by Cee Smith
Matakia mou—something I would hear my own father whisper to my mother as her fingers held pieces of fruit against his lips. Her fingers would disappear into his mouth, dropping the fruit on his tongue before moving back to the plate. Those native words were the few he’d spoken in my presence. My parents had tried very hard to acclimate to living the American dream, choosing to leave proof of their “otherness” back in the land they left.
Their love was the one thing that was real. The more Scout looked into their disappearance, the more holes started to puncture the picture-perfect life I thought I had had. It was true my father had come here with little to nothing, but after he started to build up his wealth, things started to look suspicious—foreign bank accounts, what looked to be doctored books, unaccounted workers. For someone who lived the straight and narrow, there was something my parents were hiding, even from me. Some days I even questioned if their disappearance was planned.
“You need to eat. You’re getting too skinny, and I know you had a bigger appetite before.”
“Well, getting kidnapped does tend to damper one’s appetite, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Sleep clung to her voice as she spoke in an unusually raspy tone. Repositioning herself, she sat in front of the tray and began picking at the bread on the plate. I watched as she dipped it in her soup, like steeping a teabag, before she bit off a piece.
“I want you to feel comfortable here. What would you like? Movies? Books? Games?”
“You can’t buy me with things. You can dress it up, but if I can’t leave, then I’m still a prisoner here. I can’t even talk to my sister. I know she’s probably scared and is missing me—all because of what?” She tossed her hands up, looking around the living room as if something would apparently explain why I took her.
“What if I could do something to make you feel better?”
She raised her eyebrows, looking skeptical but intrigued. Though she feigned slight interest, I knew I had her because she didn’t outright shut me down.
“—but it would come with stipulations. And don’t think I haven’t been keeping track of all your infractions because I have, even the ones you’ve done while you didn’t think anyone was watching. I would want your complete obedience.”
“And what would I get out of this?”
“I’ll allow you to write your sister a letter, for peace of mind—yours and hers.”
“Oh my god, will you?” Her face lit up with the first real smile she’d had since I’d taken her. The fireplace cast the right side of her face in a warm glow. The flickering flames danced in her brilliant blue eyes, and I felt my breath hitch. I put that smile there; I owned that smile.
“But let me forewarn you: I will read this letter, and if it turns out you’re trying to sneak in some kind of code or if anything looks suspicious, that letter won’t be sent. I’ll need something else from you in the next couple weeks, which I’m willing to grant you another nicety, in exchange for your obedience.”
“What’s that?” That had wiped the smile from her face, and she was back to being suspicious, cautious of my every word and movement. She paused with a full spoon poised outside her mouth awaiting entry.
“I’m still working out the details, but you may be able to go outside, beyond the limits of this house. I know you only had three more months before graduating with your degree…” she dropped the spoon back in the bowl—all thoughts of food forgotten.
“I can have Scout set it up, but if you can arrange with your professors to finish the work outside of class, then I’ll allow it, but all work turned in will be reviewed by me or Scout, and if it looks questionable, I’ll cut you off. Understand?”
“You’d let me finish? I don’t understand. Why?”
“Like I said, I want you to be comfortable, and though I know you’re more than some B.A. in Business Administration,” the words rolled from my tongue with undisguised disgust (it really was a bland degree for someone that was anything but bland), “it’s obviously something you’ve applied yourself in, and if it makes you happy, then...” I shrugged my shoulders because it meant nothing to me to offer her these things, especially if that meant she wouldn’t mope around looking so damn gloomy. I wanted the girl from the beach, the one who was exuberant and carefree, but I also wanted something deeper than that girl.
“Can I send the letter today?”
I nodded my head, and she rushed to get up, her legs fumbling as they hadn’t quite caught on that she was on the move.
“After you finish your lunch,” I said halting her movements. She sat back down and with a determined face ate quicker than I’d ever seen her eat. When she was done, I gave her the OK and watched as she took off, barreling down the hall towards the staircase.
“I’ll have Clema send you up a pen and some paper,” I shouted after her.
Dear Jessa,
Believe me when I tell you that I’m OK. If I weren’t, how would I send this letter? I miss both you and Adam so much, and I love you and am thinking of you every day. I can’t imagine what you must have been going through these past few weeks, but if the situation were reversed, I know I’d be going crazy waiting around the house for a call, a letter—anything to let me know you were OK. I want you to stop waiting around the house. Go back to school; finish out the year. You’ve worked hard, and I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t the end of Jessa and Hailey. I’ll see you again, sister.
Your favorite,
Hailey
I triple-checked every sentence, making sure that there could be no hidden meaning inferred in any lines. I left it unsealed and made my way back down the stairs to find Dominic.
Dominic was showing his softer side again, which let me know that the monster wasn’t too far behind, but I didn’t want to think about that at the moment. Right then, all I cared about was my letter reaching Jessa. I was sad that there would be no return letter, but at least, in the meantime, she could move on with her life.
