He was very stern, his words angry, but not toward me. It was puzzling why he’d feel so strongly against it, but I knew better than to ask. I simply nodded, making note that this all seemed too good to be true still.
“I usually work at night; the doors and windows are locked, so you’ll be safe here while I’m gone.” I knew what he meant. I’d be locked inside, safe from any chance of escape. With a deep sigh, I agreed, knowing my day would eventually come. “There’s not a lot to do here. We’re near the Okefenokee Wildlife Reserve, about an hour north of Jacksonville, along the Florida Georgia borderline. So, we’re pretty much surrounded by forest and swampland. Internet’s kinda spotty, but at least there’s electricity.” He softened his features as he continued. “Is there anything you’d like? We have a TV and DVD player, there’s a radio, but not much else.”
I thought about that for a minute. It seemed almost like a tease, a test, but his eyes were filled with genuine concern. Maybe, possibly, he was truly a nice guy after all. “Some books?” I whispered, scared of what his reaction might be.
“Books. Okay. What else?”
When I didn’t say anything, he shrugged his shoulders and smiled radiantly. “Anything. Just name it.”
“Some art supplies. You know, to draw with?” I felt my entire body vibrating in fear, my brain scolding me for being so bold and greedy. But his smile never faded. He simply nodded in approval.
“Done.”
“Really?”
“Well, on one condition.” There was a twinkle in his eye, one of childlike mischief combined with an intensity that intrigued me. “Well, two. Don’t try to run off on your own. If you want to go somewhere, I’ll take you. You have my word. But don’t risk taking off. They’ll only hunt you down and hurt you. And if you think what Alex put you through was hell, it’ll seem like heaven compared to what those fuckers would do.”
It was a lot to take in. I could tell him I agreed, that wasn’t the problem. I’d lied plenty of times to ensure my safety during my life. No, it was the offer to take me places. As in, I wasn’t an actual prisoner or servant. Was that possible?
“Okay. And what else?” I urged him along, feeling completely overwhelmed by everything.
“Your name?” he asked softly, almost reverently. “Or any name you’d like me to call you.”
Oh, this was too good to be true. People weren’t that nice to me. Not even before I was kidnapped. But what the hell, what did I have to lose? “Gwendolyn. Or Gwen.” I had assumed Alex would have filled him in on anything like that, but he must have used those details only to taunt me with when we were alone.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Gwen.” Nick held his hand out between us, offering something I’d forgotten how to accept. “It’s just a hand shake, nothing else. I swear.” He smiled again, urging me to take a leap of faith and see if he was telling the truth.
The moment I placed my hand in his, I remembered how he helped me out of that wretched house, away from that evil man, and so far, had been nothing but generous and kind to me. Tears like the Niagara Falls began showering my face, my chest hiccupping as I struggled to breathe. Glancing at Nick through the curtain of water coating my eyes, he was frozen, unsure of what to do with the crazy lady in front of him who had lost all control. I could tell he wanted to hug me or say something comforting, but he held himself back out of respect. Which made me cry even harder.
“It’s...not...you,” I bellowed, burying my head in my hands. “I’m just so...thank you.”
I felt his hand gently touch my back. He didn’t rub or try to pull me closer; he just rested his palm on me to let me know he understood. There was more power and meaning in that one simple gesture than a hundred hugs could’ve provided. After a few deep, stuttering breaths, I was slowly able to control myself again. Lifting my head, he pulled his arm away and stood quickly.
“I think I’ll let you have the bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch for tonight.”
Before I could respond, he hurried down the tiny hall and turned on the lights to the bedroom. Almost immediately, he was back and stood to the side. “You can lock the door if you’d like, too. But I’ll be here if you need anything.”
Standing on shaky legs, I followed his lead and decided not to argue over where I slept for the night. I was too tired anyhow. But more than that, a full night of sleep, feeling safe and secure, was more than I ever could’ve asked of him.
