A Certain Intimacy

by Blythe Stone

  He stepped back but held onto her tighter, shaking her a little.

  “Uh uh, baby, I’ve got you now and we’re gonna have a good talk before I take you back home,” he said.

  He came closer again and pressed his front into her back. She felt the hardness, his muscles and something else that she never wanted to imagine. He showed her what was in his free hand, a large knife, the kind you use for hunting.

  “Now, stay quiet or I’ll have to use this. I gutted a deer with it not that long ago so you know that I can use it in places that won’t mess up your pretty face,” he said.

  “Who are you?” She gasped.

  “I’m your boyfriend. Don’t you know me?” He laughed and rubbed his body against her back so she would feel the bulge in his jeans. “I’m gonna put you on the right path so you go to heaven with me,” he said and kissed her neck.

  Her face scrunched into a disgusted mess and she struggled again, trying with all of her strength to get away.

  “Now, now, just calm down. I’ve got you. We’re gonna leave here through the back door. Do you know how long I’ve been planning this?” He asked.

  All of her instincts were telling her to yell so she did.

  “Help!”

  He clamped his hand over her mouth and pushed the knife into her side just enough to let her feel how sharp it was. It pierced the blouse and poked into her skin, drawing blood.

  “What did I tell you?” He shook her again. “If you don’t cooperate with me I’m gonna go back and kill that girl you’ve been going around with. I’ll fucking gut her and make you watch if you’re not careful,” he threatened.

  She went limp in his arms and he chuckled.

  “You gonna be good?” He asked.

  She nodded and let him drag her away from the sinks. The threat to Nat’s life had done it. If it was just her she would scream and fight but if he went near Nat it would kill Iris more than this lunatic ever could.

  “Come on, honey, we’re gonna have a great life. You just wait. Now, you’ve gotta walk regular like we’re just going out back for a chat or something,” he instructed.

  She nodded again and they walked out of the bathroom. He slipped the knife into his waistband and took her arm, walking her back out into the main hall and away from the lobby. Iris’s breathing was heavy and her heart raced as she looked around for any escape but saw nothing. There were no people, everyone was up near the theater.

  They reached the end of the hallway and took a right. It was dark back here, all except for a bright red sign that said EXIT. In one last attempt to get away, Iris tried to run. She got away, tearing her arm from his grip but in another two seconds and three strides later he jumped on her and they landed like that. All of the air wooshed out of her lungs and she started to cry. He had her. He really did.

  He hauled her up and spun her around, gripping her arms. For the first time she saw his face clearly in the red glow of the sign. He had two days worth of growth on his face and his eyes were wild. His blonde hair was short but growing out like he needed to have it trimmed. She spat in his face and he tightened his grip.

  It would bruise, she knew that.

  “You stop that,” he growled through gritted teeth.

  He let go of her arm and reached out for her blouse, using it to wipe the spit off his cheek.

  “We’re going,” he ordered.

  When he shoved her towards the exit she almost fell into the door but he caught her and opened it with his other hand, pushing her out into the night and onto the concrete of a parking lot. Behind the theater were a few loading docs and a lot where staff parked. It was half full today and there was a fancy pickup truck off to the side. It was sleek black and had huge tires on it.

  He dragged her over to the truck and unlocked the doors with a key fob. He opened the passenger side door and pushed her up onto the bar that went along the base of the door.

  “Get in,” He said.

  She climbed into the cab and sat down. He closed the door and ran around to the other side. She tried to open the door and run away but it was locked. Her eyes searched for the button to unlock the door but there was none. He had removed it. Tears streamed down her face.

  He opened the driver’s side and hopped up into the truck, closing the door and turning to smile at her.

  “I’m so glad you agreed to come with me,” he said, reaching over to take her hand.

  She shuddered and didn’t grip his hand, letting it lay limp in his.

  “I don’t even know who you are,” she spat back.

  “Billy is my name but my parents call me William. You can call me either one. William sounds more respectful though. I’d like it if you called me that,” he said.

  He started up the truck and it roared to life. The big engine sounded so powerful. She swallowed hard and tried not to look at him but she needed to figure out clues, maybe she could manipulate him into letting her go.

  Her phone! She’d taken her bag with her to the bathroom and must have left it there.

  “Fuck,” she whispered.

  Chapter 28

  Smoke & Mirrors

  Nat sat still inside the theater and tried not to be the paranoid girlfriend. The movie was playing great. People were obviously into it but Nat couldn't concentrate. She bounced her knee, unsure of how long she should actually wait.

  Michael leaned in toward her. “Is she okay?”

  Nat let out the breath she'd been holding. “I'm gonna check,” she said, giving in to her anxiety and hurrying to go look for her.

  It was probably nothing. Maybe her period started and she needed a tampon.

  Nat booked it out of the theater and found the bathroom. “Iris?”

  There was only one stall taken. “Not Iris,” a voice said.

  Nat could hear the woman pulling toilet paper off of her roll.

