Kidnapped
Jacquelyn Vargovich
Table of Contents
Title Page
PROLOUGE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
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Further Reading: Possession
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PROLOUGE
Janet’s attention diverted outside, her mind defiant as circumstances beyond her choice. Janet blows out a breath, relatively desire wrapped up in a cozy quilt. Recumbent in a king-size bed linger from the domain. Janet’s heart is failing as if invisible hands grip from within. Janet’s chest is heavy; her spirit suffers deep in agony. Outside she is flawless, not a hair out of place. The inner battle rages inside, refusing to extinguish.
Spring is upon this weary world yet again, pain and agony associated with the one season she once loved. Spring’s a period for rebirth, new life brought to this unfair existence, the tree outside has buds upon the branches. As of now, her least favorite season. A year has passed since she woke up in the hospital, recovering from knife wounds. Disgusted by sheer view of everlasting markings. Raw chasms of puckered flesh, paler than the rest of her skin. A permanent reminder of her failings to triumph over the malicious wrath.
She modestly agreed to see a shrink to satisfy Sean. Sean O'Malley has been her life line to keep her from drowning. Her life would be meaningless without his embrace; a sheer comfort for her damaged soul. Since waking from a long coma the have been inseparable. A bird builds a nest in the crook of a tremendous maple tree. The bird appears obsessive by his task. Easy for the world to keep turning while she is stuck in one place, her personal hell.
"Janet?" Dr. Masson peers over her bifocals condemnation in her voice.
“Janet,” the doctor tries again determination in her voice, “You haven’t been talkative today. What is your purpose in coming to the office today?”
Janet stews as she keeps watching the tree, a bird sits on a branch. She pretended she didn’t hear the question. Not a care in the world, moving sticks, grass and a piece of fabric that looks like a pink ribbon to build a home. How simple. I wish life was just this simple.
The bird rambled through his daily motions is exhausting, getting out of bed is a chore which leads to why Janet is sitting on the worn couch spilling her deepest darkest secrets. Janet was basically forced to this predicament by her loving boyfriend. Of Course, she didn’t fuss much he had been feeling neglected. She takes no joy in nothing in her life to date. Janet focuses her thoughts. The thoughts slam her brain until she overwhelmed. A headache begins, shooting through her forehead as if a car slams through a brick wall. Where to begin? Janet looks at her hands; hands she barely perceives as her own.
"I don't know where to start," Janet whispers in a voice barely recognizable.
"We need to establish the foundation pertaining your issue," the doctor clarifies.
Lowering her head in defeat, monotone voice. “My issue is apparent and where to start is now clear." Her breath hitching as she searches for the correct verse. “It started when I met Gary Anderson in Philadelphia, a birthday party three years ago...” The precise creation of this ambulatory nightmarish reality.
CHAPTER ONE
A woman is not meant to receive flowers daily. In Janet Reynolds realm, it’s the custom, the blissful effect nonexistent. Sean O' Malley, the love of her life sends flowers, this is how he expresses he loves Janet. Display choices are limited nowadays due to the sheer number of red roses covering the entire room. The smell infiltrates as if her living room’s a funeral parlor, or rose garden, it’s too much. Her demeanor suggests a funeral parlor since she is not living.
Sean is the dearest most sexist man I have ever laid my eyes upon. His ginger hair and ocean blue eyes had me hooked like a fisherman looking for an enormous white whale. A year has passed, nothing considerable been changed. Night is the worst haunting dreams of the night he stabbed her over and over. There are times she prays slumber would come without dreams, a good night rest her body demands. Janet had refused to get help for so long, but Sean convinced her try to talk out the feelings.
How can I talk out feelings I do not understand? True, death had been closely upon Janet, she knows -Gary Anderson her ex-fiance tried to snuff out her life-force. Four months in coma, denied of living, four months she will never have the change to get back. Janet had thanked her lucky stars daily; Sean had not given up. He’s the only person who cares she breathes; his kids are grown. Her family been dead and buried. Dawn, been her rock on her mostly dark days, days Janet had endured since her failed murder.
