how this had happened to her as she was a very guarded person. She’d been divorced—twice—and lived alone. She went to work at her job as an investment banker, came home, poured a glass of wine and sat in front of the TV until it was time to go to bed. She ate whatever was in the refrigerator or something she could order from a local restaurant and have delivered to her high-rise Atlanta, Georgia condo. Sloan was bright, tough and resilient. She didn’t mind spending time alone and rarely wanted for anything. She was head-strong and somewhat brilliant. So, for the life of her, she could not figure out how this son of a bitch had got her.
Had she been too nice to someone? Had she let someone in just a little? She didn’t know. She couldn’t put her finger on who this asshole was. Where the hell had he came from? She didn’t know many people who weren’t members of respectable society, even though she scoffed at them on an almost daily basis. Perhaps the bastard was her parents’ gardener or something. But, even so, she never really got a good look at his face, which she so wanted. Whenever her hands were free, she’d grab at that fucking hoodie and try to rip it off his sorry-assed head. But, alas, he was bigger and he w
as stronger. He was the alpha and he was determined to make her his beta.
Yes, she took his abuse but she loathed the sight of him. She told him as much and she even thought she had gotten to him a few times, which gave her an enormous amount of satisfaction. She was getting out of that fucking room and once she did, she would hunt him down and rip him apart piece by piece. Her visions of revenge got her through her stay in crap town. That’s all she could think about, how much she was going to hurt him, and how satisfying it would be once she did. When she wasn’t gagged, she never missed an opportunity to tell him, either.
“I am going to start with your dick,” she said once as she sat in her corner on the floor of that filthy room.
His head jerked around towards her, as if he hadn’t thought of that.
“And I’m not just going to rip it off you,” she said matter-of-factly. “I am going to take a dull knife and I am going—”
He backhanded her, beating her into submission.
She glared at him but was determined not to stop, even as blood ran out of her mouth and dribbled along her chin. She wiped her mouth on the shoulder of her shirt and continued, “And then I am going to start sawing on that miserable little fucker. I won’t stop and it will take a long, long time to get it off you. And once I do, I’m stuffing down your throat. But you’re not going to choke, not just yet. I am going to—”
Another backhand. This one made her head swim. She glared at him and decided that was enough for today. But then she realized something.
“You like that, don’t you, sick fuck?” she asked, seething. “You like me saying this shit to you. Don’t you?”
“Shut up, Sloan,” he muttered.
She loathed it when he called her by her name. This put fire in her belly and made her want to claw his eyes out. She hissed in a very condescending tone, “You think we’re friends here? On a first-name basis? You’re not good enough to wash my car. You know that and I know that. What makes someone like you think you can do something like this to me? How dare you?”