Before I closed the door, I turned to find him watching me. The sad look had returned to his eyes, but the minute I caught his attention, the caring and kindhearted man shone through again. “Thank you, Nick. Good night.” Before he could respond, I shut and locked the door. After testing it a few times to make sure it was truly locked, I slid the small nightstand in front of it to be certain and climbed into the bed.
Three Weeks Later
Over the past few weeks, we had grown into a routine of sorts. Nick went to work around eight every night, often not returning until six or seven in the morning. I’d sleep in the bedroom at night and be up before he’d get home. After he showered and ate, he then would sleep in the same bedroom I had while I cleaned the house, read, or worked on my drawings. I was surprised he didn’t make me sleep in the bedroom in the loft upstairs. It may not have had a bed, but it would’ve been better than what I’d been used to. Instead, he selflessly shared everything with me. During the evenings, before he’d leave for work, we often walked outside along the river or just sat on the porch and enjoyed the sounds of nature. It all seemed very docile. Too good to be true. I didn’t trust it in the least.
After my first excursion with him to the nearest town, which took almost twenty minutes one way by car, I was thankful I hadn’t tried to escape that first night. I would’ve been lost and eaten by wildlife if nobody else had found me first. The cabin wasn’t too far out in the country, but enough that it would take a few hours to jog and get anywhere. That is if I could find my way. The forests were extremely dense with only a few roads that intersected them between the cabin and the town. During my second excursion, we’d eaten at Big Mick’s Drive-In, a fast food burger joint where they brought the food out to our truck and placed it on trays that attached to the windows. I was amazed that places like that actually existed out of the movies. Not to mention that the food was some of the best I’d ever eaten. Yesterday, my third trip out of the house, we’d gone down to the road to a larger lake and spent a few hours fishing from his small boat. I should say he did the fishing and I enjoyed the setting sun with a pencil and paper in hand, but I like to think I had something to do with the seven fish he caught.
We didn’t have long drawn out discussions. We didn’t have the heart to heart talks that some might expect. We were both content just to be together. More often than I could count, I’d consider what I’d do if I could escape and run away. Every time I came to the same conclusion. Run where? Find my drug addicted family that may or may not still be in the same roach-infested trailer? Go get a job and live in a homeless shelter where Nick’s boss could easily find me at any time? Or try to survive off fish and squirrel up in the mountains somewhere? Even when the door was wide open, I felt trapped to some degree. But the fear I’d once felt was slowly beginning to fade away. In its place was a peaceful contentment I was growing to accept. I continually waited for the bomb to go off and everything to blow up and change. But so far, things had been exactly as he’d said; my days filled with calm and quiet in a home I was growing to love as my own.
Everything was calm, except for Nick. Every morning during the past two weeks, he came home angry at the world, spewing every cuss word he knew. From the moment he jumped out of his truck until he entered the house, I could hear his grumbling and upset words from deep inside the house. Even so, the minute he’d walk in, he reigned in his anger and offered me a genuine smile as he quickly took a shower and went to bed. It wasn’t until he woke around one in the afternoon that his emotions had faded and been replaced with a tenderhearted ki
ndness I’d never known before. I often wanted to ask him about it. I wondered how he’d grown into the man he was, and what could cause such a brutal change in demeanor every day. But I’d learned long ago to mind my own business. If we didn’t talk much when he was in a good mood, I could only assume that he had no desire to speak to me when he was upset.
“Hey there!” Nick called out as he came into the kitchen.
I was in the middle of drawing the trees along the riverbank from what I could see through the kitchen window and must’ve jumped a foot in surprise.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist.” He smiled, grabbing a few grapes from the fruit bowl on the table and tossing them into his mouth. “You’re so engrossed in your work there.” He spoke with his mouth full, trying to weasel his way around the table to see what I had drawn.
“Oh no. It’s my only rule. No looking until it’s completely finished.” I quickly covered it with a towel and went over to the refrigerator to retrieve the sandwich and potato salad I’d made earlier for him. “Hungry?”
