No, they didn’t want to kill me. If they had wanted to kill me, at least immediately, I would be sitting in the car with a bullet in my head or my throat slit. I shuddered at the image and the vision of Gary falling to the ground filled my mind. I prayed that he was alive.
I was being captured for a reason, and it was surely not just to kill me. I had to keep quiet, play this as cool as I possibly could. They might kill me later, but for now I was alive and I planned to stay that way.
I was going to be used as a bargaining tool. They would trade my life for something. The whole of Strauss Engines? That was impossible, I told myself. Strauss Engines had shareholders and investors, you couldn’t just sign it away in exchange for the life of one young woman. There was something that they felt Alex might trade for my life, but I couldn’t think of what it was. I only hoped that Alex was willing to trade it for me. I valued my life much more than whatever these bastards wanted.
I placed my entire faith in Alexander Strauss that he would save me from this predicament. I had trusted him this far, now there was no turning back. My life was in his hands.
The car ride lasted for at least two hours, maybe three. Blindfolded and without reference, I could only assume how long we had been driving. After a while, I managed to let my thoughts dissipate and I accepted my situation. There was else I could do.
The SUV stopped. I could hear doors opening all around me and the two men on each side of me disappeared. I froze, unwilling to move. Despite having calmed myself earlier, I felt a whole new wave of panic seize me. Maybe they had taken me out to a field somewhere to put a bullet in me and leave me in an unmarked grave. I fought back tears and steadied myself.
I thought of Alex from the previous night. I wanted badly to be wrapped in his arms just one more time, to bury my face in his neck and breathe in the scent of his skin. His arms wrapped around me, our embrace unbroken. I resolved that I would see him again and I would get my wish. I felt myself harden inside and the fear lessened. Anger at being taken and held against my will replaced it.
“All right, you’ve got two options,” a voice said. It sounded flat, almost electronic. “You can walk with us and make this easy, or we can drag you. I can tell you it won’t be a gentle dragging either.”
I said nothing.
“Have it your way. Oh, and if you try to scream, we’re going to have to hit you, maybe even knock you out. And no one will hear you anyway so you might as well save your breath. You’re in the middle of nowhere, sweetie.”
I remained still and silent. A pair of hands grabbed me by my shoulders and tore me from my seat with surprising strength. I tried to resist in vain and the man dragging me out of the car threw me to the ground. I landed on my shoulder and the pain shot through me like electricity. I made no sound as I gritted my teeth. Two men grabbed me underneath each arm and dragged me like a rag-doll through the dirt. I realized then that I wasn’t wearing any shoes. I wondered when I had lost them but my memory was completely void of anything involving losing my shoes.
I let my body go limp and soon enough I felt myself being dragged against concrete. We were inside some sort of building. I could hear doors opening and closing. I tried to count how many but it was too hard to differentiate the sounds. Finally, we stopped. Wherever our destination had been, we were there now.
The pair of men lifted me off my feet and threw me across a room. The floor slammed into my outer thigh and fresh, white pain shot through my entire leg. My hands were behind my back, still tied, when they were grabbed and pulled up. I pushed back, trying to strike anything I could. I could hear a man let out a small chuckle, mocking my attempt to combat him. Rage filled my blood and every muscle screamed out at me to strike. I kicked my legs out and I connected with something hard, and realized it was the man’s shin.
He let out an angry grunt and I felt myself being turned around so quickly that my legs gave out. I was hanging by my hands, and the pain in my wrists exploded as the ropes tightened against my bodyweight. I could hear a man behind me and I realized that I was held up from behind. I wiggled and writhed against the pain in my arms when I felt something smash into my stomach with the force of a mallet. All the wind exploded out of my lungs and I cried out breathlessly.
I gasped for air that wouldn’t come. The pain in my arms lessened slightly as the panic of choking filled me. I opened my mouth again and again to try to suck in the hot air in the bag that was still over my head. I felt dizzy. I found my footing but it was weak and I badly wanted to tumble onto the ground and curl up into a fetal position.
“Stupid bitch,” a man’s voice said angrily. “Fucking hit me again and you’ll lose teeth, got it?”
I felt hands crawl over me, searching me. They patted my legs and slowed around my ass. They gripped my ass cheeks and squeezed, lingering for longer than was necessary to realize that I was hiding nothing there. They moved around my inner thighs and thankfully moved up quickly without violating me. I felt them pat underneath my armpits and my lower back before they moved over my breasts. Then I felt them squeeze my nipples, hard.
I raised a knee to try to strike the bastard groping me. It connected with air and I felt a hand slap across my face just as I was starting to regain my breath. Stars exploded over my vision.
“Nice try,” the man said.
Hands tore my clothes off without any shred of worry for how it hurt when they tore against my skin. I stifled any cries of protest at being robbed of my clothes. I was positive they were going to rape me, but after I was completely naked no hands touched my skin. I felt a knife slide in between my hands and cut the rope. I rubbed my hands together, the rush of blood bringing a million tiny needle pricks with it. I heard a door close and I was alone.
