by R. R. Banks
He glances at Maya, then back to me. Maya’s slowly nibbling on the quinoa, shrinking away to the corner of the cot.
“I guess that’s true. I do know some things. You’ve been working on a collection for Katya, yes? And getting a lot of rest. You two have been working together on some clothes and hanging out.” He gestures to Maya and eyes her as she eats. “And that guy whose guest house you were living in. What’s the deal with you two?”
I know that tone — the one where he’s trying to sound casual even though he’s angry as hell. It’s the tone he used when I would answer his calls too late for his liking, or when he’d find ice cream in my freezer even when he was giving me hardcore signals that he thought I was getting too chubby for his liking.
“We knew each other in high school. He generously let me stay in his guest house when my original housing fell through.” I feel a wave of nausea pass over me again. It’s been a little bit since I’ve actually thrown up from morning sickness. Why is today the day that it returns with a vengeance? “I don’t feel good, Max.”
Max slides off the cot and stands, suddenly tense. “In what way?”
“Like I’m going to throw up.” I eye the mop bucket on the other side of the room. I could make it over there if I had use of my legs.
“Ugh.” He can’t handle vomit at all, or even anyone sick. “Can you not?”
“Not puke?” I ask. “I mean, I can try but I’m not sure if that’s possible.”
“Hold on.” He leaves the room, shutting the door before I can see what’s on the other side.
“What the fuck?” Maya whispers, stabbing some salmon with her fork. “Here, do you want me to feed you some?”
“No, I’m okay,” I reply, taking deep breaths through my nose and blowing them out through my mouth.
“Who is he? Is he your boyfriend?” She whispers. “Ugh, this quinoa shit is gross.”
“My ex-boyfriend.” I glare at the door, then at the window. I tug on my ties, but that only sends me toppling over onto my side. Maya pushes me back up. “It’s a long story, but he’s part of the reason I came up here. He was being abusive and controlling, so I tried to dump him. He didn’t take it well.”
“That’s an understatement.” She reaches for the knots in my bindings, but everything’s pulled so tightly that she would need a knife to free me. “We need to get out of here.”
The door opens again, and Max comes back with some seltzer and antacids. I’m actually grateful, and I think he can see it on my face.
“Open up, love.” He holds the antacids up to my mouth. I open. Should I bite him? What good would that do? I can’t exactly get up and run for it. I accept the medicine and sip on the seltzer through the straw. “That’s a good girl.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I sip and sip, hoping to draw it out long enough for him to not talk to me. I yawn, a fake one that turns real.
“I’m so tired, Max,” I say. “Can we talk later?”
He eyes me. “Fine, I guess. But we will talk. Understood?”
His blue eyes flash with unexpressed anger. I nod, not wanting to tempt fate.
He gathers up the food and ties Maya’s free hand back up to her other one. He lays us down and pulls a blanket from the corner over us.
“I’ll be in the next room if you need me, okay?” He grabs my chin roughly and kisses me on the lips. I don’t kiss him back, but I don’t recoil either.
He leaves, the door closing and locking behind him. Once we hear him walk to the far side of the room, we turn to each other. Maya’s terrified, rightfully, but I’ve moved from terror to survival mode. We have to get out. It seems like Max is alone, but that doesn’t mean he’s not armed. He clearly has some drugs in his arsenal. But he had to be one of two people, since Maya was grabbed at the same time. So even if we do manage to attack him and get out, we might run right into the arms of someone who has no interest in keeping me or Maya alive.
And we’re somewhere deep in the forest. There’s a strong chance we could get out and then die from being lost and dehydrated in the woods. I’m extra vulnerable, too.
I see a light at the end of the tunnel — a very, very long tunnel. If we get out of here alive, there’s more than enough evidence to put Max behind bars. Then I can go about my life with Jay and our baby. But then there’s the opposite end of the tunnel, completely black. He could kill us if I do or say the wrong thing.
“What should we do?” Maya whispers.
“Let me take the lead. Just trust me, okay?” I insist.
“Of course I trust you.”