“Has the mailman already—” I stopped short when I reached his office door and saw him on the phone. He looked up from his computer screen, and I back-stepped to the doorway, moving to leave, when he hung up and waved me forward.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I said moving further into the room.
“I’m going to send the letter. You don’t have to walk on eggshells. If I didn’t want you in here, you wouldn’t be. It’s as simple as that,” he sounded as emotional as someone counting numbers.
“I wrote my letter. Is it too late to mail it today?”
“I don’t believe the mailman has come, no. Leave it on my desk, and I’ll take care of it.”
“How will I know you sent it?”
“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
“Hmph.”
I turned to leave, but he shot up from his chair, meeting me before I left the room. He took hold of my arm—clasping his fingers above my elbow—and pulled me back towards his desk. His index finger touched the middle of my chest, guiding me to take a seat.
I sat in the chair, still warm from his presence, and looked up at Dominic who was standing before me with a mischievous grin lining his face. I wondered if he wanted sexual payment for allowing me to send a letter to my sister. It wouldn’t surprise me. He was twisted that way.
His fingers kissed across my neck reminding me of the bruise I wore like a choker. I sat stock still while he circled my neck with his fingers. He disappeared behind my back, but his fingers still trailed, reminding me of his closeness.
“About what I said earlier…I think it’s time to start doling out some of these punishments you’re racking up. Wouldn’t you say? You seem to be in such good spirits now.” His stiff words before were now slippery, alive with the sadistic touch that usually preceded my humiliation.
“I don’t know what I’ve done that warrants punishment.”
“Yes you do. All you have to do is merely look at your clothes to know one of the—”
�
�—but I needed warmer clothes.” My voice rose, bordering on hysterical. I needed to know what could happen if I didn’t wear the clothes. How far was Dominic willing to go? I saw how angry he could get, but I didn’t want to just be scared of a possibility.
“I hope it was worth it,” he whispered in my ear, his orange musky scent draping across my shoulders like a shawl.
“Take it off, all of it. Since you don’t know how to follow direction, I’ll spell it out for you. I want every scrap of clothing that’s on you right now off your body and in my hands in two minutes. You won’t be wearing anything until your clothes are laid out for you tomorrow morning.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” I asked as I pushed to get up.
“Would you rather I hit you? Surely I could beat the stubbornness out of you, but you seem to respond well to humiliation. It’s just the same to me.” He shrugged his shoulders as if choosing between the two would be like deciding whether to have peas or carrots. I didn’t like his indifference to the idea of beating me. It revealed more about him than I had seen thus far.
He looked at his watch as if timing me, and I began stripping off my clothes—my shoes, my pants, my vest, my sweater. I left my undergarments last, secretly hoping that I could cling to these two scraps that did little to conceal, but when he looked at his watch again, I unclasped my bra and pulled my underwear down with hands that shook from the nerves as much as the cold air that whipped my skin in its brutality. With all of my clothes piled at my feet, I scooped them up and attempted to hand the load over to him. His arms stayed folded. It wasn’t enough that he had made me strip like this, but then the bastard had the nerve to refuse my clothes, only taking them once I had folded them neatly and placed them back in his arms.
My hands rose, barely covering myself as I gritted, “Happy now? I’m freezing.”
“You’re to still come down for dinner like this, and I swear, if you come down with so much as a piece of lint on you, I’ll beat your bottom blue.” He dipped down, his face closing the distance between us. As if I would actually kiss him after that! I turned my cheek, and he chuckled before pecking me lightly, dismissing me with a swat on my butt.
Dinner wasn’t too unbearable. I mostly just hid my body beneath the table while I ate. The rest of the week played out in much the same way, with Dominic doling out punishments he felt I had deserved. When I was suited up and ready to go swimming, he stopped me, saying I was banned for the day for my, “little stunt in the pool.” One day he had Scout follow me around everywhere like my shadow. Another day I did all the cooking and cleaning while Clema had the day off. It felt like every day for a solid week I was paying in some kind of way.
He kept his promise though, permitting me to email my professors to see if they’d accept the work I’d missed and allow me to finish out the year remotely. Once I was approved, he provided all the books and materials I needed.
I started to find a routine: I woke up, got ready, ate breakfast, did online classes/studied, had lunch, went swimming, studied or went outside, had dinner, retired to bed, and slept. The next day I awoke, and it started all over again. I didn’t know when it happened, but with my days being so full, I forgot all about my plans to escape. Maybe it was a coping method. He was right about one thing though—finishing my degree meant a lot to me, even more so because my parents weren’t around to watch us graduate. I tried so hard to do everything that I thought they would have expected of me, wanted for me, and Jessa and I graduating would have surely made them happy.
With my schedule, Dominic had become a ghost, coming in after I was asleep and leaving before I woke up. On the days he did come around, I noticed how exhausted he looked. His walk was slower, his arms looser. He wasn’t the same man that captured me from the bottom of the sea.
One of the nights after an especially hard day for myself and what looked like for him as well, I returned to the question I had asked the first night he had chained me to his bed: “What would happen to me if something were to happen to you?”
