by Jenna Jacob
You’re so wrong. I found happiness, and compassion, and understanding. They know me better than you could ever hope to. But most of all, they give me acceptance, understanding, and unconditional love…all the things that were ripped from my world when Dayne died.
“I know you’re not proud of what you did.” Ryan shook his head in disgust. “But I don’t
want you beating yourself up for it, Liz. I can forgive you. I really can. We’ll just put all that ugliness behind us and move on. But by god I better not ever catch you doing something like that again, or you’ll be sorry. You got that?” Ryan barked, glaring at me with an insidious expression.
As I nodded, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I clenched my jaw to keep from keening in terror. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t find a thread of rationale to pluck from his unstable psyche and convince him to take me back home.
“Good, now let me tell you about the mountains. The cabin is amazing. All state of the art with every convenience you could want. Hell, there’s even a water purification and filtration system since there’s no running water. No electricity either, but that’s where the solar panels come in to play.” Ryan rambled on and on, not even taking his eyes off the road to see if I were paying attention. “My time there was cathartic. Liberating even. I finally realized why being in Chicago made me feel like I was crawling out of my skin; why I kept running away. It was the damn city. The crowded streets, traffic jams, pollution, noise, and constant chaos. I felt like a rat trapped in a damn cage. There was never anything wrong with me. It was everybody else. They were the problem.”
Spoken like a textbook sociopath.
It was becoming clearer and clearer that there was a whole lot wrong with Ryan. Had there been things I’d missed, or had I chosen to ignore how unstable he was over the years? But how in the hell had I missed the signs? I was a trained professional for fuck’s sake. Had I been so locked inside my own misery after Dayne’s death that I failed to see the monster hiding inside Ryan? Had I really been that blind?
No. You weren’t blind…you were lost.
Ryan and I met—of all places—at the cemetery where Dayne was buried. Ryan’s mother was one row over and two plots down. It was a gray and dismal day, but standing at the headstones of our respective loved ones, Ryan met my eyes, and I recognized the same bleak dullness that stared at me in the mirror each morning.
Thus our dysfunctional relationship was born. I had no business trying to forge a future after guilt and sorrow had stripped me to the bone. But I jumped at the chance anyway, wanting to prove to myself that I could carry on, or maybe simply share my grief with someone who understood.
Unfortunately, I leaned on Ryan in every way imaginable; and he let me. Eventually, he helped me find a tiny sense of closure, but more importantly, I wasn’t alone. Over time, I slowly became Ryan’s caretaker—just as I’d been for Dayne. There was comfort and purpose knowing Ryan needed me, at least until he abandoned me time and again.
Memories of my life with Ryan flashed through my mind, and I realized why I had stayed with a man that I never really loved. I’d put up with Ryan’s vanishing acts, out of obligation. Convinced myself that it was the only way I could pay back some unattainable debt, for him pulling me from the pit of grief.
He’d never wanted me to work, but being a nurse had been my salvation. In charge of life and death decisions, I stood tall and proud, but most importantly I could escape the role of co-dependent woman I’d trapped myself in at home.
My honest but gruesome self-assessment made me want to vomit.
“I found my freedom, and I know you will too,” Ryan prattled on.
I found my own freedom too, Ryan. I’m not letting you or anyone else take it from me.
“We’ll share it together, Liz,” he continued. “We’ll make a brand new start on that quiet, spacious mountain top.”
“You mean we’re going to Montana?” I gasped. “But… I—I don’t even have a change of clothes.”
A devious smirk curled on his lips. “Yes, you do. Your suitcase is in the trunk. Now don’t go getting all upset. Yes, I picked the lock on your door this morning, but it was just so I could pack up the things you needed.”
“You broke into my house like a fucking thief?” I couldn’t bite back my panic any longer.
“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s my home too. Remember? Why did you change the locks?”
Dramatic? Was he serious?
