Binding Choice: A Romantic Thriller

by Jessica Dale

  I shuddered and tried again to concentrate on an escape plan.

  <<>>

  Jules

  Last night on the phone, Amanda had lobbied for bringing in the police. Now that the evidence of my break-in was covered up by the window repair, I made the call, from my car in front of her house.

  I was surprised when the county police asked that I come in to file a missing person’s report. I’d somehow thought they would arrive at Ricki’s house, sirens blaring, to take fingerprints and photograph the crime scene. I tried to convince the officer over the phone that they should do just that.

  He was borderline blasé. “You need to make the report official, sir, and then we investigate.”

  That totally made sense, but I wanted to scream at him that Ricki had been missing for days. They should be beating the bushes—or whatever the urban equivalent was—for her, right now.

  Guilt stilled my tongue and tightened my chest until it was hard to breathe. Maybe she wouldn’t still be missing if I’d called them days ago.

  At the police precinct, I sat in a hard chair next to a metal desk, while an officer typed the information I gave him into a computer terminal.

  “And you say that she went missing last Friday?”

  “Yes, that’s the last contact I had from her.” I’d already told him about the man posing as her father and calling her work.

  “And you think this Andrew Thompson fellow has something to do with her disappearance?”

  “Maybe. She’d been seeing him.” I’d decided to take the role of a concerned family friend, rather than a boyfriend.

  The young officer—he couldn’t be more than twenty-two—raised an eyebrow.

  I leaned forward in my chair. “Look, I know this guy. We were fraternity brothers in college. He’s...” I trailed off, not sure how to explain about Drew. He could charm the socks off of most people, but I’d known him long enough to find even his charm sinister.

  The young officer punched a few more keys on his computer. “This last contact you had, what form did it take?”

  “An email.” Dear God, don’t let him ask to see it. Ricki had described in a bit too much detail her last encounter with Drew.

  At least, I hoped it was her last encounter with him.

  No wait, I didn’t hope that. Because that would mean someone else had her, someone I had no way of tracking down. Or she’d gotten hurt when she was somewhere by herself.

  My throat closed. She could be dead somewhere. Had been dead for days. I should’ve called the police right away.

  The officer was talking. “Sir, what was in the email?” His tone said he’d repeated the question at least twice.

  I tried to rub the gritty feeling out of my eyes. “She said she’d broken up with Thompson, because he’d hurt her. Physically.”

  The eyebrow went up again. The officer sat up a little straighter. “He was beatin’ on her?”

  “No. But he, uh, liked things rough, you know, in the bedroom. He went too far and did some stuff she didn’t like.”

  Now both eyebrows were in the air. I’d finally managed to say something that wasn’t same old, same old in this cop’s daily routine.

  I opened my mouth to repeat what Drew had told me, then clamped it shut again. To the cop’s ears, her “going off somewhere to think” would sound like a plausible explanation for her absence. He might even believe that this was simply a love triangle gone awry.

  “I’ve checked her house a couple of times,” I said. “I have a key.” That was true, even though it was one I’d taken after breaking in. But it was better to let the cop assume I was so close a friend she had trusted me with a key. “There’s no sign that she’s been home for days.”

  I was still debating whether or not to turn over her phone. But it might reveal more clues once Amanda took a look at it. I compromised with myself. “And her phone was there, on the kitchen counter. I don’t think she would’ve gone anywhere willingly without that.”

  “She could’ve just forgotten it.”

  True, I thought. It had been plugged in, charging.

  The officer typed a bit more, then a printer on a nearby table started whirring. He stood and picked up the piece of paper it spit out. Handing that and a pen to me, he said, “Sign here, sir, and we’ll start looking for your friend.”

  Somehow, I wasn’t reassured.

  .

  I was supposed to pick Amanda up at BWI airport in an hour, but I couldn’t tolerate the idea of sitting idle. And I had one more address on my list of properties managed by Thompson Realty. I texted Amanda, suggesting she rent a car and I’d reimburse her.