I tore off the blindfold and gasped in fresh, cool air. I saw nothing but stars as my eyes adjusted to the light and I covered myself as best as I could with my arms, not knowing if anyone was watching me, but sure that someone must have been.
When my vision cleared, I saw that I was in a small room that was furnished to look like a little apartment. A cot was pushed against the corner, and on top of it I saw a stack of clothes. I immediately rushed over to it and put on the plain white shirt that was on top. Then I slipped on the grey sweatpants that looked as though they had been bought that day, although all the tags were cut off. I put on the black sweatshirt, even though I wasn’t cold, to give myself another layer so nobody would be able to see my nipples that poked through my shirt. I laced up a plain pair of sneakers and sat on the cot, rubbing my sore stomach.
I looked around the room. One of the walls was a big mirror that reflected the rest of the room, giving it the illusion that it was much larger than it really was. I was sure that this was a one way mirror and I was glad that I had chosen to cover myself as quickly as possible. I stood up from the cot, my legs feeling like they had returned to their previous strength, and began to scan the mirror with my fingers. I fought back the impulse to punch it as hard as I could. There was no sense in breaking my hand.
I turned away from the mirror and saw that a desk was pushed against another wall. I walked over to it and saw that a large bowl of noodle soup sat on top. I touched the side of the bowl with my hand. Ice cold. A two-gallon jug of water was placed next to it with an empty glass cup next to it. I poured myself some water and drank it greedily. It wouldn’t be poisoned. Why go to all of the trouble of bringing me here, searching me and stripping me, and then poisoning me?
I drank two more glasses of water. I wasn’t hungry yet, but I knew I would need my strength, so I was glad for the noodles awaiting me later. My gratitude immediately riled up more anger in me. To think that I was grateful that my captors were kind enough to leave me a crappy bowl of cold noodles. I fought the impulse to throw the bowl against the two-way mirror. I had to be smart right now. Wasting my only source of food would be anything but smart.
Also on the desk was a television remote. I picked it up carefully and turned it over in my hand
s, studying it. I looked around the room quickly and noticed that a television was hung in the top corner of the room. Safety glass encased it. I pointed the remote at it and pressed the power button. The screen came to life on a news channel.
I looked around suspiciously. Then the television shut off.
“Samantha,” an electronic voice called out from everywhere.
I jumped visibly and looked around, panicked and ready to fight. I put the television remote down on the desk and looked around, spotting the two speakers in opposite corners of the ceiling, also encased with safety glass.
“We apologize for you being stripped. Consider it a necessary security precaution.”
I faced the two-way glass. “Consider it water under the bridge. I completely understand,” I said sarcastically, the anger in my voice rising with every word.
“You will be given three meals a day and as much water as you need. If you behave, we’ll give you tea or coffee once a day.”
“How long do you plan on keeping me here?” I asked defiantly.
Silence greeted my question. I looked back to the desk and saw that a metal chair was tucked in neatly underneath it. I eyed it with great interest.
“Answer me!” I demanded.
Once again, I was greeted with silence. I walked over to the desk and grabbed the chair, lifting it up.
“NOW!” I screamed, enraged.
“Put the chair down, Samantha. You’re only going to hurt yourself. The glass is bullet-proof safety glass, military grade. You’d need a howitzer to do any real damage to it,” the electronic voice said. I could hear a note of amused humor in it.
I saw red. I always thought that “seeing red” was an expression, but in that moment, the whole room was coated in a shade of red and I could feel my brain boiling with a rage that I had never previously experienced. I had been captured. I had been groped. I had been stripped of my clothes. I was in this prison cell and now I was being mocked. I had reached my breaking point.
I threw the chair at the mirror. It bounced off and struck the cot. I picked it up and with all my might I smashed it into the glass, driving my entire body into it. It vibrated violently in my hands as it bounced off and pain shot through my arms and shoulders. The chair flew back and I let it go, falling back from the recoil of my own strike.
I sat on the ground, fuming in rage. Tears of anger flowed down my face and I wiped them off defiantly. I raised myself up and turned back to the glass. There was a large scuff mark when I had struck it with the chair and I noticed a hairline crack. Breathing heavy with exhaustion, I let out a cry of triumph at my small victory over the glass that the voice had claimed was unbreakable.
“Strike at the glass again and there will be consequences, as well as reduced rations.” The voice was without humor now. I heard a click and the television turned back on.
I picked up the chair and placed it on its legs. It wobbled slightly as one leg was slightly bent now. I sat down and rocked it back and forth, reveling in the imbalance of it due to my strike. It was a meaningless act of defiance, but it had felt good in the moment. The victory was short-lived however. I was still imprisoned.
I drank the cold soup and slurped noodles, my hunger returning to me. I drank another glass of water and ate the last of the tasteless noodles. I figured there would probably be no tea or coffee for me today. I couldn’t help but smile.
I studied the room. Despite my fervent belief that the door would be locked, I tried it anyway. The handle did not budge a centimeter. I walked around the small room and studied the cot. I ran my hands over the safety glass over the television, standing on the chair to reach it. I looked at the two speakers closely and soon lost interest.