“Look at me,” he said tugging at my waist so I could roll over and face him before he continued. “Nothing is going to happen to me. That’s why I have Scout.”
“No one is invincible, Dominic.”
“Hailey, you almost sound scared for me. What would you like to happen?”
His words sounded borderline playful, as they tilted and pitched in ways that contradicted my line of questioning.
“You know what I want. I want to go home, to be with my family, to live outside this cage again.”
“I know things haven’t been all bad,” he said swiping some of the hair away from my face, guiding it past my shoulders, where he lingered.
“No, but that’s not the point.”
“Whatever happens, you will be taken care of. Now go to sleep and stop wishing for my demise.”
“I wasn’t. I’m not,” I said, sounding offended. Did he think that everyone worked like he did? Did something happen to make him this way or had he always been this...jaded. “Despite what you’ve done I would never wish death on anyone. I’m nothing like you; don’t presume I am,” I said rolling away from him.
“What you don’t understand Hailey is that men like me, men worse than me, prey on women like you. If it weren’t me, it probably would have been someone else that took you. At least with me you’re safe. I haven’t done anything to hurt you. Your pride may be a little bruised, but other than that, you’re still as beautiful as the day you were taken.” His words sounded strained, yet I knew he meant every word he said.
He was right. While his actions were deplorable, and he was definitely aggressive, he hadn’t hurt me in any way that drew blood or marked me permanently. If anything, I was more nervous about the psychological effects he was having on my psyche—the reason why I found myself thinking of him when he wasn’t around. I wanted to believe that I was scared about what our next interaction would be, but I knew that wasn’t true when those thoughts were interspersed with images of that night.
Other than the occasional touch or kiss, he didn’t try anything else after the night of our exploding orgasms. I thought about him though. The questions always turning back to why he took me. He was obviously turned on by me at one point. Has he lost interest? Am I not good enough? Have I disappointed him? I thought about it more than I cared to admit.
There was something there between us that night, but it was fading like the memory of a dead loved one. I could barely make out what it was that made me feel that way. Just thinking about that night got me hot. The bruises only lasted a few days, but he was still healing from my scratches—thin brown lines dashed across his back like Morse code.
***
I got caught up on my work early and changed into my swimsuit, deciding to spend my extra hours swimming. I opened the glass doors leading to the indoor pool and found Dominic seated in a lounge chair. His hair was slicked back, and water droplets settled against his skin. His boardshorts were pulled low across his hips, showcasing his lean stomach and muscles that pointed like an arrow to what was concealed beneath.
Stunned into silence, I walked toward the lounge table and chairs and set my towel down.
“What are you doing down here? I've never seen you swim the whole time I've been here.”
“Maybe I normally swim around your schedule.”
I knew that he had cameras in here that watched me while I swam, and he'd already seen every part of me naked, but I still felt shy being up close with nothing but my swimsuit on.
“Maybe,” I parroted back, not believing that he’d been swimming the entire time I’d been there.
“You're in here a little early. How's your schoolwork been coming along?”
“Things have been good, thank you. What are you normally doing at this time of day?”
“Catching up with work, making sure my company doesn't implode in my absence.”
“Oh, you've never told me what you do.”
“You've never aske
d. I'm sure you just assumed I was a professional kidnapper.”
“That and a trust-fund baby. So what are you?”
“I guess a little of both, amongst other things. My dad owned an investment company I now own, though it’s tripled in size and worth since I've taken over.”
“Where are your parents? I've never heard you mention them.”
“I'd like to think they’re alive somewhere, but they vanished, while boating, a little over ten years ago.”
“I'm sorry to hear that. That must have been awful. How old were you?”
“Eighteen, but that's life. Your parents died too, no?” He placated like the topic had no affect on him, but I watched the way his muscles tensed the moment his parents were brought up. It was more than just sadness contained in the depth of his eyes. There was also fire, which led me to believe that there was more to their disappearance than a simple boating accident.
“They did. Car accident. What were your parents like?”
“Kidnapping isn’t a family business, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I’m not. I was just making conversation.”
He took a breath as if thinking over the best attributes of dead loved ones. “They were born and raised in a small town in Greece. They married before they came to the states. My father started working as a busboy at a restaurant, saving his money to invest. He started a small investment company that he and my mom ran and it took off. They were pretty normal, hardworking. It wasn’t until I was eighteen that they even took a serious vacation, just the two of them. That was the boating trip on which they went missing on.”
“Wow, I’m sure your parents would be proud of what you’ve done with the company. It’s quite an accomplishment.”
When nothing was said for several moments, I dived into the pool, filling the silence with the sounds of water splashing as I kicked myself deeper underwater. There seemed to be a piece of the story that was missing. How could a man like Dominic be raised by parents that seemed completely normal? It didn’t make sense. I was almost afraid to ask about his parents, for fear that Dominic would say they were abusers or criminals or something else that would justify the man that held me without an ounce of remorse.