Rolling my eyes, I decided to play nice. It wasn’t Stockholm Syndrome, it was self-preservation, plain and simple. Build a bond. He might let me go. “Easy there, big guy. You’ll really regret it if you injure a limb. Look at this!” I held up my cuffed wrists, angling my bruised hand for him to see. “Did that on a door handle.” I nodded knowingly.
“A door handle. That’s terrible. You need to be more careful.” He frowned.
Those words might’ve been the understatement of the year. I’d been drugged and handcuffed because I’d mistakenly believed Herman was harmless. Glancing about the back seat, I discovered there was no way to get out. Even if I could get up the courage to jump out of a moving vehicle, the handles for the doors and windows were missing. He was less incompetent than I’d suspected, and in complete control, which I hated. “Yup,” I agreed. “I definitely need to be more careful.”
We were silent a few moments. I’m not sure what he was thinking, but I was busy assessing my situation. Whatever he drugged me with was doing a fine job of keeping me level. I could feel some panic rising, but I was holding it together remarkably well. Honestly, I’d need to stay calm if I even hoped to have a shot at surviving this.
Maybe he’d never done this before. Maybe he’d be nervous. In some ways, he still seemed rather inept. “So, am I your first?” I asked brightly.
Clearly he recognized the hopeful note in my voice. “Aw. No, sorry. There have been three before you.” He winked, the easy demeanor from the bar returning.
“And where are they now?” I wondered. Immediately, he shook his head. “So, is that...you don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?”
Herman sighed. “The latter.” He was quiet a moment before he spoke again. “Listen, we’re having a really good time. Let’s not bring up past relationships and mess things up. Okay?”
Past relationships? Is that what he thought this was? Crap. Naturally, I was afraid. More importantly, I was also determined to live. There were times in my life when I almost expected to be taken too soon. I worried some when I had eaten an incredibly good meal, had a really perfect day, or enjoyed some truly amazing sex. Of course, it had been too long since I had experienced any of those, but I wasn’t going out like this. Somehow, I was going to survive. And when I did, I would have my best day, a combination of all of those. Smiling a little and trying to remain calm, I finally responded. “Okay. Sounds good.”
It was really dark outside, but still I hoped I’d be able to pick out a landmark or street sign. During my perusal of the vehicle, I had discovered my purse was up front, far out of reach. There was no way for me to grab my phone yet, but it was probably still on. It was too early for Carter to be tracking me, worrying over a call that hadn’t happened. For this type of mission he wouldn’t wonder until at least ten at night. The dashboard clock showed it was only six in the evening. Somehow, I’d have to stall, keep him from achieving his goals until long after I was rescued. My mind raced, trying to come up with solutions.
“So, what did you give me? I only ask this because I’m remarkably calm given the situation.” It was my goal to keep our discussions light and conversational. We needed a bond, for him to trust me so he’d slip up. It always worked on the television dramas.
Smiling, he nodded. “Good stuff, right? It’s just Valium.”
Leaning back into the seat, I realized it made perfect sense. “Oh, I’ve had those before. They gave me like half a pill before I had my laser eye surgery a few years ago. It really took the edge off. Yup. Me likey.” Then I closed my eyes for just a moment. I didn’t want to seem too interested, like I was watching too closely.
When I opened my eyes once more, I casually scanned my surroundings, before asking yet another question. “What’s next? It looks like you’re my Friday night date.” I shrugged. “I haven’t had dinner yet. Shall we get a bite to eat?”
“No food.” Herman announced sternly. Then seeing the genuine disappointment on my face, he softened. “We haven’t even worked up an appetite yet.”
Swallowing hard, I tried to hide how much I didn’t like the sound of that. “You don’t even know my name. Shouldn’t you know my name before you presume we’ll ‘work up an appetite’?”
Shaking his head, his next words served only to raise my concern. “I know your name. You’re my Norma Jean.”
Crap. Clearly, Herman was a special kind of crazy. “I look nothing like Norma Jean. I have dark hair!” I argued.
