by Alta Hensley
He was the first to break our stare. His gaze went from my eyes to my breasts—my nipples hard from the cold air—and then to my exposed sex spread wide before him. His look was not carnal in nature or lust-filled. Instead, it was one of surprise and even disgust. He then looked at his mother who stood there wringing her hands together in worry.
“Momma…” The way he said her name reminded me of the sound of when a bullet leaves a gun.
“Oh, Pope. Let me explain. I don’t know what happened.” The southern accent was still gone, and the slight trembles to Viv’s body had returned. If I wasn’t sitting there watching it myself, I would have never believed it. The woman was morphing in front of me from one person to the next. Everything changed. Her voice, her attitude, and in many ways, her appearance as well.
“Fuck!” he thundered as he kicked a moving box that sat toward his right with a force that sent the box sailing through the air. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” The deep baritone of his booming voice reverberated off the concrete walls and floor. “What the hell did you do? What did you do?” He ran his hand through his hair and then punched another box repeatedly as he roared like a beast.
I watched as Viv stood there in absolute panic. She glanced at me and then at him as he attacked the box with his fists with a vengeance. He finally stopped and spotted the scissors still resting on top of another box. Storming over to where they sat, he picked them up and came straight for me.
I flinched and prepared for the worst. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Viv didn’t move to protect me as I had hoped she would. I don’t know why I expected her to, but I did. I knew Vivian wouldn’t, but I really thought Viv would.
Pope kneeled down before me—his face inches from my bare pussy—and brought the scissors to the binds wrapped around my right leg and proceeded to cut the rope. I watched him in disbelief, unsure of what his actions meant. He wasn’t hurting me, and, in fact, was being gentle in the way he handled my leg as he held me steady to cut through the thick material of the rope. When one limb was free, he moved to the other ankle. Having my leg free, I thought about kicking him in the teeth, but reason won out. I knew I would lose that battle and only anger him more. I closed my legs, though, so as not to show the inside of my pussy any longer. He glanced up and noticed that I had done so. It was then that I felt humiliation for the first time. Fear was a much more powerful feeling than humiliation, so not once had I felt the heat of embarrassment reach my face… not until that very moment. Pope Montgomery had seen every inch of my body. No doubt with my legs spread as wide as they were, he had seen the lips of my pussy stretched open and even my clit. I had been on full display for him. But even being as close as he was to me, he never once touched me in a sexual manner nor even looked at me in that way. The confusion over this only intensified my fear. I had no idea what was going on, or what to expect.
When Pope freed my other ankle, he silently got up and worked on the bonds around my wrists. I stared at Viv who shifted her weight from one foot to the other, clearly worried about what Pope would do. Was she waiting for him to kill me? Would he have sex with me first? Was that the reason why he was freeing me?
The minute my hands were free, I covered my breasts and tried to conceal my body as much as I could. I remained in the chair even though part of me demanded I get up and run. But I also knew there was no place to run to, and, even if I tried, I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could outrun Pope. One look at the man would tell anyone that he was in prime physical shape.
He walked in front of me and lifted his shirt above his head.
Fuck! He was getting naked! To have sex!
Not saying a word, he removed his shirt and put it over my head, then tugged it down, helping the fabric cover my body. His eyes made contact with mine, and I saw something different. The rage and fury I had seen earlier were gone. I couldn’t exactly figure out what I saw, but it was different. He stood up, placed his hands on his hips, and simply stared at my balled up self. His muscled chest before me reminded me of a gladiator in some blockbuster movie. Every curve seemed to be enhanced by the rippled contours of his physique. I expected to see tattoos—most likely because he was in prison and I had always assumed inmates had tattoos—but there were none that I could see.
Pulling my knees as closely to my chest as possible, I asked in a weak voice, “What are you going to do to me?”
He looked at his mother. “How could you do this? How?”
Her mouth opened and then closed.