“Good.” I swallow, actually feeling a little sleepy. He won’t kill us in our sleep, at least before I talk, right? I hope not. I’m basically always tired now anyway. “We’ll make it out of here.”
Maya nods. “Are you really sleepy?”
I pause. “That’s another thing. Obviously, we have to keep the whole pregnancy thing a secret.”
Her eyes go down and she nods. I can tell she wants to ask a million questions, but she holds back. “Are you feeling okay? Do you need anything?”
“Thank you. And no, I think we’ll be okay. I just need something to eat since I can’t stomach the fish.” I want to touch my bump, but I can’t. “And that’s why we need to get out of here, soon.”
She bites her bottom lip. “Okay. I’ll try my best to help.”
I almost start crying. I’m so thankful that I’m not here alone. I don’t know what I’d do if he’d only taken me. But why did he take both of us? If he’s been keeping tabs on me, he must have known I’m usually alone when I’m working. But then again, there’s a security system on Andrew and Holly’s property. He’d get caught. On the relatively deserted trail, not so much.
“Let’s get some rest, okay?” I try to get comfortable. “We’ll figure things out in the morning.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting my body’s fatigue push me into sleep.
It doesn’t seem to last long, though, because I wake up at the first light of the morning, desperately needing to pee.
“Max?” I call out. “Max?”
He comes bursting into the room, wearing running shorts and a T-shirt. He’s clearly just woken up, because he doesn’t bother to close the door behind him. I peek past him, but don’t see much. I see a bed and a bunch of duffel bags, but nothing that can tell me where we are.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I just have to pee.” I try to look sheepish. “Can you take me to the bathroom?”
He nods. “It’s just an outhouse. I’ll come back and get you, Maya. Stay where you are.”
It’s not like she can go anywhere, but that’s beside the point. He picks me up easily and carries me outside through a door in the room that he came from. It looks like the back of the cabin. Just as I suspected, it’s just forest around us. I can’t tell if we’re in the mountains or even near Gray’s Point at all. I can’t see what he drove up here in either.
He pulls a knife from his pocket and separates my wrists from my ankles. He tugs my pants down, and holding my wrists together, he sits me on the commode inside the hot, smelly outhouse. It looks like it’s connected to a water supply, so it’s slightly better than a port-a-potty. He’s polite enough to turn around while I relieve myself. He goes to tug my shorts up from the front, but I flinch away. He’d brush my tummy, and there’s no way he wouldn’t notice anything.
“I got it,” I mumble.
“There’s a shower out here, too.” He secures my wrists again. “If you want to clean up.”
“I’m fine.”
“Suit yourself.” He picks me up again comfortably since he didn’t reconnect my wrists with my ankles. When I get back, he puts me down and picks up Maya. Rage flares in my chest. If he touches her weird, I’ll fucking end him. I don’t think he’s that terrible of a person, but I’ve stopped giving him the benefit of the doubt.
They return a little bit later, and Maya seems unharmed. He puts her do
wn on the cot next to me.
“Okay, ready for breakfast and a chat?” he asks. I nod, even though I know that there’s no way I can say no.
He smiles, and leaves to go grab food. I hear what sounds like a cooler open and close, and he returns with two containers and spoons. They’re overnight oats, one of the only breakfasts that Max made for me. Well, one of the only ones I actually liked. The top’s decorated with blueberries and chia seeds.
“Thank you,” Maya says quietly. I echo her thanks and dig in. It’s just right — not so sweet that I puke, but not so bland that I don’t enjoy it.
Max lets us eat in silence, his eyes watching my every move. I feel self-conscious as hell, the unwelcome feeling of being judged coming over me again. He was always so harsh about my weight, even though I’ve never been overweight by any measure. I’ve never been above a size six in my entire life, but to him (and his past model exes), that was the upper limit of acceptability.