  “Okay,” Nat sighed. There was probably another bathroom or maybe Ellie called and Iris answered. A little thing could really upset Iris. Nat knew that.

  Nat walked out and found one of the festival staff. “Hi. Um. Quick question. Is that the only bathroom for this theater?”

  “There's a small employee bathroom,” the woman said. “And the men's room.”

  “So, that's it?” Nat said.

  “Afraid so. Is there a problem?”

  Nat thought for sure there'd be another set of restrooms on the opposite end of the lobby but that wasn't so.

  “Uh. There might be,” she said, getting nervous. “Gimme a minute.”

  Nat looked to the doors and the lobby. People must be in the theaters. Not hanging around needlessly or talking shit in large groups like at some festivals.

  “Weird,” Nat thought. But this was a smaller one.

  The open space reminded Nat of the day before and how easy it was for Iris to run outside and find a place to stay.

  Her feet carried her out of the lobby. People stood in lines and littered the parking lot.

  Nat looked left and right and didn't see her.

  “Where are you?” She asked the air.

  Nat started to walk toward the side of the theater. If she went back inside and Iris still wasn't there Nat knew she was going to make a scene and flip out. She took her phone from her pocket and dialed her girlfriend. Every second that passed was its own eternity.

  “Hello?”

  Nat stopped.

  “Uh- hi,” Nat said. The voice wasn't familiar.

  “Are you looking for your bag? You left it in the bathroom.”

  “What?”

  “I'm just going to leave the bag and your phone with the theater staff.”

  “Right. Um. No. Wait. I'll be right there.”

  Nat hung up the phone and started to walk back in toward the bathroom.

  “Oh. Wow,” the woman said. She was waiting at the mirror. When she noticed who had come to claim the bag she was star-struck. “You're um. I love you,” the lady laughed and blushed. “I mean. Your work. I love your work.”
<
br />   “Thanks,” Nat said, walking close and taking the phone and the bag.

  “Can I get a selfie?”

  “Of course,” Nat said. It was a lot easier going through the motions than trying to fight everyone and everything. She leaned in and waited, finding a fake smile and slapping it on.

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Oh no, thank you,” Nat said. “These are my girlfriend's.”

  “Oh. Wow.” The woman said, looking down at the bag and phone like they were somehow more precious.

  “Well. Um. Thanks again,” Nat said. “I've gotta go.”

  “Bye,” the woman said, her voice slipping after Nat's exiting body.

  This was not okay.

  Why would Iris leave her things in the bathroom?

  Nat power-walked back into the theater. This was it. If Iris had not come back to her seat there was a problem. A real problem.

  She walked to the end of the aisle and stared down. Michael noticed and lifted his hands up in the dark. Iris wasn't there.

  “What is it?” Brian asked.

  “Iris is missing,” Nat said, staring into him. “I found her things in the bathroom.”

  Brian looked down at the objects. “Yeah but doesn't she do this? Run off?”

  They were at a screening and both acting unprofessionally. Getting up and leaving. Making a scene. Nat never did these things at a festival screening. In fact, she was under contract not to do them. It would have to be an emergency.

  “No,” Nat realized. “I think we need to call the police.”

  If someone had Iris. That person could do anything to her and that was definitely not okay.

  “Let's go,” Brian said, taking charge and leading her out of the theater and into the lobby. Witnessing the fear on Nat, he took hold of Nat's upper arm and guided her out.

  When they got to a festival employee, Brian took over. He was a protective lion when he needed to be.

  Natalie stood beside him in a state of disrepair. All of a sudden, her brain refused to connect thoughts. She'd been through too much now for her rational mind to imagine that something horrible had not occurred. The outlook was dim. Of course she would meet someone amazing and immediately lose them. Why hadn’t she known?

  Chapter 29

  How to Escape

  They had driven miles and miles. Iris could only watch the scenery go by and try to block out the sound of her kidnapper as he hummed to himself. He was very pleased and occasionally he would turn and grin at her. A spooky ominous grin. A grin that spoke only of confusion.

  “Once we get home you're gonna meet mom and she'll help you settle in. Don't worry, our room is all set up,” he said happily.

  Iris barely registered what he was saying. It just compounded the fear. At least he wasn't planning to kill her… yet.

  “We're gonna stop on the way to get some rest. I know I'm tired. All that planning and waiting.”

  Iris shuddered and shrank away when he reached out to stroke her hair.

  “Aww, come on. We're gonna be married and all,” he cooed.

  “Fuck you,” Iris spat.

  “Soon enough,” he laughed.

  Iris shrank into the smallest space she could, inhabiting a quartet of the seat she occupied. Occasionally, she still tried the door and fiddled with the lock mechanism just in case.

  It didn't work but it was all she could do. Nat had to be flipping out by now. She was safe though. That kept Iris going.

  The stress and fear finally caught up and she began to get tired. Fifty miles later, her head was hanging. The only thing keeping her awake was his presence.

  She let herself rest for a moment and closed her eyes, not to sleep but just to rest. The truck swerved right and her eyes snapped open.