“Famished.” He took the sandwich off the plate and started devouring it before realizing there was more I had made. “Mmmm, this is so good,” he mumbled around the bread and meat. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds since you arrived.”
His eyes were alive with mischief, making me wonder what was coming next. We may not have known each other very well, but I knew enough about him to tell when he was about to do something funny or announce something ridiculous.
“Today, I’m going to teach you some self-defense,” he declared, finally taking a seat and grabbing the plate filled with potato salad.
“Self-defense?” I questioned, surprised by his revelation and fully aware of my lack of coordination.
“Definitely.” He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask. I liked that about us. Short and sweet and to the point.
“Okay then.” I grabbed the second sandwich that had been waiting in the fridge and placed it on his plate. “Should I change clothes for this?” The only self-defense classes I’d ever seen were at the YMCA when my grandma would take me and my brother swimming when we were little. It looked more like karate than anything else, but Granny said it was a defense class so it was all I had to go on. Looking down at the long Boho skirt that almost reached the floor, I doubted it would be suitable for anything remotely similar.
“Some shorts or sweats will be fine. Did you get any of those when we went shopping?”
“Yeah, I’ll go grab a pair and change.” I wanted to laugh at his serious tone. He knew darn well that we had every single type of clothing I could possibly need. After eating at the drive-in, he’d taken me shopping for clothes, insisting I buy every outfit he held up, plus another fifty he didn’t. I was so amazed by his generosity, I hadn’t considered an escape the entire time we were out. It wasn’t until I was lying in bed that night, fully clothed in my new pajamas, that I realized I could’ve notified the cashier or left a note of some sort in the fitting room. That was when I put honest thought into where I was and how things had changed. Other than the lack of fulfilling my dream career, I felt safe and cared for, for the first time in my life. If this was what being a prisoner was like, I didn't mind it so much after all.
“Grab ahold of my shoulders and lift your knee like you’re going to kick me.”
“I can’t. What if I hurt you?”
“Really? That’s what you're worried about?” He chuckled. “Just trust me, I won’t let you finish the kick, no matter how bad you want to.” He winked, playfully keeping the mood light to encourage me.
With a deep breath, I did as he said and accomplished step one. He then spent the next fifteen minutes demonstrating and having me practice the most lethal ways to kick someone who was being a threat. I knew he was trying to progress to more difficult maneuvers as he’d forewarned me, but he took his time and made certain I mastered each one before moving on.
“Good. Now, I want you to learn how to get out of a headlock. It seems easy enough, but in the heat of the moment, it can mean life or death.” His serious tone was void of humor this time, catching me off guard and making me pay close attention. Knowing I’d be in the same position that had started my nightmare in Daytona was enough to seize control and threatened to overcome me. “I’m going to step up to you from behind, wrap one arm around your shoulders, then pull you tightly against my chest. Next, my arm will loop around your neck, and I’ll talk you through how to get out of it.”
Fear and panic shattered my resolve, any logic overrun by flashbacks of my previous abduction. I became paralyzed. Unable to rely on any rational thought. His words ignited a firestorm, twisting and building my anxiety to unbearable heights.
“Gwen, I don’t want that to happen to you again. I want you to be able to fight and get away if there’s ever another time like that. I won’t hold you too tightly. Okay?”
He gave me a few minutes to work it through on my own. His patience and understanding was astounding. I knew what he was saying was true. I knew this huge, muscular man who had enough power to take down an entire football team, wouldn’t hurt me in any way. But it took an extreme amount of focus to work through the fears and facts until my nerves were calm enough to continue.
