by Stella Hart
I waited a moment, then tentatively approached his prone body and rifled in his pockets for his keys. Shit! No car keys, only the cell and shelter keys. I suppose I could risk running up to the house to find the car keys in there, but I had no idea where exactly he’d put them, and I could lose five or ten minutes searching for them in there. Maybe even more.
I didn’t have that kind of time, because Alex wouldn’t be totally incapacitated for very long. He’d definitely feel sick for a few days after this, but once the acute effects had passed, he’d be able to get up and walk again. Those acute effects would probably last half an hour, but if I was unlucky it could be less. I might only have ten minutes.
Without access to a car, I’d have to head down the long, tree-lined driveway to the main road and make my way from there on foot, running as fast as I could. Surely there’d be some sort of shelter nearby where I could hide out and stay warm while I figured out my next move. Even better, a car might go past and rescue me.
“Celeste… please,” Alex croaked, trying and failing to grasp my leg again as I stepped away from him. “It’s not s-safe out there....”
I stood there, coiled and hissing on the inside as I glared down at his pathetic, weakened form. “Oh, you think I care about a bit of snow and frostbite? I’d rather lose all my toes than stay here and lose my life!”
His eyes bulged and he shook his head. “No. Please… kill… if you have to. But... those circle... don’t… please stay….” He was incoherent now, wheezing and babbling like a madman as his entire body convulsed.
Time to go.
I knew the ground outside was covered in snow, and I didn’t have shoes. I’d have to take Alex’s and run as fast as I could, as awkward and clunky as that would be. Better than nothing, I guess.
I pulled them off his feet along with his thick wool socks, and I stole his jacket too. I put them all on before looking down at him. He was still convulsing, but he was staring right at me. I thought I would see rage or hatred in his eyes. But all they held was sadness. Fear. Disappointment.
A frozen piece at the deepest part of me began to melt.
No. I snapped my gaze away and headed for the barred door, my hands shaking as I slid the key into the heavy lock. I couldn’t let myself feel this kind of gut-wrenching guilt. Not after the things this man had done to me. If I did, I’d never get away. I’d lose myself to him, and then I’d die here.
When I was out, I locked the cell door for good measure, even though there was a combination on it, meaning he could probably open it with a memorized code as a failsafe in case of events just like this. It might only buy me an extra thirty seconds, but I needed all the time I could get.
Refusing to let myself look at him again, I dashed up the concrete steps and opened the shelter door. Frigid winds blasted me immediately, but I ignored the chill and took a deep breath, letting my mouth fall open. For the first time in weeks, I tasted true freedom.
Somehow, it didn’t taste as good as I thought it would.
17
Celeste
I dashed out into the night, quickly finding my way to the narrow road which I knew led to a bigger road. I saw it when Alex brought me out of the shelter for punishment, and it looked wide enough to be a real road and not just part of this property, wherever it was.
My heart pounding, I headed toward it, the moon my only source of light. The end of the driveway was probably about two or three hundred yards away, but it felt like miles and miles as I pushed my way through the icy winds. It was difficult to run in Alex’s big shoes, and I stumbled on the snow and fell forward as I made a futile attempt to run faster.
Keep going, keep going, my brain chanted at me as I picked myself up and tried to catch my breath, which had been knocked out of me when I fell. I’d only been outside a few minutes and already I was freezing, my body jerking in shuddering aches that followed every shiver. I had to ignore it, had to keep running.
Finally, I reached the end of the driveway and peered into the darkness, trying to figure out which way to go. On my left, the road seemed to stretch for miles into nothing. No buildings, no lights. The right didn’t seem much better, but as I squinted hard, I could just make out a small sign in the distance.
Spurred on by the hope that the sign might tell me where I was and how close to help I could be, I went right and made my way down the wide road, sticking to the edge just in case. There were trees there that could provide cover if need be.
My heart suddenly lifted. In the distance, I could see tiny lights. I picked up the pace, ignoring the pricking pain of the cold. Then I realized what the lights were. It was a car, miles in front of me, and it was heading in the same direction I was running, away from me. So far away there was no hope of seeing me all this way behind it.
My shoulders slumping with disappointment, I sank to my knees to rest and catch my breath. Only for a minute, and then I needed to keep moving.
I got to my feet, and my heart skipped a beat as I realized I’d almost reached the sign I saw earlier. Drawing closer, I could see that it was a decrepit old thing, which didn’t inspire very much hope, but when I trudged toward it and scanned it, I almost cried with relief. Gas. Bread. Milk. 2 miles.
There was also an arrow on it, pointing in the direction I was going.
A violent shiver shook me again, teeth chattering loudly in the quiet darkness. My nerves sparked in desperation, my body’s desperate attempt to create warmth. It was just two miles till safety. I could make that before succumbing to the cold.
As I ran, I thought about Alex lying there in the cell, convulsing and weak. Part of me still felt bad for what I’d done, and for leaving him, but the rational side of me quickly quashed the thought. No, I wasn’t sorry. He was a heartless monster. He deserved what he got. Besides, he wouldn’t die. He’d be fine once he recovered.