He has been found guilty of being ‘The Redheaded Killer’ and sentenced to death. This ought to be marvelous news, but how can she move on? The pain is so immense how can anyone be happy that someone they still care for is going to die.
The trial of Gary Anderson passed, without her being involved. Janet neglected the experience confronting the piece of shit. As she gathers newspaper stories pertaining the trial. Janet stares at a picture of Gary, from the paper. His once gleaming dark hair limp and stringy. His face voids of emotion, only a sadistic smile that is barely noticeable. His eyes, devoid of all emotion as if something stole his soul. His eyes look as if the government has already hooked him up to kill him. Janet notices from the picture, wondering if there is anything left of the man she loved so deeply. Emotionless eyes will forever haunt her nightmares.
As Janet flips through the scrapbook, reliving the trial secondhand. A quote from the newspaper catches her attention, ‘The board is unveiled, pictures of women he killed so brutally lining the board, he shows no emotion Gary Anderson fails to react. This was truly an unsettling factor in this case.’
The paper also stated the only time he reacted, Pennsylvania’s district attorney held a picture of Janet to the jury. Gary Anderson lunged over the table, trying to destroy the picture, to stop the DA from showing his nemesis. The bailiff subdued him before he accomplished his mission. The judge had called a recess and removed the jury.
This information she gathered from articles from numerous newspapers. The reason Sean refuses her a confrontation while he sits on death row. No closure, no moving ahead. Janet’s breathing quickens, her nostrils flare, body tense to being denied her hidden obsession.
Countless instances she had brought to Sean’s attention, visiting the prison. Visiting her almost murderer. To her dissatisfaction this quest would never be granted. A sound snaps her out of her trance. Sean’s voice barely penetrated her concentration.
“Janet?” bellows Sean from another room.
“Coming,” scurrying to put my journal away.
Janet adjusts her clothes after she rises, her jeans are too big, her blouse hands of her shoulder, and leaves the room. Her clothes no longer fit properly. She is now a size ten. Once a plump sixteen, she now shops in regular sized clothes, no longer meandering through the plus size rack. Fear preys on her soul as if a lion is pounces her for his next meal. Janet spend her days lying on the sofa staring out the window, no longer enjoying watching movies, or TV shows. The things she once enjoyed now lifeless and boring. Daily she endures Sean’s lectures on why she doesn’t go anywhere. Depression set in to her deep down gripping her insides, she can’t let her feelings return to normal. Be the normal woman she once was.
Janet walks to the kitchen, plates of eggs, bacon, toast, and oatmeal cover the perimeter of the table. She gasps at the sight of enormous feast.
A hand flying up towards her chest, “Sean, what is all thi
s?”
“I made you breakfast, love,” Sean moves towards Janet and slightly touches her cheek.
Janet’s heart quickens to the touch, her body responds, and her palms become moist. The slightest caress produces this response every time; they are newly found lovers. Sean moves closer to Janet, his lips parted he lightly brushes her lips with his own. Janet’s heart pounds so hard she can hear it in her ears, barely able to contain her composure she backs away from Sean. Her eyes diverting his, she denies him, since her accident sex wasn’t as important to her. Sean grunts, “Please, it’s been so long. I want to feel you again.”
“I’m sorry Sean. I am trying.” Her voice breaking as the tears gather in her eyes, blurring her vision.
Turning away he barks without emotion, “Maybe you need to go see someone Janet.”
He strides out of the kitchen, Janet cemented in place her eyes wide, mouth agape. Not the first time she endured his words about a professional, undoubtedly not the last time either. Not trusting her legs to hold her she plops in the kitchen chair. The stress eater she is, the first pangs of hunger sends waves through her stomach, a sensation she hasn’t felt in a long time. She is hungry. Filling her plate with everything that is presented on the table she begins stuffing her mouth.