  The address turned out to be over an hour beyond Columbia in western Maryland. I drove up a gravel road that ended at a clapboard cabin.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of my car. I wasn’t sure why, but I had a strong feeling I was about to find Ricki and it wouldn’t be pretty.

  I circled the building, staring into the windows. There was no sign of life inside.

  Nor of death.

  I cupped hands around my face to get a better look. Nothing but dust, on the floor and the surfaces of the furniture. In the main room, there were footprints in the dust, a man’s sneakers as best I could tell. Going and coming several times, from a closed door.

  Did that door lead to the bedroom I’d examined from a back window?

  I went back to that window and peered in again. A neatly made bed and a few pieces of wooden furniture. Not as much dust here.

  I stared at the double doors of the closet. There was also a doorway leading into a dark room. I could barely make out a toilet. The bathroom.

  Obviously no one was inside the cabin now, but had he held Ricki there earlier? Would there be evidence of where he’d taken her?

  I contemplated trying to break in, then thought of a better plan.

  Back on the main road, my phone beeped. My Bluetooth showed me the text. Amanda, saying she would meet me at Erica’s house.

  <<>>

  Erica

  I’d decided to go along with the marriage charade. It was the only way to get him to unchain me and let me out of this cabin. But the plan would require that I act meek, broken.

  I was so angry that wasn’t sure I could pull that off. And I needed to stay angry or... Better not to think about that.

  Managing to wedge my butt against the wall in such a way that I could doze without all my weight hanging from my wrists, I’d rested as much as possible.

  I was startled awake by a strange sound. It took a moment to realize it was a vacuum cleaner.

  I opened my mouth to yell for help, thinking it was a cleaning service or something. Then I caught myself. Drew wouldn’t take that risk. It had to be him.

  When he pulled open the wooden doors of my closet, I gave him my best imitation of a smile. “I’ve decided to accept your proposal,” I said quickly, hoping to forestall whatever plans he had for the evening. “I’ll marry you.”

  He grinned. “Excellent. We’ll discuss the details in a little while. But first...” He trailed off, his grin growing wider. He lifted his hand. In it was a large bundle of rope.

  My empty stomach twisted. I had forestalled nothing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Erica

  Drew held a granola bar to my lips. “Lunch.”

  I took as big a bite as I could, not knowing if he would withdraw the rest of it.

  Chewing was difficult. My mouth was too dry.

  He offered a water bottle.

  I nodded gratefully and he held it to my lips. I gulped down as much as I could.

  Then he fed me the rest of the granola bar. “You’re gonna need your strength.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that.

  He unlocked the chains that held my wrist cuffs to the wall. Then holding both chains in one hands, he bent over to unlock my ankles.

  When the first one was freed, I considered fighting as soon as the second one was unlocked. Could I knee him in the
groin and then make a run for it? I was still contemplating if this was a good idea or should I save my strength for later, when he jerked hard on the chains attached to my wrists, knocking me off balance.

  He dragged me to the bed and flopped me down on my stomach, facing the head of the bed and the wall. Securing the chains attached to my wrist cuffs to the bedstead, he moved to the end of the bed.

  Again I was tempted to kick out, hoping to connect with his balls, but I restrained myself.

  He bound my ankles together with rope. Then he flipped me over face up, and straddled my hips. He was fully clothed but I could feel his erection pressing against the naked skin of my stomach.

  I swallowed back granola-flavored bile.

  He unlocked the wrist cuffs and yanked my arms down. Then he let go of my wrists long enough to reach down for another length of rope from the floor.

  With effort, I kept my suddenly freed hands still—no point in trying to do anything when my feet were bound tight. I even managed a fake shudder, as hope surged in my chest. He was getting careless.

  Starting at just below my elbows, he bound my arms together, wrapping the rope around and around until he got to my wrists. He tugged it tight and tied a knot.