It was always like that. He would always start out with, “Oh Simone, you’d be perfect if...” And then he would insert whatever bugged him about me that day. I would be perfect if I changed just a little bit of every part of myself, more or less. The perfect woman, if I were just a little bit more extroverted. The perfect woman, if I were just a tiny bit more excited to see him every day. The perfect woman, if I supported his career twice as hard whenever he didn’t book a job, because I was the one with the steady income, not him. I tried so hard to please him because I thought I was lucky to bag a guy like him.
I never want to put up with that bullshit again. I’m not a perfect human being, but that’s not the point. I need someone to accept me for who I am, and Max will never be that guy.
Eating while I’m a little puffy and bloated is making me feel like he’ll yank the food out of my hands any second. But he doesn’t. When I’m done, he takes my container and waits until Maya’s done. He takes hers and goes to put the containers away.
“Now, let’s talk.” He looks to Maya, then back into the room where he’s been staying. “Maya, I hope you don’t mind that we discuss our relationship in front of you. I don’t think I can let you out of sight.”
He says it so nicely that Maya nods like everything’s fine. Max turns back to me.
“I need you back, Simone,” Max continues, taking my hands which he’s left free. His hands are smooth and soft, the calluses he gets from lifting weights buffed away by his manicurist. “I miss you. That’s why I took these drastic measures — I know in my heart that you’re the woman for me.”
I don’t say anything. I just look down at his hands, feeling my body start to heat up and sweat. It looks like midday outside, maybe, and the room is hot. I realize that there’s no way that he could ever feel guilty for his actions. Every last one of them is justified, no matter how absolutely bonkers it is. I can’t logic my way out of this situation.
“We can make it work.” He moves my hair off my back and places it onto my shoulder. “I know I’m hard on you sometimes, but that’s just because I see the woman you can be.”
I swallow hard, resisting the urge to snap back at him. He shouldn’t want to change me. He should just take me as I am. Or should have, because I’m never going to let him get away from this.
“Oh,” I murmur, dragging my eyes up his chest to meet his gaze. “I’m not sure, Max.”
His eyes narrow. “Why aren’t you sure? I love you. I’d do anything for you. I’ll be a father if you still want kids. I’ll even quit modeling.”
He’s flat out lying to me. He would never quit modeling — he’s too good at it, and since he’s aging like fine wine, he’ll still get gigs as the years go on. And he’d only be a father as far as the sperm donation part went. If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe him — hook, line, and sinker. He’s so smooth.
“But we’ve had some rough patches,” I say, looking down at our joined hands again. My hands are starting to sweat, but if I pull away, I know he’ll get pissed off.
“All couples do,” he laughs lightly, like we’re just sitting on his couch and not locked away in some cabin where he’s holding me hostage. God, he’s such a fucking psychopath.
I can’t say yes to getting back together with him — partially because I can’t make myself lie that hard, and partially because he might do something drastic if he takes me back to the city. What if he realizes that he can’t keep me locked inside all the time? I don’t know if I can get out and to safety in time if I’m there. But going back to the city would mean that I could probably flag someone down for help.
I bite on my bottom lip. But where does that leave Maya? He’s had eyes all around town, apparently, enough people for him to know where Maya works. Who’s to say he wouldn’t have her killed if she made the wrong move to save me once we leave?
“C-c-can I think about this a little longer?” I ask. It’s a stalling tactic, but it gives him a little of what he wants — it’s not a flat-out no, and that’s better than nothing. “This is a lot to take in.”
He takes a pause so long that it terrifies me. But he nods, and I let out a breath of relief.
“Fine. I’ll give you a day. But seriously, think long and hard.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out a stack of photos held together by a rubber band. “Here are a few reminders of us to jog your memory. We had a lot of good times, Simone. I know I’ve been a little off lately, but I’m still right for you. Look how good we look together.”
He puts the stack in my lap, then digs back into his pockets. He pulls out more rope and binds my wrists again. It’s tight, but I can use my hands to go through the pictures.
“One day to think, though.” He stands up, his beautiful eyes going steely, almost like ice. “And then I need an answer.”
He leaves us alone, only coming in to give us water and food. Six small meals a day to keep our metabolisms boosted, because that’s clearly what we’re worried about while being held captive. Sometimes he closes the door, which gives Maya and I more time to plot.
