Acts of Desperation(42)
He just shook his head while I stared. It was confusing. I expected a deranged, hairy madman covered in tattoos, but he looked so…normal. And, I had no idea who he was, but yet there was something vaguely familiar about him. I made a mental note to memorize his features so that when I did escape, I could give his description to the police, and they could lock him away.
He was of moderate height and build. I wouldn’t say he was big, but I wouldn’t have considered him small by any means either. His short sandy brown hair was somewhat unkempt, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days. He was sweating profusely through his dingy white t-shirt, but still I would have classified him as normal looking—handsome almost, like a scraggly Matthew McConaughey. His faded jeans and flannel shirt both looked dirty, matching his hair, but it was his eyes, his dark distant eyes, that scared me the most.
“What do you want?” I asked then looked down and finally realized that I was covered in a thin sheet. I didn’t have a shirt on but thankfully I still had on my underwear.
“What I want is money, lots of it. And some satisfaction.” He looked at me and smiled then reached his hand out to touch my cheek.
“Oh my God! Please don’t!” I shook my head and tried to scoot as far away from him as I could, but my restraints only lent me about an inch. Two attempted rapes in two days was more than I could handle.
He began laughing. “No, no. Not that kind of satisfaction.” He laughed harder then launched into the chunky bark of a heavy smoker. “That would be disgusting. You look like…that’s one thing you don’t have to worry about,” he said, smoothing my hair. “My satisfaction will come from someone else seeing you like this, and the pain it’s going to cause him. He deserves to suffer like I’ve suffered.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Your boyfriend.”
“Jax?”
“Yes, Jax,” he snapped. “I’ve been watching both of you. It’s obvious why he likes you, and well…it shouldn’t be so easy for him. He can’t just replace her with you.”
I realized who he was. I saw him in my mind’s eye, the man who’d been watching Jax and me kiss after our first lunch, I remember looking up and seeing him…and our first dinner together…he was the one I bumped into on my way back from the bathroom. I thought he’d looked familiar that night, but I hadn’t given it a whole lot of thought. The pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together. He’d been following Jax—us—the whole time.
“You’re Grace’s brother,” I said.
He lunged at me. “Don’t. Say. Her. Name.” Then grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back.
I winced. “I’m sorry I’m sorry please just let me go.” His face tensed then he released my hair and turned his back to me. “It hasn’t been easy for him, it hasn’t. He told me everything that happened with her. He’s sorry. ”
“Ha! He will be sorry.” He turned back to me. “I’ve sent him a few pictures of you like this and judging from the responses I’ve been getting, I think he’s in agony.” He patted my head again. “I’m sorry. I bet that still stings, doesn’t it? You know I saw what that guy did to you. I was watching from the window. I wouldn’t have let him rape you either.” It seemed a slightly ironic statement, and it wasn’t lost on me. “I was pissed at first because I thought he was going to mess up my plan, but with just a little tweaking, things worked out better than I thought. And then he made it so damn easy for me to get in. By the way, cardboard?” he said through a laugh. “Only a woman would think of fixing a broken pane of glass with cardboard. Hell, I even thought of posting that asshole’s bond as a thank you, but then I couldn’t have any record of being in the city, now could I?”
“I guess not,” I said, slowly digesting every word. He’d been sending pictures of me to Jax, so at least Jax knew I was missing—Jax, my family, Liz—they’d all be looking for me. We were all living in the same nightmare, although on different sides. The sooner it ended the better, and I refused to let it end with me dying.
Without saying a word, he suddenly left the bedroom. I heard mixed sounds of him shuffling around outside. Drawers and cupboards opened and closed as a hard rain started to fall, hammering on the metal roof with heavy thuds. I scanned my surroundings. It was an old house with beaten up wood flooring. The one window in my hellish abyss was covered in an antique sheer flowered curtain with fraying ends through which I could see a forest. All I could see were trees—beautiful trees just bursting to life showcasing their vibrant green, virgin spring leaves. Then the heavens opened up, releasing their deluge, and drowned the foliage in its tears. I was sure they were crying for me. I tilted my head and wiped my eyes on the pillow. I took a sobering breath—crying would do me no good, so I continued on with my lesson. If—when—I was able to get free, I was going to need a weapon.
I looked at the old, floral print, nicotine stained wallpaper that was peeling up in random sections throughout the room. The wooden chair, where I imagined he sat and watched me sleep, was across the room in a corner next to an end table. The tabletop held a simple brass lamp and an overflowing ashtray.
Then the cheap-looking hollow core door creaked open, and he walked in with a small plate of food and a glass of water. I started to salivate at the sight of it, becoming acutely aware of my hunger. I wondered how long it had been since I’d eaten. How long had I been tied up here?