My bowels turned to liquid. Instinctively, I gripped the door handle. To do what? Jump out of a moving car, to break an arm or a leg, and land in the ditch on some deserted road? No, I had to bide my time and find a surer, safer way to escape.
“It’s breathtaking.” Ryan went on, oblivious to my mounting fear. “There are gorgeous, snow-capped mountains as far as the eye can see. No other houses, or cars. No people…it’s awe inspiring.”
Right. In other words totally isolated, so that no one could hear me scream.
“The air is crisp and clean,” Ryan touted wistfully. “And you’re met with the sound of nature, not sirens every morning. There’s a crystal, clear stream that runs through the property, with the fattest trout you’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to show you, baby. We’re going to be so damn happy together.”
My mouth watered as my stomach pitched. I swallowed rapidly to keep from puking. Hiding the fact that I was coming apart at the seams, I struggled to keep my shit wired tight until I could find help. There was no way in hell I was going to end up on some godforsaken mountain with a lunatic like Ryan.
“I need to use the restroom. Can you find a gas station or something?”
“Here, let me pull over.” Taking his foot off the accelerator, Ryan veered toward the grass-covered shoulder.
“I’m not going to pee on the side of the road,” I bit indignantly.
“Why not? You wanted me to leave you there a little bit ago.”
“I—I wasn’t thinking straight. I think the drugs were messing with my head. Please, can you just find a gas station? Someplace that has a real toilet, if you don’t mind?”
“I do mind.” His tone took on the sharp edge I’d begun to recognize; the one that warned me to tread lightly. “I don’t trust you, Liz. You might decide to do something stupid, like you did last night.”
Last night. James and Ian.
I couldn’t allow myself to dwell on thoughts of them, not without wanting to curl up into a ball on the seat and sob like a baby. Slamming a mental wall on their memory, I dug deep and tried to rationally plot out an escape.
“You can come in and hold my hand if you’d like,” I replied derisively.
“I plan on it.” He shot me an icy glare. “Because I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
Dread prickled through my veins as a tense silence filled the car. With each passing mile, my mind grew more alert, crisper and more determined. My thought process seemed to finally begin to align.
I knew Cindy would be frantic when I didn’t return from dinner. And while it often drove me nuts, I was glad that she watched over me like a mother hen. She would have tried my cell but when I didn’t answer she would have checked the parking garage. Once she discovered my car wasn’t there I knew Cindy would realize something was terribly wrong and alert Security.
Security. I could still see the word emblazoned over James’ massive chest the first night we’d met. Standing there in the ER waiting room, so rugged and alluring, the man had captured my heart; even when I thought he was gay. Would he and Ian think I’d purposefully abandoned them? No. They were smart. They’d suspect Ryan immediately. Then they’d begin looking for me. But they wouldn’t have a clue where to search. They’d never find me, especially if Ryan had turned off my phone with its GPS capabilities.
But James and Ian were private investigators, though I didn’t know exactly what they investigated. We’d never discussed their business…never had time. Did Ian and James search for missing persons, or did they simply track chea
ting spouses? How could my heart be so tightly tied to two men I still knew so little about?
Tears burned the back of my eyes and I wanted to free-fall down the chasm of hopelessness. No. I couldn’t allow myself the luxury. I had to fight. Giving up wasn’t an option.
In the distance, a faint glow of light illuminated out of the darkness.
“If there’s a town ahead, will you please stop?” I begged, hoping to play on Ryan’s sympathies. “I don’t think I can hold it much longer. I’m sorry. I’ll be good. You can trust me. I swear.”
“Well, since I think you’re being honest with me, okay,” Ryan replied begrudgingly. “But don’t do anything stupid, Liz. I have more drugs. I won’t think twice about shoving the whole damn bottle of them down your throat if you try to pull something stupid.”
“You won’t need to,” I assured him, forcing a steady, strong voice. “I’m anxious to see the paradise you’ve described.”
Ryan studied me like a bug under a microscope. I knew he was looking for the tiniest crack in my veneer to determine if I were lying. Forcing a soft smile of sincerity, I prayed my act was convincing.