It wasn’t long till the gas station came into view. There were no lights on, so all I could see was the building silhouette in the distance, but that didn’t deter me. It was obviously very late at night, so it was closed. I could still break in somehow and use a phone or computer to get help.
My heart began to pound even faster with excitement and anticipation from the idea of being saved. I approached the gas station, and I stopped in my tracks and shook my head. “Shit!” I said out loud, suddenly wanting to sink to my knees and sob. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen….
The gas station was abandoned. Windows boarded up, faded old signs that hadn’t been touched in years. No hope.
A tear slid down my cheek as I drew in deep breaths and wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing my hands up and down. I could no longer ignore the cold. I was hopeless against it as it tightened my weak, exhausted muscles again and again. I was tired. So tired. I felt like I might just keel over and die any second. Maybe I would die right here, in front of this dilapidated old building in the middle of fucking nowhere.
I mentally kicked myself for not going into the house and searching for Alex’s car keys. I thought I wouldn’t have enough time before he was able to get up and come after me, but surely it was a better option than this. I should’ve taken the damn risk.
Better yet, I could’ve gone into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. I could’ve gone back down to the cell and sliced his Achilles tendons so that he couldn’t chase me even if he wanted to. Or stabbed him to death.
In the heat of the moment, it hadn’t occurred to me that I could do that. That I should do that. I’d been so set on the idea of getting the hell off his property that the idea of finding some other way to incapacitate him simply hadn’t dawned on me. Idiot!
A sneaky, creeping voice in the back of my head whispered to me, asking if perhaps I’d done it on purpose. Perhaps part of me didn’t want to kill him, and part of me didn’t really want to get away. Perhaps that part of me blocked my rational mind just long enough to sabotage my escape plan.
“No!” I said out loud. That wasn’t true. I wanted to escape. I wante
d freedom. If it had occurred to me at the time to find another weapon and kill Alex once and for all, I would’ve done it. Right?
Violent tremors shook me as I trudged toward the abandoned building before me. Even if there was no phone or computer in there, I could still find warmth inside. There might even be an old map of some sort in there; something that could tell me exactly where I was, or the location of the nearest house aside from Alex’s.
I kicked the boarded door in, finding it surprisingly easy. It must’ve been all the adrenaline flooding through me. Either that or the wood was rotting.
The station was pitch dark inside without the moonlight to guide me, and I waited for my eyes to adjust to the room before hunting around. My heart soared as I turned and made out some words on a faded old sign directly behind me, near the main window. Payphone outside.
I dashed back outside, desperately hunting around the perimeter of the gas station for the phone. Even though the place was abandoned, it might still work, and 911 was a free call.
Yes! There it was, around the back of the building. Elated, I ran toward it, hoping this wouldn’t prove to be yet another disappointment. The receiver was thickly coated with grime and dust, but I didn’t hesitate to pick it up. A faint dial tone sounded in my ear, and to me, it was the sound of a thousand angels singing.
With trembling hands, I began to dial. 9—1—
Before I could press the final 1, the phone was ripped right out of my hand.
18
Celeste
I screamed and tried to duck away from my assailant. I didn’t need to look to know it was Alex. “No! No!”
“I thought I’d find you here.” His voice rang out only inches from my left ear, confirming his presence.
Despite my attempt to get away, he caught me instantly. His arms wrapped around me from behind, roughly dragging me away from the payphone. I reached my arms out, desperate to cling to anything that wasn’t him, but he was too strong for me, and soon I was being hauled back around to the front of the gas station. “Don’t even try to run again,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.
“No!” I cried out again, kicking and digging my feet into the snow in a futile attempt to slow him. “Help! Help!”
“Don’t bother. No one can hear you. There’s no one for miles.”
“Let me go!” I kept shrieking and digging my feet in.
“No.” Despite my struggles, he picked me up effortlessly and held me in his arms, clutching me so hard his nails dug into me. Then he began to walk toward a dark SUV about a hundred yards down the road. He must’ve kept his headlights off and parked that far away so I’d never see or hear him coming.
I didn’t give up. I kept screaming and squirming, trying to break free from his hold. But it was no use. No one was coming to help. No one saw or heard anything.
Alex put me down for a second, gripping me with one hand as he opened the back of the SUV. Then he shoved me inside and shut me in. Some distant part of my mind felt grateful that he brought this car instead of the other one with the closed off trunk that he’d transported me in originally. At least in this SUV, I could see over the top of the way-back area and scream at him. He couldn’t ignore me.
“I’m not sorry!” I shouted at him as he got into the front and slipped his keys into the ignition. “You’re lucky I didn’t fucking kill you! I could have, you know!”
He didn’t reply. He simply started the SUV and pulled out onto the dark road, heading back toward his property.
I shook with fear and rage as I contemplated what might happen next. I knew he was furious. He would punish me terribly. Hurt me for hurting him. The thought of torture made me shudder, and I began to cry silently, salty tears slipping down my face as I crumpled. I couldn’t let him see me like this. Couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he made me cry.
