by David Archer
Whenever someone becomes fixated on a person, they're almost always disappointed when the reality of the situation doesn’t turn out to be anything like what they imagined it would be. Now in her situation, that disappointment would probably lead eventually to her death, which is what she wanted to avoid in the long run.
If she could avoid being a disappointment to him, at least for a while, it would give her dad and the others more time to come and find her. She didn’t have any doubt she could pull it off, but she had to consider just how far she would be willing to go to try to convince him there was hope of his dreams coming true.
Okay, so what was it he expected of her? Well, obviously, he had it in his head that Angela should love him, just as he was convinced that he loved her. That certainly wasn't going to happen, but it didn’t have to be true; it just had to be believable, at least for a while.
Ugh. That would mean kissing him, letting him touch her. Of course, the alternative would probably end with him touching her anyway, but with that damned hypodermic, and sooner or later it would be for the final time. Maybe a kiss wouldn’t be too high a price to pay. For that matter, if it came to it…
The door to the basement suddenly opened, and Angela hated the fact that she was so exposed. She watched him walk slowly down the stairs and approach her.
"Oh, good, you're awake," he said with a smile. "How are you?"
Angela opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to actually converse with this monster, let alone pretend to love him.
"Angela?" Damn, he actually looks concerned!
"I'm fine," she got out at last. "Not really all that fond of being tied up."
"I'm sorry," he said and reached out to stroke her cheek. Angela couldn’t help but tense up. "It's just for now, baby. I'm afraid you might get confused and try to run away again."
Oh God, I can't believe I'm actually doing this .
She forced a sweet smile to her face and tried to reassure him. "I'm not going anywhere."
The man before her smiled a big smile and leaned in for a kiss. She lifted her face and let his lips brush against her own, but then quickly turned her head away.
"I think the strap is too tight on my ankles," she said.
He leaned back and looked at her, suspicion on his face.
Angela smiled up at him again. "I think it’s just a little too tight,” she said. “My feet are cold, like they’re not getting enough circulation, you know?”
"If I take it off," he asked, “you won’t try to run from me?”
She smiled again. "I told you,” she said. “I don’t want to go anywhere. Why would I run away, after we just got together?”
He looked as if he was about to die of happiness. Quickly, he knelt down and used something to cut the strips that held her ankles to the legs of the chair. Angela thought for a second about trying to kick him now that her legs were free, but she knew that would get her nowhere. She fought the urge and continued to smile as he looked adoringly up at her face.
And then, as he rose to his feet again, he moved his hand up Angela's leg until he was touching her thigh. She froze, and for a second she thought she was going to be sick, but she forced it back. Just the thought of this monster touching her was enough to make her feel ill, but she kept her composure. Disgusted as she was, she knew that she would do whatever it took to survive, but he’d already seen the expression on her face.
"What's wrong?" the man asked, suspicion in his features once more.
"I feel nauseous," she said, the first truthful answer she had given him. “I think it might be because of sitting like this for so long, but I’ll be okay.”
"Are you going to throw up?"
She thought fast. "I might," she said. “I'm sorry.”
Without another word, the man walked up the stairs again. Angela stared after him, confused. It wasn't until he appeared in the doorway again and walked toward her that she realized he had gone to get her another bucket.
Well, he must really regard her as a prize, right? Here he was, bringing a rusty old bucket for her to be sick in, rather than just dragging out the one under the chair. Just great. He held out the bucket to her, but she just stared back at him.
"Well, I don't know what you expect me to do with that since my hands are tied," she snapped.
There was a sudden flash of anger in his eyes, a flash that lasted less than half a second, but it was there and it terrified her. It was a harsh but necessary reminder that it would not be wise to give him any attitude at all.
She took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."
"No, you're right," the man said, his voice very tense despite agreeing with her. He still did nothing, only staring at Angela's bindings. That's when she realized it might actually be working. Her being nice to him, pretending to want him, it almost seemed to really be working. There was a little hiccup with the nasty comment she’d made, but she could tell that he wanted to be nicer to her. She just needed to stay on his good side.
"You need to trust me," Angela said softly. "Relationships are built on trust. If you can't even trust me to hold a bucket while I feel this nauseous, then why would I trust you?" She smiled shyly. “You do want me to trust you, don’t you?”
He stared at her for several seconds then, maintaining eye contact. Angela tried her best to stay strong and not flinch or do anything that would give her away as the fraud she was, and it actually frightened her a bit that she seemed to be pulling it off.
He smiled and put the bucket on the floor, took a small pair of wire-cutters out of his pocket and bent to the plastic strips that held her wrists. Once her hands were untied, he handed her the bucket, just in case she really would be sick. Angela smiled up at her captor, surprised that she had actually convinced him to untie her.
Still holding the bucket clutched to her chest, using it to recover a bit of her modesty, she forced herself to smile at him. “Thank you,” she said.