  I was bound like a heifer, about to be branded. Stomach roiling, I prayed that wasn’t what he had in mind.

  He bent my elbows, pushing my hands up under my chin. Then he began to wrap my body in ropes tying them in an intricate pattern of knots.

  “It’s called shibari. It’s Japanese.” His voice was the most excited I’d ever heard it. “I’ve been researching it.”

  Good to know that the Japanese had their own brand of BDSM.

  Some of the ropes were passed roughly under my breasts, biting into the soft flesh there.

  When he’d finished, my arms were bound to my chest. He tied a rope to the intricate mesh and passed it through the brass bedstead, using it to haul my torso partway into the air. I hung there, biting my lip, willing my body not to respond.

  As he quickly stripped off his clothes, my mind began to drift. He grabbed one of the ropes to steady my dangling body, and I found myself floating to the ceiling. Sadly shaking my head, I watched him rape that poor young woman trussed up like a Christmas turkey.

  I noted that his knots were sloppy. I suspected the Japanese were much more precise.

  <<>>

  Amanda

  I resisted at first but eventually I went along with Jules’s plan. It really was the only way to get a good look at the inside of that cabin. And that cabin was the most logical place that this asshole Drew might be holding Erica.

  Or had held her. Jules’s sense was that the cabin was empty when he’d been there.

  As I drove my rental car to Thompson Realty, I struggled to push aside the mental images of the things Drew had probably already done to her. When I almost hit a pedestrian in a crosswalk, I turned on the radio and made myself sing along, my eyes glued to the road ahead.

  It didn’t stop my imagination, but I managed to get to the realty office without further incident.

  Unfortunately, the man who greeted me with a big smile informed me that Drew was out of the office for the afternoon.

  My stomach churned at the thought of the most likely reason he’d taken the afternoon off, but the news gave me an odd sense of hope too. It probably meant that Erica was still alive.

  That thought felt like a kick in the gut. It was the first time I’d admitted to myself that she could already be dead.

  The agent was giving me a funny look. I could only imagine what expression I had on my face.

  I plastered on a fake smile. “Oh gee, that’s a shame. My friend Phil Monroe said he was a really good realtor.” Jules had given me the name of a mutual frat brother as an entrée to ask for Drew.

  The man beamed. “Awesome. He and I were fraternity brothers, along with Drew.”

  I glanced at the guy’s plastic name tag—Bill Watson. “Why then, Mr. Watson, maybe you can take me out to see the cabin I’m interested in. I’m only in town for a couple of days, you see.” I gave him a flirtatious smile and turned on the Southern charm, exaggerating my accent. “I’d really like to see it this afternoon. I’m considerin’ it as a summer getaway. You see, I live in Florida and it gets stinkin’ hot down there in the summer.”

  His return smile was a little crooked. “Call me Bill,” he said, in a now nervous voice. “Let me get the keys.” Midway across the open bullpen, he stopped and pulled a tissue out of a box on one of the desks. He wiped his brow, even though it wasn’t particularly warm in the room.

  Why was he suddenly so anxious? Was he afraid of taking a sale away from his boss’s son? Or was he not that comfortable with women? I decided to crank the charm down a notch or two.

  Bill insisted we take his SUV, pointing out that the cabin’s road wasn’t paved.

  I was very glad that Jules was following at a safe distance. The fact that this guy was a frat brother of Drew’s did not inspire confidence.

  How many sexual predators could there be in one fraternity?

  Recalling some of the high-profile gang rapes on college campuses in recent times, the answer was quite possibly more than one.

  Then again, this Watson dude was also a frat brother of Jules, and so far Erica’s blue-eyed Adonis had come across as a real sweetie.

  I relaxed a little in the SUV’s passenger seat, but not completely.