When we arrived back at his house, he opened the back and reached in, strong arms yanking me out. I fought him all the way, screaming and pounding at him with my small fists. “Go ahead!” I shouted. “Whip me again! I don’t care. There’s nothing you can do that’ll make me sorry for trying to leave! So do it. Whip me as much as you want!”
He stopped for a second, and his lips curled up in a nasty smile. “Oh, I see. You thought that was a real punishment the other day.”
I shrank back. Wasn’t it?
Before I could reply, he threw me over his shoulder and strode toward the front door of the house. He was probably going to take me to his torture chamber and drill holes in me. Or yank my teeth and fingernails out one by one.
As much as I feared the pain, my mind kept wandering to another fear, one that had been niggling at my brain ever since he caught me at the phone. Maybe even before, but I was able to push it away then, pretend it didn’t exist. I couldn’t ignore it now; couldn’t ignore the sinking, wretched feeling in my stomach. It was eating me up inside.
It wasn’t a fear of death. It was a fear that he hated me now, that he wouldn’t want to take me back. That he was done with me. I didn’t want to crawl on my knees and beg him not to kill me, but the thought that he might hate me and want to get rid of me as soon as possible filled me with unbearable pain. I hated him, and I hated what he’d done to me, but I couldn’t squash my feelings for him anymore. It was so obvious now.
Part of me actually wanted him, as much as I’d tried to convince myself that I despised him with every inch of my soul.
I tried to soothe myself by repeatedly chanting inside my head that it was just Stockholm syndrome. I wasn’t falling for this man. I shouldn’t, I couldn’t, I wouldn’t.
I went limp as he carried me down the hall, toward the torture chamber. I was right. He was done with me, and he wanted me dead and buried as soon as possible. I began to sob on his shoulder then. Aching, unceasing, heart-wrenching sobs.
Maybe I could apologize, but he’d know I didn’t mean it. Despite my newly-realized feelings for him, I still wasn’t sorry that I tried my best to gain my freedom back. So I stayed silent and continued to cry my eyes out, wetting his jacket with my tears.
To my surprise, he didn’t open the torture room door. He took me into a small bathroom instead, the same one where he’d given me painkillers and water after my whipping the other week. After flicking the light on, he dropped me onto the cold tiles and turned the shower on. I didn’t try to get up. Didn’t try to run again.
He stripped me of everything, then picked me up and put me inside the shower cubicle, holding me up under the water. It was probably only lukewarm, but it felt scalding on my frozen skin. In the light, I could see my nails were tinted with blue, and my skin had never been paler. After five minutes under the water, my blood began to warm and my skin flushed red, but my teeth were still chattering and my nipples ached from how stiff they were.
Alex made the water hotter and left me under it for another few minutes. Then he pulled me out and dried me with a rough towel before wrapping me in a thick blanket. He crouched down in the cupboard for a moment, then came up with a hypodermic needle.
Shaking, I stepped back. “No. Please….”
“It’s atropine for organophosphate poisoning. I gave it to myself too. You may have been exposed to toxic levels from touching the roach baits. Unlikely, because there was so little of it, but we’re better safe than sorry,” he said. He paused to pull my left arm out from the blanket, then jabbed the needle into my upper arm. “This will help stop you from suffering any of the long-term side effects in case you were affected.”
Tears slipped down my face again. He hadn’t outright said it, but if he was helping my body recover from the cold and any possible side effects of toxic exposure from the roach baits, then that meant he wasn’t going to kill me. He wanted me alive.
“I’m not sorry I tried to escape,” I murmured, looking up at him. “But I am sorry I hurt you.”
He looked down at me, not with contempt, but pity. “I know.”
“You’re still going to punish me, aren’t yo
u?” I said in a ragged whisper.
He nodded. “You know you need it.”
Some sick, deep-down part of me actually agreed with him, but I squashed the feeling immediately. I looked down at the tiles and my legs trembled. The quivering wasn’t from the cold now. I was warming up, but I was petrified of what my next punishment would involve. Alex might want me alive, but he was sadistic and cruel. Whatever it was, it would be terrible.
He led me out of the bathroom, fetched some plain clothes for me, then took me back outside and carried me toward the shelter door. Minutes later, I was back in my cell, with all its depressing shades of gray.
“When will you punish me?” I asked as Alex locked me in.
He stared down at me. “Ask me properly.”
I swallowed hard. “When will you punish me, sir?” I said softly.
“I’m not going to tell you. That’s part of the punishment. You will wait, and you will wonder.”
“I hate you.” I narrowed my eyes, instantly filled with rage for the man standing before me. I was on a rollercoaster of emotion when it came to him. One minute I was realizing my feelings for him and terrified he wouldn’t want me anymore, and the next, I hated him all over again.
Alex smiled thinly at my response. “You’re a real fighter, aren’t you? You keep pretending to surrender all control to me, but you’re always plotting against me. Always trying to stay in control.”
“Yes, because I’m a fucking person! I’m not a thing!”
He stared down at me rigidly. “You can be a person and still give up control. I wonder how long it’ll take for you to realize that.” He paused. “I wonder how long it will take for you to realize you’re mine.”
“I won’t.” I gritted my teeth.