  They were taking an exit. She perked up and looked around, trying to tell where they were. If she could get word to someone then she better know where they were.

  He pulled into the parking lot of a cheap motel and parked out front. He opened the door and looked over at her.

  “I'll be right back,” he said.

  He closed the door and went inside the dingy glass doors of the motel lobby. She slid over to his seat and tried to open the door but it was locked. The mechanism had been altered just like the one on the passenger side.

  She let out a dry sob and slid back over to the passenger side. Giving up wasn't an option. She looked around the cabin and opened the glovebox.

  Papers and gum, she pulled the contents out looking for anything that could help her. There was nothing. She put everything back and turned around, getting on her knees in the seat and searching the small space between the back of the seat and the wall of the cab.

  There was nothing there and he would be back any second. She reached under the seat and felt around until something poked her.

  “Ouch,” she whispered.

  She fumbled and pulled out the thing that poked her. It was a long silver screw with a very sharp point. At about three inches long, it wasn't an ideal weapon but it was all she had.

  The door opened while she was still bent over the seat and she shot up and turned to face him.

  “What are you doing?” Billy asked.

  “I thought I was going to get sick,” she said.

  His face relaxed and he got up in the truck.

  “Oh, I thought you were trying to run away or something,” he said.

  “No, I wouldn't do that,” she said.

  The smile she plastered on her face was one thousand percent fake but maybe her only defense was to keep him happy.

  His frown turned into a grin and he started up the truck, driving through to one side of the motel.

  “I knew you'd come around,” he said.

  The whole place was shaped like a big U but more squared and with two stories. There were rooms facing into the interior and rooms on the outside with the lobby in the middle.

  He pulled up to a room on the bottom floor of the outside. She looked around for people but there were none. The screw was still in her hand. She slipped it into her pants pocket and waited while he came around to let her out.

  He opened the door and held out a hand to help her down. She hated it but she took his hand and kept smiling.

  She tensed when she was on the ground and put her hand in the pocket that held the screw. If she could use it on him she might have a chance to run back to the lobby or an occupied room and get help.

  He pushed her body in front of his and moved her toward one of the doors. He only held her with one hand because he had a bag in the other. She gave a good long look at the number 17 plaque on the door before he opened it and pushed her inside.

  She walked to the far corner of the dingy room and looked around. The old wallpaper was peeling away from the wall in places and it probably used to be white with a grey pattern on it but now it was just yellow on top of yellow.

  The smell wasn't as bad but many people had obviously smoked in the room. The stale cigarette scent lingered in the carpet, which was a strange light pink colour.

  There was only one bed in the room and a bathroom behind her. She stood near the sink and watched him drop his green duffle bag next to the bed.

  “So, which side of the bed do you want?” He asked.

  His sick smile gave her chills and she shook her head.

  “Ummm, whatever,” she said.

  “I'm trying to be a gentleman and let you pick, baby,” he said.

  He could easily get mad and snap on her. She watched him reach into his waistband and retrieve the hunting knife. He sat it on the light wood nightstand by the bed.

  She looked up to his face again.

  “I'll take the right side,” she whispered.

  It was the side with access to the phone.

  He nodded and leaned over to open his duffle. When he stood up he threw something toward her. It landed on the bed between them.

  “You should eat that. We can't go get anything since someone might recognize you and t
his place ain't fancy enough to have room service,” he said.

  She picked the thing up and turned it over. It was a chocolate protein bar. She held the bar and looked up. He had opened one of his own and was eating it.

  He jumped on the bed and rolled over toward her to lay on the left side.

  “Come on,” he said, gesturing to the bed.

  She walked around to the other side and sat down on the bed. She was right beside the knife and the phone it would be easy to…

  He grabbed her from behind and playfully wrestled her body across the bed, rolling hey over so she was under his body.

  “You're so pretty. Even with all that makeup. You don't need that, you know. I remember when you didn't wear any onstage,” he said.

  “I was like thirteen,” she replied.

  “Yeah, well, now you won't have to wear that stuff. I've got clothes and everything for you.” He looked her over, touching her hair and using one of his hands to caress her cheek.

  She winced but tried to smile at him, glancing over at the knife.

  “I can't believe this is gonna be our first time,” he grinned.

  Her eyes flicked back to his face in time to see him coming closer. He kissed her and she froze, feeling the roughness of his stubble and the disgusting fake chocolate taste on her lips.

  She wanted to scream but instead she kissed him back and slid her hand over to the nightstand, grabbing the knife and raising it behind him.

  She brought it down with all the force she could, which wasn't enough. It stuck into his back right beside his shoulder blade. He yelled and rolled away, looking at her with such rage that she tried to run.

  He was on her in a second, hauling her back toward him on the bed and grabbing the hand that had the knife in it. He was stronger but she had adrenaline pumping through her.

  She fought and rolled, kicking with her legs and twisting her arms. There would be bruises where his hands had been.

  He tried to get the knife away, pulling her arm toward him but it just directed the knife's super sharp point into her body. It stuck in her side and she gasped.