“After everything,” he said with sadness lacing his voice. “After everything. How?”
“Pope, I tried. I tried!”
He shook his head, turned to look at me, and slowly extended his hand. “I’m Pope Montgomery. I promise you I will not hurt you in any way. You’re safe.”
I stared at his hand in disbelief and then back into his eyes. Safe? How the fuck was I safe?
When I didn’t reach out to take his hand, he pulled it away just as slowly as he had offered it. “What’s your name?”
I refused to answer. What the fuck was going on? Why was he acting like he didn’t know who I was? Like he had no idea I was even down in his cellar tied up? He looked over his shoulder at his mother for the answer.
“Her name’s Demi, remember? She’s the girl from the diner.”
It was then that he seemed to recognize me.
“What’s going on? Who are you people?” I couldn’t take it any longer. I had no idea what was happening. This multiple personality thing by the both of them was as disconcerting as it was disgusting. “Are you both trying to fuck with my head before you rape and kill me?”
“We aren’t going to rape or kill you,” Pope said calmly.
“Then what? What is it you want? Why did you kidnap me? To be your wife?”
Pope appeared as if my words stung. The perplexed look on his face only added to the insanity of my out of control nightmare. Why was he acting confused?
“My wife? What are you talking about?”
“Your wife!” I shouted as hysteria took over. “Your mother told me she was going to train me to be your wife! What kind of sick people are you?”
Pope walked over to his mother and grabbed her by her upper arms. “Momma, you tell me right now what is going on. Why did you do this?”
Viv shook her head. “I tried to stop her. I tried so hard! But she’s stronger than me. She has all the control when she wants it. I couldn’t stop it.”
Pope released his grip, and his head sunk to his chest as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. My body shook beneath the warmth of his cotton shirt that thankfully was large enough to cover most of my body as I waited for either one of them to explain what was happening. I was in the most fucked up episode of The Twilight Zone.
“I’m sorry, son. I am. It was out of my control.”
He finally looked up with glassy eyes, didn’t respond or acknowledge his mother, and then walked over to me. “Let’s get you out of here.” Without asking, he bent down, scooped me into his arms, and headed toward the stairs.
The brave part of me—the fighter—wanted to hit him and claw at his eyes. If I was going to be killed, I needed to have evidence of his DNA all over me so he would hopefully get caught. But something prevented me from doing so. Maybe it was the fear, or the exhaustion, or the insane mind fuck I had just encountered. Whatever it was, I remained motionless and allowed this man, this kidnapper—this killer—to carry me up the stairs and out of my dark prison.
8
Pope sat me down on a simple wooden chair with a floral cushion next to a large wooden farm table in the kitchen. The sun beamed through the lace curtains that hung over the large windows that were on two of the four walls. I had no idea what time of the day, or even what day it was, which added to my disorientation. The kitchen reminded me of something plucked right out of a Home and Garden magazine. Martha Stewart herself could have decorated it for all I knew. It had a country charm with the bright yellow wa
lls, the off-white cabinets accentuated with antique brass handles, and the oversized farm sink sunk in against large slabs of dark granite that made up all the surfaces. The refrigerator was far larger than they would ever need for two people, but it matched the masterful aura of the room. China plates of different patterns hung on the walls adding to the charm. If I wasn’t kidnapped sitting barefoot in my captor’s cotton shirt that smelled of his masculinity, and scared shitless, I would have actually enjoyed having a cup of coffee in a room such as this one.
I pulled my knees up to my chest again, feeling the strong urge to cover every inch of my skin with the oversized shirt. My survival skills were kicking in as I scanned the room for a way out of my hell. There was a door that led outside, but the large windows in the room showed me that we were indeed in the woods. All I could see were thick stands of trees all around. So even if I somehow made it out of the door and ran to the woods to hide—then what? I believed Vivian when she said we were out in the middle of nowhere. I was barefoot. How long would I survive against the elements of the woods with no idea which way to even run? I also noticed a knife block nestled up next to the toaster on the counter. There were six knives tucked into their proper slots.