“So did Norma Jean,” he reminded me. “It’s Marilyn who you don’t yet resemble.”
Well damn. He had me on technicality. “You do know I’ll never be her, right?” I watched him for a reaction, but he seemed to have tuned out. “My name is Delilah Morgan. I’m twenty-four years old. I have a boyfriend, and a roommate, and a family that loves me. I promise you, I’ll be missed.”
“Of course you will be.” He nodded sadly. “I’m doing you a favor really. You’ll be famous when you’re gone.” Then the car turned down a driveway in a section of town I still hadn’t been able to place. Stupid Charlotte and its stupid sprawl. Herman seemed happier. Putting the car in park, he turned to face me with a smile. “We’re here.”
It seemed like I was supposed to say something. He was just waiting and staring at me. All I could think about were his words. I didn’t want to be famous. More than that, I didn’t want to be gone. Ruminating on it had soured my mood. Finally, without thinking, finally responded. “Oh, goody.”
Chapter 5
In some ways, the drugs were wearing off. I realized this when seeing Herman all happy and confident had my heart thumping against my ribs. It had to mean danger for me. Struggling to keep it together, I waited to see what would happen next. Taking a moment to assess my status, I realized I currently felt a little light headed, not quite right. As soon as he let me out, I’d know if I was steady on my feet. Ugh, my feet. Looking down I realized my shoes were nowhere to be found.
“Oh, Herman?” I began casually. “I can’t help but notice my shoes are missing.”
“They weren’t practical,” he reminded me. “You couldn’t even walk in them.”
“While that was most definitely true, now I’m going to have to walk with nothing. How’s that going to work? Don’t suppose you plan to carry me?” I stared at him in the rear view mirror.
Must be I had hit a nerve because he seemed very irritable when he threw open the door, emerged from the front seat, and yanked open the back door. Time to do what I did best, turn the tables, win him over. Extending my handcuffed hands, I smiled at him, beamed, pretended he was the love of my life, my prince. It definitely had him off balance. A half smile appeared on his face and he reached for me gently, instead of subjecting me to the same abuse he had inflicted upon the car.
Slowly, he put my hands over his head. “I’m going to turn around,” he warned. “A piggyback ride is probably the best I can do.”
In my mind, a vision flashed of me using the handcuffs and my weight to choke him out. For a millisecond, I wondered if it could work. Then he seemed to reconsider.
“You’ll never get on my back in that skirt.” He sighed heavily as he pulled my hands back over his head. “Guess I’ll just have to throw you over my shoulder.” Without further commentary, I found myself being tossed over his shoulder, my pelvis resting heavily on his clavicle.
It hurt, the bone grinding on bone with each step he took. I tried to shift, to find a more comfortable position, but he only gripped me harder against his body. I refused to give him the satisfaction of whimpering or whining. I was one tough chick. Sometimes, I just forgot.
From my position, upside down, facing the ground, I couldn’t see anything. It was unnerving, but I knew we were heading toward the house attached to the driveway. It was dark with few street lights. The car’s headlights hadn’t illuminated much of the residence. All I could say for certain was there were no lights on inside.
We went up three steps to a rickety porch and I could hear h
im fumbling with his keys. Finally, there was the creak of the door as it opened and we stepped inside. Though I expected my feet would now hit the ground, Herman continued to carry me deeper into the home. The place smelled old, musty. He didn’t live here. No one did.
In the far back corner of the house, he flipped on a light switch which turned on a lamp on a nightstand, then walked a few more steps before dropping me into a chair. The room was still quite dark. It made my heart pound in my chest, but I hid my fear and instead, I smiled at him. “Thank you! The blood was rushing to my head. Whew!” Then I casually glanced around. “Any chance I can use a bathroom or get a drink of water?” Sure, it was doubtful, but I had to try.
Shaking his head, he admitted, “There’s no water here.”
“Oh, I just thought...since there was electric…” My voice trailed off because I really hoped he’d fill in the blanks.