While she is gorging on breakfast Sean strides through the kitchen door his silence is deafening. He walks toward the sink. Sean’s jeans hugging his legs in the right places, tight black t-shirt defines his stomach muscles. His ginger hair, the back long, a mullet from the glorious 80’s, freshly washed and styled. Sheer perfection. Janet’s heart quickens as if an adolescent unexpectedly invaded her body. Far from adolescent, suffered tremendous devastation already, she’s still young. Thirty is not old. She slept through her 30th birthday as if sleeping beauty waiting for her prince charming. Her prince charming had been there when she woke. He looked beaten as if he got into a boxing match with Oleander Holyfield. His features gaunt, stubble upon his chin. In that one moment, she realized Sean was the one who would stay with her through anything. Since they both went through the identical horrendous situation.
In her reverie, Sean, growls as if a grizzly bear suddenly entered the room. He clomps out the room muttering something incoherent. Shortly after, a loud boom permeates through the house. Sean Lowering her head, it’s as if time stood still. Hollowness creeps in her chest, tears well in her eyes.
He didn’t even say goodbye. Pushing her food from her, she wipes her cheek as the first of many tears start to fall.
A few hours later, Janet rises from the table, she lost track of time. This had happened often. Shuffling back to her bedroom, she stands by the door, the room is covered in flowery wallpaper. A king-sized bed takes up most of the space, a long mirrored dresser is to her left just inside the door. Janet enters and gazes through her closet. Pondering the thought to dress and accomplish something today. She decides against it, closes the door, she stands motionless in the bedroom. This has no shock value; she replays the motion daily. The outcome is the same, always.
Defeated she returns to the enormous bed and cuddles with Sean’s pillow. Janet follows this identical schedule day in and day out. She awakes before Sean returns from work, barely. He is oblivious to her daily routine. As she dozes off, horrific images infiltrate her brain. The sinister fiend ambles closer towards her, creeping closer. The nightmare takes over, and she is falling to the location she doesn’t need to visit.
CHAPTER TWO
Sean O’Malley skids to a stop in the parking lot. Hastily he exits the car and slams the car door. Sean pauses long enough to compose himself, which is not working. He shrugs and continues to the garage. He strives to be professional, besides O’Malley’s Tire and Lube is his baby. Without the business, he would sink as if a boat slams an iceberg. His Mother didn’t raise a failure. Sean marches through the open garage door.
John and Dean look, they speak in unison, “Morning boss.”
“I’ll be in the office,” Sean grumbles.
He enters the office, Sean slams the door behind him, the wall vibrates due to the sheer force he closes the door. The sound project outward the entire length of the garage. Sean sits in his desk chair, pictures of his kids and Janet line the desk, as reminders of his life. Dean and John shudder, the sound is like a sonic boom.
“We all in trouble now, Dean,” John expresses.
Dean gazes out from under the hood of the Toyota, “Yeah, the misses probably denied him sex again.”
“You’re probably right Dean,” snorting his answer.
Dean nods in agreement before both erupt in laughter. John and Dean the only original mechanics who stayed after all the drama. The others quit soon after Janet ended up in coma. Sean neglected the business during the four months she was asleep. Sean’s fists clench because he knows the laughter is at his expense. Sean hasn’t the energy to walk out and stop them, he leaves them to their boss smashing.
A few minutes later, a slight rap on the office door, “Mr. O’Malley mails here.” Nancy Jasper speaks in her high-pitched sexy voice.
“Come in, Nancy.” Sean utters. I don’t have time for her shit.
Nancy Jasper, enters the office, her long blonde hair in a messy bun, his ice-blue eyes looking straight through Sean’s soul. She rescued Sean and the business from sheer death and disappointment. Of course, she is highly attracted to him, and she made her intentions perfectly clear one evening when Janet was still in coma. Nancy, the only secret he kept from Janet during their time together.
Sean arrived at the garage to catch up on his paperwork, he believed he would be the only person there, to catch up in peace. Nancy Jasper, a divorced woman he hired as his personal assistant, had been in her office. She overheard Sean stumbles around the garage, tipsy from the bottle of whiskey he drank on his way towards the garage. Nancy, dressed in a tight short skirt, her blouse unbuttoned halfway, Sean could see the swell of her breasts. Instantly his eyes diverted there, and she caught him staring.