“Whew, darling. I’m so glad to hear that,” he declared with a huge smile.
The lights of the town grew brighter. I stared out the window, looking for a hint of where we might be. We zoomed past a huge, brick landmark that read ‘Welcome To Grinnell.’
Grinnell what? Illinois? I’d never heard of the town. Where the hell had he taken me?
Ryan pulled into a brightly lit gas station. There were four cars parked in front of the small convenience store, all bearing Iowa license plates.
Grinnell, Iowa. Okay, that’s a start.
As Ryan turned off the engine, a big, black pickup truck pulled alongside the pump next to us. My heart beat in triple time until I watched an older man with a potbelly slide out of the vehicle. I swallowed down a scream of despair.
“Stay in the car while I fill up with gas. I’m trusting you, Liz.” Ryan pinned me with a threatening glare.
When he yanked the keys from the ignition, I gave him a confident nod. I wasn’t about to give him any reason to doubt my sincerity. While Ryan stood between the pump and the rear quarter panel of the car, I watched men, women, and children enter and exit the little convenience store.
Hope soared as I hatched a plot to escape Ryan. If I could wander a few feet away from him, I might be able to snag the attention of a Good Samaritan. It might be the break I needed to end this surreal nightmare.
The gas cap snapped shut and I jumped. Seconds later Ryan opened my door as I disengaged the seatbelt and reached for my purse.
“Leave it. You won’t need it,” he instructed with a low growl.
Trembling in anticipation and a whole lot of fear, I climbed out of the car. Ryan gripped my elbow, his fingers pinching into my flesh as he hurried me inside the brightly lit store. Gazing toward the floor, Ryan shielded his eyes while I frantically searched for some big, burly farmer, or beefy, farm hand who I could engage with a frightened glance. Unfortunately the store’s traffic had dwindled down to a couple of middle-aged women yelling at a trio of hyperactive kids running through the aisles. I couldn’t even find the old man with the round belly who’d parked beside us. Hope started to wane.
Ryan hauled me to the ladies’ room, then jerked me around to face his furious glare. “I’ll let you go in alone, but I’ll be waiting right here when you come out. Take care of your business fast. Don’t make me come in after you.”
“I’ll hurry,” I replied in as carefree a timbre as I could muster.
“You do that.”
Stepping inside, the first thing I noticed was the toilet in the dilapidated bathroom. Closing and locking the door I discovered a sink and a small mirror on my left. I hadn’t seen them when I’d walked in because they were hidden behind the open door.
“Perfect,” I mumbled under my breath.
Rummaging through the pockets of my scrub top, I discovered that not only was my cell phone missing, but my scissors and surgical marker as well. All that remained were a couple of alcohol preps, and a new lancet used to draw blood for glucose level tests.
Twisting the cap off the lancet, I jabbed the needle into the tip of my finger. Pressing the column of the digit I squeezed and squeezed, watching a bead of blood expand to the surface. Carefully raising my hand, I began to write a message on the mirror. Stopping numerous times to pinch more blood the end of my finger, I was finally able to write the words: ‘HELP! KIDNAPPED’ on the glass surface.
“Someone is in there right now,” I heard Ryan say as I cleaned the end of my finger with one of the alcohol preps.
Quickly emptying my bladder, I stared at the message on the mirror. I hoped whoever waited outside wouldn’t come tearing out of the bathroom screaming in fright from my bloody plea. A moment of panic had me questioning whether I should leave the message, or wash off the mirror.
No. Leave it. You don’t have many options. Take your chances on a stranger. This might be your only shot at freedom.
After flushing the toilet, I washed my hands as a knock came from the door.
“Hurry up, Liz,” Ryan barked.
“I’m coming,” I replied.
Glancing at the mirror one last time, I swallowed tightly and pulled open the door. A tired looking woman in her late fifties leaned against the wall wearing an expression of impatience. Everything about her features clear down to her posture told me this was a mistake. She wasn’t the kind of woman who would lend a helping hand.