There was a small bathroom in the corner, but without any kind of walls or privacy barrier from the two-way mirror. There was a small toilet, a sink, and a shower head poking out of the wall. In front of the shower head on the ground was a small drain. I laughed at the thought of showering here, giving the kidnappers a nice show. I’d rather stink so bad that I couldn’t even handle the smell before I would strip willingly in front of these men again.
I washed my hands and face in the sink using the bar of soap that was left for me. I toweled myself off with a brand new towel that was folded and resting on top of the toilet tank. It was surprisingly soft.
I turned the television to the guide channel that listed all the stations and programming. It also listed the time, which was what I was really looking for. It had been six hours since I had been taken from outside of my apartment. How long until Alex knew I was gone? Surely he must know by now, whether Gary was alive or dead. I thought of Gary again and hoped he was all right. He had really tried to protect me.
I laid on the bed and closed my eyes, positive that no sleep would come, but when it did, I welcomed it anyway.
Chapter Seventeen
I slept a dreamless sleep. When I awoke, my mind tried to grab onto the reality that I was now trapped. I looked around the room, confident that I was dreaming, but when I shook myself and rubbed my eyes, the room only cleared and became all that much more real. I was still in this prison. There was no escaping it. I was trapped.
The television was off. On the desk was a bowl of oatmeal, two hard-boiled eggs, and a cup of green tea, still warm. I rose out of bed and walked over to the desk. I sat in the chair and rocked it back and forth. The legs were still uneven from my attack earlier and I laughed to myself. I ate the almost tasteless food ravenously and drank down the green tea in one large gulp. I drank two glasses of water and sat back in the chair, full from the food.
I turned the television on and scanned the channels. I turned to the guide station again and checked the time. It had been fourteen hours since I had been captured. Alex must know by now that I had been taken. At the very least, he must be worried that something had happened, especially given the threats against me recently.
My mind returned to the photograph. My anger over the vile nature of the threats was still there. There was no doubting that the same people who had threatened me had carried out my kidnapping. Now, the question remained as to what my future held.
I thought of Alex again and my promise to myself that I was going to be freed of this prison and in his arms once again. I reaffirmed this promise, muttering it under my breath. Hearing it from my lips gave me a newfound confidence in my belief that he was going to rescue me. I had faith in Alexander Strauss.
I assessed my situation again. I was trapped in a small room, but I hadn’t been tortured. I had been kidnapped very roughly, but then again, I didn’t think that a “gentle kidnapping” was a real thing. I felt over my body and there were no soft spots of pain aside from my wrists. I studied my wrists and the red bands that wrapped around them caused by the rope that had tied them together. There were no real cuts or anything that would leave a scar. In a day or two, my hands would look like nothing had happened. I would get out of this situation without any lingering wounds. At least without physical ones.
“You won’t fight alone,” I had said to Alex the previous night. The memory came back slowly. It seemed like days ago that I had sat in the finest restaurant in the city, a restaurant that Alex owned, and ate delicious food and drank expensive white wine while we stared at each other longingly.
So far, I had only thought about my own situation, naturally. Now I wondered if maybe they hadn’t struck at Alex at the same time as me. What if they were holding both of us until the company fell apart or was overtaken by those who were trying to bring Alex down? What if Alex was only one room away from me, enduring the same imprisonment? I looked to the concrete wall and considered this. It seemed like a remote possibility to me, but I couldn’t suppress the fear over the thought.
If Alex had been taken too, who would come for me?
The answer was clear. If Alex was in the room next to me, no one was coming. I couldn’t let the thought take on any reality. If I gave in to the idea that we were both captured, then I would lose a
ny will to fight.
I laid on the bed, turning off the television to think. I reflected on my life before I had met Alexander Strauss. Before I had called him an arrogant prick in the employee cafeteria. Why did it have to be that day that Emily and I had to have that conversation? Before that day, no one had even seen Alexander Strauss in the building, let alone the employee cafeteria. Why was he even in there that day? If he hadn’t been, I wouldn’t be sitting in this prison right now.
Slowly, doubt began to enter my thoughts. I began to doubt that I had made the right decision. I thought of the day that I had stood before Alex, ready to resign and leave the company forever. It would have had no impact on him at all. I was just a temp, totally replaceable. Yet Alex must not have thought so. He told me he saw something incredibly valuable, maybe even invaluable, in me.
Anybody would have accepted that deal. Hell, even the pay alone was enough to make it an offer no one in their sane mind would refuse. Although my new pay scale wasn’t doing me a lot of good in this prison.
It wasn’t just the money that had made me accept the deal. Alexander Strauss was too interesting to walk away from. I wanted to be around him in any way that I could. I wanted him to open me to new experiences, both sexually and professionally. I had never felt the things that he made me feel, that he brought out in me. But had I really been aware of the dangers I was getting into?
If I had known that I would be sitting in a prison cell, humiliated and abused, would I have accepted the agreement?
Alex had given me an out when things began to heat up. He had concealed nothing from me, even in the beginning. I had entered into our agreement knowing that he thought things would get dangerous. But my mind still focused on whether I had made the right choice or not. Alexander Strauss or not.
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