Pope pulled me from my thoughts of planning my escape when he said, “I don’t know where to begin.”
His mother stood behind him, and by the intensity of her trembles, and her worried face, I could only assume she was still Viv. Pope leaned up against the counter and studied me as I sat in a ball on the chair.
Viv took a few steps toward me, but stopped when I flinched at her movement. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
I looked at her, then at Pope, and then back at her. “Why am I here? What are you planning to do to me?”
I wanted to cry, but I didn’t have any more tears to shed. I also didn’t want Pope to know how truly broken I felt. If he knew how weak and frightened I was inside, it would give him more of the upper hand. But my head swam, my heart pounded, and my gut wrenched. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be tortured, get raped, or even die in this sick and twisted game they were playing. I don’t know why I expected a kidnapping to be more black and white than this. It was as if I was expecting something that wasn’t playing out as I had thought. I had absolutely no idea how this story was going to end. In fact, I had no idea what the next line in the paragraph was going to be. If Pope and Vivian had planned to fuck up my mind, they had definitely succeeded in their mission. It was like how a cat toyed with its prey before finally killing it. A cat never mercifully executed the mouse or bird. No, the cat continually gave the victim hope by allowing it to move, to feel free for a few moments only to be pounced upon again, all before eventually meeting its demise. Pope and Vivian were the evil cat toying with me, but that also meant my demise was near.
“Nothing,” Pope said with firmness and even anger lacing the word. “Nothing at all.” He still had no shirt on, which only added to the bizarre element in the room. “My mother is,” he looked at her and then at me with sadness in his eyes, “sick.”
“I know,” I said softly, but that still didn’t explain why they kidnapped me. And why was I even talking to them? I should just lunge for the knives and stab one in their throats before they saw it coming. Just like the movies, I could suddenly have super human powers and the thirst to kill with a vengeance.
“Not just the Parkinson’s. She is sick in other ways.” I could see that Pope was struggling with what he wanted to tell me. Though he was still powerful in stature and appearance, his face and eyes told a different story. “She has split personalities. There is another person who comes out in her. One that she can’t control.” He looked at Viv who was staring down at the ground, appearing ashamed by her son’s confession. “The other personality inside her did this.”
Was this all part of the cat toying with the prey?
“I don’t need to know why you kidnapped me. I just want you to let me go.” I looked at Pope and then Viv frantically. “I won’t say a word. I won’t tell anyone. Please, just let me go, and I will never say a word. Just don’t hurt me.”
Viv looked up from the wood-planked floor. “My son had no part in this. He didn’t know.” I wasn’t sure if I rolled my eyes, or if my obvious disbelief was evident on my face, because she added, “She kept it all secret from him. She made sure he didn’t know. It’s why she had me keep you quiet the entire time. It’s why she had me drug you.”
“She?”
“Vivian. Vivian did this.”
Pope slammed his fist onto the counter causing both Viv and myself to jump. “How the fuck did this happen? How did she get here? You couldn’t have done this yourself. How?” His voice mastered the room and sent a chill down my spine. When his mother didn’t answer but only started to cry instead, he looked at me and asked, “How did you get here? Who did this?”
Could it be? Could Pope truly have had no idea his mother kidnapped me?
“You had no part in this?” I asked with narrowed eyes.
“None.”
“I find that hard to believe. How in the world could you have no idea you had a drugged, tied, and gagged woman in a box? How the fuck could you not know you had a naked and kidnapped woman in your wine cellar?” Anger sizzled my core. “Who the fuck do you take me for? There is no fucking way you weren’t part of this, so don’t even try lying to me! Just let me go! I just want you to fucking let me go!” I stood up, my legs feeling weak, and for a second I worried I would collapse right there. “You drugged me, you packaged me in a box, you loaded me on a truck, and transported me here by plane all to be your captured bride! Don’t you dare stand there and act like you have no idea what is going on! I don’t know why you and your mother are playing these games with me. Why are you doing this?” Tears cascaded from my eyes and my vision blurred. “Why? Why?”