  <<>>

  Drew

  I was pleased that Erica had decided to accept my “proposal.” But it had been a slow morning at the realty office—when was my father going to get over this need to make me work for a living? I’d gone exploring on the Internet and discovered this shibari thing. It was such an awesome idea, I wasn’t about to put off trying it out.

  I’d left a message for the old man that I had a hot prospect out of town and would be gone for the afternoon. I’d almost laughed out loud. It was the truth.

  I’d tried not to let my anger distract me, as I wrapped rope around and around Erica’s sexy body. That bastard spotter had contacted me again! How did he find out that I had her? Should I change the plan for this evening, was it too risky now?

  No, I wasn’t going to let the asshole spoil my fun. I’d deal with him later.

  I stared down at all those knots. What a turn on. I wished I’d discovered this shibari shit sooner. The Japanese knew a thing or two about submission.

  I could’ve gone on and on all night, but tonight there was other fun scheduled.

  So eventually I untied her and led her into the bathroom. Shoving her into the shower, I turned on the hot water and instructed her to wash her hair. When she reached for the cold-water handle, I smacked her hand.

  “You need sterilizing, darling. You’re filthy.”

  I watched, grinning, as she tried to avoid the scalding water.

  When she turned off the water and started to get out of the tub, I pushed her back. “You didn’t wash down there yet.” I grabbed the bar of soap from the holder. “Smile, my wife-to-be.”

  She tried to fake a smile but it was more a grimace.

  <<>>

  Erica

  He finally left me alone in the windowless bathroom to blow-dry my hair. For a moment, I considered hanging myself from the shower rod with the hair dryer cord. The thought that the rod probably wouldn’t hold my weight stopped me.

  He’d given me some things to put on. It felt so incredibly good to be clothed again. I hadn’t realized quite how vulnerable being naked made me feel, until the feeling was gone. The snug white dress seemed like armor instead of cotton and spandex. I wrapped the scarf he’d given me around my head, covering most of my hair.

  I took a moment to adjust my demeanor to that of a woman with a broken spirit.

  It’s not so far from reality. I shuddered. I had to get away from him, tonight.

  When I stepped out of the bathroom, I noted that he’d tidied away the ropes he’d used earlier.

  He ha
nded me sunglasses. “Don’t take these off, no matter what.” He gestured toward a pair of white high heels on the floor.

  I sat down on the side of the bed and struggled to get my swollen feet into the shoes. “Uh, I’m really hungry,” I said timidly. It wasn’t all an act. The granola bar had long since worn off and I was weak with hunger.

  “We’ll stop at a drive-thru somewhere,” he said as he tossed me a white jacket that I would have thought cute in a previous lifetime.

  A firm hand gripping my elbow, he guided me outside and toward his car.

  I noted my surroundings as best I could without seeming obvious. The woods were thick, the spaces between trees strangled with a riot of underbrush. But there was a faint trail, two trails actually, going off to the left of the cabin, beyond the parking area.

  I squinted through the dark glasses but could only catch a glimpse of a small patch of light gray before Drew shoved me none too gently into the passenger seat.

  An outbuilding maybe?

  He leaned down and clicked handcuffs onto my ankle and the adjustment bar under the seat.

  It really wasn’t necessary. I had no intentions of trying to break away from him here. Much better to wait until we were back in civilization.

  We were on the main road when I realized what the gray patch was. My heart pounded and I felt faint.

  My car was parked in the woods near the cabin.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Amanda

  So far, the cabin was a bust. Not even dust on the floor.

  “This is really well kept,” I said, “considering it’s vacant.”

  “We have a cleaning crew that comes in periodically,” Bill Watson said. “They must’ve been here recently.”

  Very recently, I thought. Jules had said the place was dusty earlier.

  I walked over to the bedroom closet’s double doors, as Watson launched into a spiel about the virtues of the place. Which were limited. How much could one say about a two-room weekend cabin?

  Bracing myself for what I might find, I flung one door open. Empty space, even the rod for hanging clothes was missing. I opened the other door. More empty space.