A seductive smile on her lips, she sashayed to his side of the desk. Nancy straddled his legs, her blouse opening wider, perfect breasts so close to his mouth. Sean gathered all the strength he could not to take one in his mouth. He made no attempts to move her; her hands gently caressed the back on his head, her other hand between them, gently massaging. He made no moves to stop her. He needed the distraction, this was a time he had no clue if Janet was going to live or die. A moment before he took her lips to his.
Grabbing her hands, “Nancy stop, I have a girlfriend.”
“How come you don’t bring her here?” She said in a whisper lightly licking his ear.
Sean groans, “She’s sick, I can’t do this.”
She purrs in her ear, “I promise I won’t tell.”
With this he caved in to being vulnerable, he let her suck his ear in her mouth. His pants becoming tight. He no longer has the strength to deny her, he roughly grabs the back of her neck crushing her lips to his. One-night of passion, now a whole life of regret.
“Sean, are you alright?” Nancy says with true concern in her voice.
Being jerked out of his memory on that one fateful night. “I’m fine. Where’s the mail?”
“Oh I made it up, I needed to see you. It hurts me you're so unhappy. Let me brighten up your day.” The seductive smile upon her lips.
Sean getting annoyed, “Nancy, I told you that was a mistake. You caught me at a point in my life I wasn’t sure if Janet was going to live or die. You need to back off.”
“Yeah sure,” Nancy utters not convinced. “Well, you ever change your mind. You know where to find me.” Nancy grabs her breast and stays for a moment, Sean watching he can’t remove his eyes from her actions.
She strides out of the room, her perfume invades Sean’s nostrils. He adjusts himself, his erection pushing against his pants zipper. His head tumbles to his hands, not sure how long he will be able to deny Nancy. Her advances hot, sweat has broken out on his brow. His brain is saying somet
hing his body is not listening. Defeated he tries to continue his work, with no avail. After a few minutes, he pulls out a bottle of whiskey from his desk, pours himself a drink and downs it in a flash.
CHAPTER THREE
Nancy walks through the garage; she takes the long way back to her office. She wants the rest to see her leaving his office. She has a plan, and she always gets what she wants. No matter the cost.
A voice from beside her questions, “Wow you got him off quick. Must be good. No wonder you didn’t want me.”
Nancy ignores Dean’s comment. She’s used his degrading comments, she refused him after he cornered her in the restroom. I shouldn’t have let him get away with groping me.
Nancy only has one thought. Sean O’Malley become a permanent fixture in her bed.
Hours later, Sean, who drank the rest of the bottle of whiskey in his desk. He glances at the clock, not even noon. He rises from his chair, affected by the whiskey, falls backwards almost tipping the chair. He knows he should stay, his need to make sure Janet’s alright nags his mind.
He nods to his workers on the way out the door, Sean hopes they cannot see the stager in his gait. He has one thing on his mind, convincing Janet to put things behind her and let him love her again.
He enters the house, it’s as still as ever. He’s never returned this early from his work. He is shocked to find nothing. Holding on the sofa for support, Sean makes his way to the bedroom. He stands by the door; Janet looks like an angel under the white comforter. Her red hair sprawled out on the pillow.
In an instant, he walks over to the bed, caressing her cheek lightly with his hand. A small moan escapes his mouth. He enters the bed, sliding his long legs next to her, the fabric of her sweat pants rubbing against his jeans. Slowly he puts his arm around her middle and pulls her closer to him. Fresh scent of her perfume enters his nostrils. Moving her hair to the side exposing her neck, he nuzzles his lips in the crook of her neck. Janet moans, she pushes her body closer to Sean. He knows she is still asleep, for Janet was awake she would tell him the same thing. Sean, I am not ready. Eight months he has been hearing the same words uttered time and again they are branded in his mind.
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