Herman squatted in between my legs. For the first time, I looked down and saw the chain system he was hooking to my handcuffs. Shaking his head, he murmured, “This place was my mother’s home. She passed away about a month ago. I needed the electric to go through her things.”
While I had heard what he said, all I could think about was being chained to the floor like a damn dog. “Is that really necessary?” I asked teasingly. “I have no idea where I am. I have no shoes. It’s maybe forty degrees out. Let’s face it, I’m not going anywhere.” It was a partial lie. Given the opportunity, if I had to cross a floor covered in Legos, I’d try to escape.
“No need to tempt you, give you false hope.” When I heard the final click, I knew I was locked in tight.
From what I had seen in my casual inspection, the room was a bedroom in varying shades of pale pink, right down to the mauve carpet and accent wall behind the bed with rose wallpaper. The bedspread was an old pink chenille, a few bare spots showing excessive wear in the middle where there was also a significant dip in the mattress. The folding closet door was open and it looked to be overflowing with dresses.
“Looks like you haven’t managed to clean out much yet,” I commented, another effort to keep him talking.
Standing, he smile and walked back to the wall. His hand hovered over the switchplate as he spoke. “Aw, I already got rid of her stuff. This...is mine.” Then he flicked the switch and the room was instantly blindingly bright.
Though I had done a fine job of staying calm thus far, a gasp still escaped my lips. What the hell was going on here? The walls we covered in Marilyn Monroe posters. There was Marilyn memorabilia everywhere. This guy, this collection...was serious.
“My wife hates Marilyn,” Herman commented. He held up an old picture of a woman next to an old picture of Norma Jean. “Look they could’ve been twins.” He glanced at me and caught the disbelief in my face. “Okay, well sisters then.”
Slowly, I nodded and wished I had another valium. “Hey, I don’t suppose you have more of those little blue pills…”
Herman stiffened. “I don’t need Viagra. I don’t care what Mildred’s telling people. It’s her, not me.”
Great. I’d managed to hit another sore spot. It was like walking through landmines, trying to have a conversation with this guy. “Not Viagra, silly. I meant valium. A little one.” I pinched my thumb and forefinger together and winked at him as I spoke. It was my best Marilyn look. He froze a moment and I began to think it worked.
Softening, a smile slowly spread across his face. “Will you behave while I go get one?”
My eyes scanned the room. I needed to become her, quote her. “Well behaved women rarely make history.” Then I puckered and blew him a kiss.
Standing, Herman rushed over and knelt at my feet to check the chains one last time. “You’re amazing, Norma, and so right.” He leaned in, never taking his eyes off me. Nervously, he gave a me a quick peck on the lips. It was all I could do not to retch.
Channeling my inner actress, I lowered my lids and practiced being coy while he raced from the room. I could hear the front door slam as he left the house. Carefully, and as quietly as possible, I examined the floor. With any luck, one of his past conquests might have loosened it for me, but it didn’t seem to be the case. Everything still had that strong and sturdy new feel.
Though I hadn’t planned to really take the valium when he brought it to me, now I’d reconsidered. The door slammed and I could hear his boots scraping the floor as he shuffled back to where he’d left me. When he held out his hand, I saw a full pill before me. “Split it with me,” I suggested in my breathiest voice.
His jaw dropped. “You sound...perfect.”
Ignoring his reaction, I nodded toward the pill. “Come on, halfsies. Me and you.” I closed my eyes and nuzzled against his cheek.
With shaking hands, he broke the pill in half and I opened my mouth obediently to receive my portion after he popped one section into his mouth and dry swallowed. I tried to do the same, but ended up simply sticking it under my tongue. Carefully, he reached out to caress my cheek. “Sweet Norma Jean,” he murmured.
Standing suddenly, he moved to the dressing table and began to pull out pots, jars, and makeup brushes from one drawer, then lip liners and eye pencils from another. Afraid to break the silence, I watched and waited as he prepared to apply it to my face.
“I’ll have you looking like yourself in no time.” He closed his eyes and inhaled. My guess was the valium had begun to hit his system. After all, he’d been drinking earlier and the pill was already broken which made it dissolve faster.