“Sorry for the wait,” I apologized, holding her gaze a second or two longer than normal.
She grunted and stepped in behind me. Ryan grabbed my elbow once again and led me back through the tiny store. My heart hammered in my chest as I heard the bathroom door close, then the snick of the lock engage.
Swallowing the lump of fear lodged in my throat, I knew that if the woman chose not to get involved, I’d have to bide as much time as I possibly could in the now deserted mini market. Refusing to give up hope, I prayed an entire professional football team would parade through the front doors and save me. Fat chance. Glancing frantically around the store, I spied a coffee machine in the corner.
“Can I have a cup of coffee for the road?” I asked, hoping he didn’t suspect I was stalling.
“You can have a soda; it’s faster,” Ryan groused as he dragged me to the tall refrigeration units along the back wall of the store.
I glanced up as the woman rushed out of the bathroom. Her eyes were wild as she jerked her head in my direction. Ryan had his back to me as he opened the glass door and reached inside. I gave the woman a barely perceptible nod, as bewilderment and alarm settled over her face. She rushed toward the clerk—a young pimply-faced kid—standing behind the counter.
My entire body tensed. Ryan shoved a can of cold soda into my hand, but it slipped through my fingers. Landing with a thud on the yellowed, linoleum floor, the side of the can cracked. A hiss of carbonated soda sputtered in a brown arc and began to puddle on the floor.
“Damn it, Liz,” Ryan barked. “Look at the mess you made.”
But my attention wasn’t on the can. It was on the clerk and the woman, gaping at us in fear, standing frozen by the cash register at the front of the store.
For fuck’s sake, pull out a gun or a baseball bat, kid. Call the cops. Do something.
“What the fuck did you do?” Ryan spat.
“I—I’m sorry. It slipped out of my hand.”
“I’m not talking about the goddamn soda, you stupid bitch,” Ryan growled.
Glaring at the matching terrified expressions of the young clerk and woman, Ryan gripped a fist in my hair and dragged me toward the exit, past my only chance of rescue and straight out the door.
“You hold on a minute, mister,” the kid called from behind the counter. “You can’t—”
Before he finished his sentence, the door swung shut behind us. Ryan dragged me toward the car while I
dug my heels into the pavement. My rubber-soled shoes provided little resistance, not nearly enough for me to break free. Releasing my hair, Ryan twisted my arm behind my back with an angry growl. I screamed as pain shot through my shoulder.
“You lied to me, you stupid cunt. I can’t believe you fucking lied to my face,” Ryan roared. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time, haven’t you? Fucking bitch, you probably lied to me the entire time we were together, didn’t you? How many years have you been fucking those two guys? Have you been screwing them from the very start?”
“No. No,” I cried. “Goddamn it, Ryan. Let me go. You can’t make me go with you. I’m not a prisoner. It’s over.”
“Watch me,” he snarled. “I’ll make you love me again.”
Wrenching open the passenger door, Ryan shoved me inside, slamming it behind me so hard the whole car rocked. Racing around the front of the vehicle, his narrow eyes bore into me. He glared at me as if he expected me to make a break back into the store. I would have, but I knew I’d only get a few yards away before he tackled me to the ground.
Shaking with fear, tears streamed down my face. I’d failed. Failed to escape the madman, I’d foolishly thought I knew. How did my plan go so horribly wrong? I hadn’t a clue. The only thing I knew for sure was that Ryan wouldn’t give me another chance to escape.
Ryan dove in behind the wheel, I couldn’t even look at the man. Turning my attention out the passenger window, I saw the clerk and woman running toward us, screaming and waving their hands. Too little, too late. Ryan revved the engine and jettisoned out of the parking lot, cursing and screaming at the top of his lungs.
The tires squealed as he jerked the car to the right, then jammed his foot on the accelerator, jettisoning us down another two-lane road. The marker showed one forty-six, and I jumped as Ryan slammed his fist against the steering wheel.