Pope grabbed his mother by the arm. “Who helped you do this? There’s no way you could have done this by yourself. Who helped you? Tell me!”
Viv appeared terrified by her son’s aggressive behavior. “Richard,” she squeaked.
“Who the fuck is Richard… Your handyman? The man who helped move our stuff?” Pope’s voice intensified in volume. “The man knew she was in one of those damn boxes of yours? Are you telling me that you both drugged this woman and brought her here? Why the fuck would you do that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
For a minute, I wondered if he was going to hurt his own mother. The rage coursing through him was obvious in the way the veins in his body pulsated against his flesh. The color in his face reddened, and his jaw tensed with every single syllable of his words.
“I… I don’t know what to do. What are we going to do?” Viv looked so fragile as Pope towered over her.
“What are we going to do? What are we going to do? I have cleaned up your messes my entire life! We’re here in the middle of nowhere because of you. My life is destroyed because of you. I have given you everything! I gave you my freedom! I went to jail because of you! So how dare you ask me what we are going to do? You fucked me! Do you know what’s going to happen to me? When she goes to the police, they are going to lock me up for good. There is no we, Momma. There is only me and my fucked up life because of you!” Pope slammed his fist against the granite again and then stormed out the kitchen door before I could even take my next breath. The door slammed so hard that one of the china plates on the wall fell and shattered on the floor.
Stunned by Pope’s outrage, I stumbled back and sat down on the chair where he had first placed me. I looked at Viv with the odd desire to give her comfort. Something about her still pulled at my heartstrings even though I knew it was because of her that I was in this situation to begin with.
That was, until she looked at me.
Vivian had returned. I didn’t even need to hear the southern accent to know she had. I could see it in her eyes. I could feel the energy change.
With a swipe of her hand to wipe away the tears that Viv had shed, she calmly spo
ke in her elegant and eerie way. “Now, child. Look what you have done. You got Pope all upset.” She paused as I watched a surge of strength reenter her body. “He does have quite the temper. His father always did as well. But don’t you worry. I know how to handle a fiery passion such as his. As part of your training, we are going to have to work on how to keep a man from losing his temper. It’s the job of a good wife to understand how to placate and diffuse the alpha nature of such a man as Pope.” She walked over to where the shattered plate had fallen, knelt down, and picked up the pieces as if it were an every day occurrence.
I frantically looked over at the knife block, prepared to grab a weapon. This was the time. Pope was outside, Vivian was on her hands and knees with her back turned to me. This was the moment. Act now!
“It really would be a shame for Richard to have to hurt your dear friend Maria. He knows if he doesn’t hear from me at certain times of the day, to start going down my list of things to do to her and that darling baby. The list really is ghastly, but necessary, child. It serves a purpose for a greater good.”
I froze, no longer considering reaching for the knife. How could I? What if Vivian was telling the truth and had the ability to really hurt my friend?
“I feel simply dreadful over the fact that I missed my first check in with him ten minutes ago. With all the commotion and all, I was unable to call him.”
“Vivian! Please! Call him now!” Alarm bells rang, fear stabbing at my very core. “Please don’t hurt them. They haven’t done anything wrong. Please. Please.”
“Well, the first item on my list was to slash all four tires. Too bad really. I suppose it’s going to take that girl a full week’s salary to replace those. Poor Maria. I can only assume that working as a waitress and raising a baby makes her finances extra tight. Though it could be worse. The next item on my list is a fire I believe. An accident of course.” She chuckled lightly, looked over her shoulder at me, and gave a wicked smile. “A fire in an apartment building as old as theirs… Can you imagine the risk? I wonder if there are even proper fire alarms installed to warn them in the middle of the night.”