The idea came to her as quickly as the last one, and it seemed just as crazy, but considering how well that one had worked, she decided to trust her instincts. In one quick motion, she raised the bucket up and smashed it down on his head as hard as she could. He toppled over and fell face down on the floor, groaning. She hoped he would lose consciousness, but she wasn’t willing to wait around and see, as she jumped out of her chair and sprinted up the steps of the basement. When she reached the door on top, she was thrilled to find it was still unlocked. She pushed it open and ran through it, not even sparing a second to glance back down and see if he was on his feet.
The first thing she noticed when she got up the stairs was how dark it was outside. She could finally look out the window and saw that it was either very late at night or very early in the morning. The next thing she noticed was how normal the house appeared, so normal it frightened her. How could such a crazy man live in such a normal-looking house? She pushed back that fear and ran through the house until she came to what she thought must be the back door and pushed it open, expecting to find herself in a typical desert backyard.
She was in that kind of yard, all right, but it was surrounded by fences that were way too high to climb, especially for someone as short as she was. There was a bench made of concrete, but it was too far from the fence to help her get over it, and far too heavy to move. She spun around, hoping to be able to make another dash through the house, only to find the door blocked by the man she was trying to escape from.
There was blood running down his face from where she hit him, making him look even more maniacal and dangerous than ever. He was holding a syringe in his hand, and it looked like he was using every ounce of willpower not to scream. He looked as furious as he did when he saw her with the phone. Her heart sank as he started to walk toward her. She started to back away from him, quietly begging him not to do anything.
It wasn't until her back hit the fence and she knew there was no escape that she felt her tears actual
ly begin to fall.
He didn't say a word as he brought the syringe to her neck and pushed the liquid through. She lost all energy and she could feel her knees give way. He caught her as she started to fall, and in any other situation she would have been disgusted simply by his touch. As it was, she was just grateful to get a reprieve from the headache from hell.
She let the drugs take her away to the only place where she might be safe from him.
* * *
Angela didn't know what time it was when she woke up at last. At first, as always, all she could notice was the incessant pounding in her head. When she finally willed herself to open her eyes, she was surprised to see a little sliver of light come in from high above her, most likely a window that had been covered. As she looked around the room she had become so familiar with one more time, she was surprised and terrified to see her captor standing in a dark corner of the room. She took in a deep breath to calm herself down, or at the very least keep the bile down. She briefly wondered if she would still be able to try and play on his good side again, but figured she probably shot that chance down the day before. It was unlikely he would believe her this time.
Alan Batts maintained a stoic face as he approached Angela. She was once again tied to the chair and she looked terrified now that she was awake. He felt bad about tying her up again, but the fear of her leaving him again overrode any of that. When he was only a couple steps away from Angela, her eyes finally met his. The fear was still there, but so was a hint of determination. She didn't say a word, her mind clearly working hard to think of her next plan of action. Alan would wait patiently as she ran through all of them before returning to her normal self. He would wait patiently until she realized that he was doing this for her. He would wait patiently until she realized that she loved him just as much as he loved her.
"Alan," Angela said tentatively. "How long have I been here?"
"This is your second day home," he responded. Angela visibly shivered at his word choice.
"You need to let me go, I need to go to my family," Angela tried.
"I could be your family."
"No, I need my dad, my brother, my—"
"Boyfriend?" Alan spat the word out. Angela froze and stared at him. She had seen all the different sides of him in her short time there, but she had never seen him quite so angry before. She took a second to think about her next words, knowing she had one shot at calming him down.
"I don't have a boyfriend, Alan," she said quietly.
"Yes you do, you and that bastard are going to get married! He's disgusting, he's not good enough for you, he's not what you need!"
"Alan, I don’t have a boyfriend," Angela said, thinking carefully before speaking. "I have some friends I hang out with, but that’s all. I don’t have a boyfriend, because I hadn’t found a man who I thought was good enough, like you said." She forced a smile. “Until now, anyway.”
Alan visibly calmed. He continued to stare, but he didn't look quite as angry. He stayed silent and just looked at her. Angela waited a moment, contemplating whether to try again.
"My entire family is with the police, you know," she said. "My dad and my brother are detectives, my biological father is the chief detective, and Station Commander Motley, even though he’s not related, is pretty much part of the family. None of them will stop until they find me, and I won't be happy until they know I'm safe, because they’ll be so worried."
Alan's face dropped. "I could make you happy…"
"I won't be happy if you keep me from my family, Alan."
"Why won't you just give me a chance? Give us a chance? You've only been here a couple days, dammit, just give me a chance!"
"Alan, calm down—"
"You knew that bastard for less than a month before you slept with him! I've known you and loved you for close to fifteen years, dammit, I don't deserve to be treated this way! I don't deserve to be brushed aside all the time! I deserve a chance to make you happy!"