What was that saying about good intentions? Yeah, I seriously screwed myself over on this one. My reasoning may have been good, but this was fucking torture! Day after day I was growing insanely attracted to her, even though I knew I’d never act on it. Now, my hair-brained idea to place her body flush against mine proved I had no brain whatsoever. Thankfully, when getting ready earlier, I’d put on a sports cup for protection, and the majority of my arousal would be hidden. I hadn’t told her that's why I wasn’t worried about her kicking me, but it had been my original intention. Now, I couldn’t have been more grateful for the uncomfortable piece of equipment shoved down my trousers.
She was nervously chewing her nail, her eyes focused on the floor. I knew from watching her during the past few weeks that she’d slowly work her way through her fears, but it still gutted me any time I felt like she was afraid of me.
After witnessing the change in her breathing slowly return to normal again, and her body gradually relaxing from its sudden tense state, I knew she was ready to continue. She just needed a little nudge to jump back in.
“Gwen?”
“Hmm?” she mumbled around the digit I was profoundly jealous of.
Clearing my throat, I focused on her safety and protecting her. That’s the only thing that mattered; definitely not my boyish fascination with getting laid. “Eyes up here.” I snapped my fingers softly, catching her attention and reminding her who was in front of her. “Good. Now, I want you to turn your body around so your back is facing me, but keep your eyes open. Okay?”
With a soft nod and eyes as big as a deer, she did as I instructed, dropping her hands to her side and step-by-step moving into the position I’d directed her to.
“I’m stepping up behind you now. Keep your eyes on my arm as it wraps around you.” I did my best to keep my motions slow and precise, afraid this would be too much and she’d bolt at any minute. “You’re doing great,” I whispered over her shoulder as one of my arms wrapped around her waist and the other gradually locked around her throat. Her chest began rising and falling rapidly, her hot breath escaping and blowing across my skin, shooting goose bumps throughout my body.
“Now, if you ever find yourself in this position, I want you to calm yourself first. Take a deep breath and focus on your escape instead of your demise. Duck your chin toward your chest, turn your neck if necessary, and then bite.” She nodded her head but didn't move a muscle. “Now, Gwen! Do just as I said and get free,” I urged her on, but still nothing.
Closing my eyes, I prayed that what I was about to do wouldn’t push her over the edge, and forcefully tightened my hold on her against my body. With my arm firmly pressing against her airway, the idea that she’d ever be taken again raged against my emotions. With more volume than I
’d intended, I raised my voice and demanded she get free. “Fight, damn it! Get free, Gwen!”
Tears pricked the edges of my eyes, but I refused to be a victim ever again. With a deep breath, I focused on what he’d told me to do, ducking my chin inside his arm. When I felt his body tense and his arm tighten even more, my eyes closed and my desire to survive kicked in. With a ferociousness I didn’t know I possessed, a deep growl tore from my chest as I opened my mouth as much as I could in the confined area. Without a thought of what I was doing, my teeth sank deep, latching onto him, and tearing his skin. Almost immediately, his arm loosened just enough that I could duck further and twist away. With quick motions, I released my bite and pushed his arm away while I spun in front of him. Before I could stop myself, my knee lifted and completed the kick he’d previously been working on with me. This time, with no hesitation and all the power I could muster.
“Ugh!” Nick fell forward, landing hard on his knees.
“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” I gasped, finally aware of how much I’d been lost in the moment.
“Uh-uh, I’m good,” he groaned, his head tucked and forehead against the floor.
“You’re bleeding!” His arm was dripping profusely against the wooden floor, long lines of red already staining his forearm.
“It’s... nothing,” he moaned, but I could see otherwise.
Shaking my head at how stupid I could be, I hurried into the kitchen and retrieved a towel from the drawer, quickly getting it wet before returning to him. By the time I returned, Nick was sitting on the couch with his legs stretched before him, his head back against the cushions, and his eyes closed in pain. His arm, still bleeding where my puncture marks remained, hung limply by his side.
“I’m so sorry, Nick.” I rushed around the sofa and sat beside him, grabbing his arm, and placing it in my lap. Without thinking about what I was doing, I began cleaning the wound I had inflicted, wiping away all the remnants of blood.
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