Feeling sufficiently calm, I sat still and silent while he applied layers of makeup, far more than I was accustomed to wearing. When he urged me to get out of my chair twenty minutes later, I simply stood patiently. Then he started pulling dresses from the closet and I tried to hide my fear.
Holding up two, he murmured, “I can’t decide.”
“The black and white one,” I suggested. “Very classic.”
“Yeah, but it’s kind of fancy for staying in, don’t you think?” He frowned as he considered the options.
“So take me out.” I shrugged, trying to act as though it were no big deal, when obviously my life hung in the balance.
Herman stared at me a moment. “I don’t know. I kinda wanted us to stay in.”
“You didn’t strike me as a jealous and insecure man.” I gave him a sideways glance. “Maybe I’ve been all wrong about you.” My eyes scanned the walls until I found the perfect words. “All a girl really wants is for one guy to prove to her that they are not all the same.” Then I looked up at him seductively, the way I’d seen Marilyn pose in countless pictures.
“I’m nothing like those other guys,” he grumbled.
“Good. Then we’ll go out.” My mind raced at the possibilities. Somewhere public. Somewhere I could truly escape. “There’s an art walk tonight. We should go. We’ll come back here after.” Keep in mind, when I said ‘we,’ I pretty much meant me and the police, but I didn’t need to share that technicality with him.
“Yeah. After.” He nodded clumsily. Thank goodness for valium.
As quickly as they worked, they could wear off. We needed to move faster. Turning around, I asked, “Unzip me so I can change?”
Clearly he wasn’t accustomed to his victims being so malleable. I watched as he swallowed hard and then struggled not to flinch as he touched me. His fingers fumbled with the metal pull, but finally he managed to inch it down past the widest part of my hips. Slowly I turned. “This will go faster if you let me help.” I held out my wrists, hoping he might uncuff me.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the key and carefully unlocked my wrists. “Don’t get too used to it. We’ll be wearing these in public.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “Of course, I wouldn’t want to lose you.” My words weren’t a lie. This guy wasn’t going to get away. I’d see to it he never hurt anyone again...if at all possible.
In minutes, I was naked except for my matching bra and panties. Herman’s hands were shaking as he pas
sed me the dress and I pulled it over my head. He could barely work the zipper by the time I turned to him for help once more. Then I stuck out a foot.
“What’s that?” His face scrunched up as he stared at my naked toes.
“Shoes. I need shoes. I can’t very well walk around in public without them.” I smiled seductively, I hoped. My face felt heavier with all the makeup and the lingering effects of the drugs, including the pill currently dissolving under my tongue.
“Oh, of course.” He gave me a quick and awkward hug before he ran to the car again. “I’ll be right back!” He called over his shoulder before he door slammed behind him.
I wasn’t worried. In fact, I was happy to have a few seconds alone in the house to find a weapon, maybe search out a phone. Exiting this room, I peeked into the next bedroom, but it was completely empty. The room to the left was a bathroom, so I stepped inside, opening the medicine cabinet. A quick scan showed it was mostly outdated over the counter meds and hemorrhoid cream. Poor mom.
By the time the front door slammed again, Herman was closing in on the bathroom so I decided to play it off. “Hey,” I murmured as he nearly passed me on the way to the room where he’d left me.
“What are you doing in here?” He grumbled as he grabbed my wrist.
“I just wanted to see how beautiful you made me.” I pouted at him and batted my eyelashes. “You didn’t show me. I wanted to look nice for you.” His grip loosened.
“I didn’t even think about it. I’m sorry.” Herman rubbed his hand up and down my arm. “The others didn’t care.”
“You should know by now, I’m not like the other girls.” I smiled as I stuck out my foot for him to push my shoe on. He squatted low and I heard a pop.
“My knees are bad,” he explained as he helped me get into my shoes. Once they were on, I held out a hand to help him up. Smiling, he took it.
When I started to exit the room toward the front door, he shook his head. “But the art crawl.” My face fell. There was no hiding my disappointment.
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