Angela could feel her heart racing, and she wasn't sure what scared her most. He was right about her sleeping with Steve, but she wasn’t about to ask how he knew about it. She assumed he must have been stalking her for a long time. Fifteen years' worth? That wasn't possible, she would have been eight years old. Maybe they went to the same elementary school? She didn't know, but she was terrified. He was obviously on the verge of losing it, and she didn’t have any idea how to keep him calm.
"You never said anything," Angela said, trying a new tactic. "I would have given you a chance, you never said anything. Just… let me go and we can start over."
Alan didn't say a word, he didn't move, he just continued to stare at Angela as if he was analyzing every word she said. He was deep in thought, considering the proposition. He wanted a chance to prove to Angela that he loved her, and this could be the way. They could start a new life together and be happy, just like Alan knew they would be. But he worried that if he let her go, she'd go back to that bastard. He didn't want her to slip out of his grasp, not again. He wanted to keep her.
"Do you promise?" Alan asked softly.
Angela was momentarily stunned; she wasn't sure he would believer her. "Yes," she breathed out quickly.
"And we can go on a date? Just like you did with him?"
"Yes. Just let me go."
Alan nodded and leaned down to undo her leg binds. "Where do you want to go? The park, it's a nice day out. Or we could go to breakfast. It's only 9:30 after all, and I'm off today, we could go to a diner."
That was when she realized he wanted to take her directly on a date. He wasn't going to let her go immediately, not back to her family, merely out of the house. She supposed she could try to work with that. Once she was out in public she could cause a scene, or she could try to run. Hell, all she had to do was start screaming in public that she’d been kidnapped, someone would surely help her get away from this madman.
"I want to go home," Angela said. Alan froze and slowly looked up at her. Angela's heart dropped as she realized she had pushed her luck too far. "I want to take a shower, get some clean clothes…"
"You can take a shower here," he said aggressively. "I’ve got clothes here for you, new ones I bought special just for you. We could go into the garden and enjoy the sun, we don't even need to go out."
"But, that's… that's not a, uh, proper date," Angela stumbled over her words. She could have just blown her only chance out of this house.
"What could we do at your house that we couldn't do here?" Alan demanded. Realization crossed his face at once. "He's back, isn't he? That disgusting bastard you’ve been screwing is in your house and you're trying to go back to him!"
"No, Alan…"
"You're trying to trick me again!" He abandoned her bindings and stood up, his fury coming back worse than before. "You promised! You said you'd give me a chance, but you're just lying to me! Why won't you just let me try? You could be happy here with me!"
"Please…"
"I love you, Angela! Why can't you see that? Why can't you see that you love me too? Why can't you give me a chance? Why can't you stop being so deceitful? Why can't you stop being such a bitch ?" He stopped and stared at her for a moment before his eyes turned sad. "You are not the girl I fell in love with."
Angela's eyes widened in horror. She knew what that meant. It had happened much sooner than she anticipated, much sooner than any of them could have anticipated. He was going to kill her.
"Alan, wait, listen to me…"
"No,” he said. “I don't want to hear any more of your lies! " He turned away from her and walked back to the corner where he kept his pills and his syringes. She hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a table there.
“Alan, please,” Angela said. “I really do want a chance with you, I do. I never knew there could be a man who could really love me, and you never said anything, so how could I have known? I don’t really care about Steve, I just didn’t like being lonely, that was all. It can be like you want, just you and me.”
He ignored her, and she could feel the panic coming on. She thought fast, desperately trying to find something, anything that would make him stop what he was doing and turn back to her. She was trying to think of another angle to try when he picked up a fresh syringe.
He ripped the package open and took it out, removed the safety cap and drew up the liquid in the cup into its barrel, then held it up and thumped it a couple of times to get the excess air out.
“Alan, please,” she begged. “You were right, we could go out to the back yard. I bet it’s nice out there this time of the morning, isn’t it? And maybe we could sit down on the bench and you could hold me for a while. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Alan?”
He turned and stood there, looking at her as he held the syringe. For a moment, she thought she’d gotten through to him, that he might agree to wait with the drugs and take her out to the bench for a while. She would do all she could to convince him she was happy in his arms, she would smile when he kissed her and welcome his touch, as long as he would let her live just a little longer.
Lewis would come. Jason would come, and she was sure that Floyd and Steve would be right there with them, but it wouldn’t matter if she was already dead.
“No,” Alan said. “You’re just trying to buy time, so he can come for you. You’re still lying, Angela, and that means you won’t ever stop lying to me.” He took a single step toward her, and she began to cry. “I’ve got to get you to stop lying. It may take a long time, but you will.”
He held the syringe out toward her, then, and she drew in a deep breath, but there was nothing she could do. The darkness descended again, just like before.
Chapter 21
The next morning was hectic as Chance and Gabriella rose early to drive Enrico to the airport. Chance thanked him for coming, and for helping Gabriella through such a trying time, then let his wife have a few minutes with her old friend. When she finally waved goodbye, they went back to Chance’s car and headed for the substation and another day of trying to find Angela Lambert.