“Our phones,” she whispers once. “What if we can get to our phones and call? My parents have that app where they can find my phone if it’s lost. Maybe they’ll use it.”
“That’s great to hear. Do you think it still has battery?” I ask. I want to move around because I feel ill again, but every move makes the rope burn my skin more and more.
“Shoot, I doubt it.” She glances toward the door. “But they might find where it last was, so at least that’ll help.”
“Okay, that’s something.” I lean my head against the wall. But it’s a small something. I know that people are probably looking for us, but they can’t follow a trail if it doesn’t exist. The last time Max took me to the bathroom, I saw a truck outside of one of the windows. It’s nondescript and could be anyone’s.
Time passes more quickly than I’d like it to, monotonous hour after monotonous hour. What could he be doing in there? Maya and I pass the time by looking at the photos Max gave me, since there isn’t anything else to do. It looks like he went through his Instagram and printed off the photos. There are a bunch of us getting drinks, a few of me waking up in bed, a couple from the trips we went on together. And I was genuinely happy in a lot of them. He was fascinating and seemed to like me. He always had something fun to do. I did love him once. The memories are a weird mix of comforting and disheartening, but I stop myself from being hard on my past self. I had every reason to like him, and it’s not my fault that he turned controlling and crazy. All I can do is move past it.
The door opens in the evening, almost twenty-four hours since Max told me I had to decide. My heart leaps up into my throat, and Maya curls up into a little ball against the wall.
“Well, what did you decide, Simone?” He glances at me, then at the photos. He’s happy to see them all spread out. “Did the memories help?”
I nod and try to get rid of my dry mouth before I speak. “I’ll go with you.”
Maya stays composed. She knows this is the plan,
even though it’s a risk.
“Really?” Max’s face lights up, almost in surprise. “Simone, you’ve made me so happy. We can put all of this behind us and get back to where we were.”
“Yeah.” I smile.
“Great.” He stands up and reaches into his pocket. I expect him to pull out the pocketknife that he’s used to cut rope before, but instead, he pulls out a small velvet box. I nearly puke right then and there, right down my front like a baby. He kneels. “So let’s make it official.”
He opens the box, and I gasp. The ring’s gorgeous and exactly to my taste. It has an emerald cut diamond in the middle, with smaller diamonds along the white gold band. I look at Maya, then back at the ring. This is the worst possible way to be proposed to — a perfect ring in the worst situation possible.
“H-how did you know?” I stammer, because I genuinely want to know how he picked such a perfect ring for me. It pisses me off. Being proposed to shouldn’t be like this.
He shrugs and gives me a big smile. “Just a guess. Let me put it on you.”
He plucks it from the box and slides it on my finger, the contrast between the jewelry and the rope around my wrists jarring. He must realize it, too, because he unearths the knife and cuts my hands free. He cups my wrists and rubs the sore spots, which hurts more than it helps. The ring fits, too.
“Congrats?” Maya tries, looking between the two of us, her eyes wide in horror.
Max cups my face and kisses me. I have to kiss back, even though all I want to do is weep. I’ve made a huge mistake. What if he doesn’t take me back to the city? What if he takes me back to some other cabin and forces me to live there with him as his wife forever? He couldn’t get away with that, could he?
“Come on, let’s get you showered up. I’ve got some clothes for you.” He scoops me up. He smells like cologne, the scent of his body underneath it. He always showered meticulously, so I never got the chance to notice how he smelled. I don’t really like it.
He shuts Maya in the room again and carries me outside to the ‘shower’ of sorts that I saw when he took me to the outhouse. A whole new panic sets in. We used to take showers together at the beginning of our relationship. Fun, sexy ones. We’d take each other’s clothes off and fuck all day, propelled by new relationship feelings. Now I’m only feeling dread. He can’t see me naked. He’ll notice my bump. He might not want to be a dad, but he’s not an idiot. There’s no way that he won’t know it’s not his based on how far along I am.