Page 25 of Trapped: Until The Darkest Of Night

Lou is hanging upside down in my arms, her blonde hair a falling veil. Even though a moment ago, my mind was in overdrive, I am now absolutely calm. Maybe that’s how it feels when you’ve done something truly bad, I don’t know. Maybe it’s mere relief that this part is now behind me.

The broken glass from the camping lanterns crunches under my feet as I carry Lou to the bed. I carefully set her down and take her pulse. It’s weak but palpable and regular, so everything’s okay. The dosage was right.

For a moment, I stand there and stare at her: her soft oval face that now looks so peaceful again as if she’s asleep and her sweaty, reddened skin. She has a few tiny freckles on the left and right side below her eyes. Light cinnamon gold—strange, I never noticed them before. What else is there about her that I haven’t noticed yet? My gaze lingers on her finely curved lips. Am I imagining it or is her upper lip a bit fuller?

My fingers twitch, wanting to trace the smooth contour. Why not, she won’t feel it anyway! Just this once. I reach out my trembling hand, and when I feel the velvety skin against my fingertips, my heart begins to pound.

Lou feels so good. So good. So soft! The deep dark burning in my chest flares up with an intensity that knocks me out.

I stroke her lips with my index finger, down to her chin, down her neck…my gaze falls on her bare shoulder.

You shouldn’t be walking there alone. Really!

Shocked at myself, I quickly withdraw my fingers as if I’ve burned myself. What the hell am I doing? I didn’t kidnap her to touch her, but to have her with me.

Are you sure?

I ignore the mocking voice in my head and get the chloroform bottle that I barely managed to put on the table earlier. I quickly drizzle a few drops onto the cloth I’m still holding. Again, I look at her from above as she lies there, small and blonde. Somehow I’m glad she looks so peaceful right now after what she’s been through.

I have no regrets. There’s nothing I’m sorry about except that she was so scared.

I bend down and gently place the soaked cloth over her face to keep her unconscious for a while longer. Then, I sweep up the shards and put them in a plastic bag with the broken lanterns.

Throwing a quick glance at Lou, I pull the knockout drops out of my pocket and get the sleeping drops out of the closet. I drip both into the PET bottle in the correct ratio, which I prepared especially for this purpose. There’s only three sips of water left, it won’t take long for me to pour it down Lou’s throat. At the end, I add dimenhydrinate, the anti-nausea medicine, then I go to the bed and remove the cloth from her face.

I glance at the clock. Two minutes. It won’t be long before she’ll regain consciousness.

Before she wakes up, I pull a zip tie from my pocket, roll her onto her side, and bind her wrists behind her back. It has to be quick as I don’t want her knocking the mix out of my hand. Besides, thanks to the gamma-butyrolactone, she won’t remember a thing anyway.

I sit next to her on the bed and pull her up, a bit over my thighs so that her torso is elevated. Her small breasts accommodate me in this position. They shimmer milky white through the wet fabric except for the tiny pink halo in the middle. I can’t help it. I stare without really knowing what to think or feel. At some point, I tear my gaze away and let it wander further toward her flat stomach, her lap, her slender thighs and delicate ankles. Again, a scalding heat rises to my chest, filling every cell of my body with fire. My thoughts burn, melting my mind to nothingness.

Of course, I don’t just want to look at her! I want to touch her all over, smell her, taste her skin. My fingers are shaking.

I frown and clench my hand, feeling like pounding it against my temple. I’m not going to touch her like I did before. No matter what she does to me. No matter how good she smells of Nivea lemon and how soft her skin is. Whether she is going to remember it or not. I’m not the kind of guy who’d do that!

Her eyelids flutter and I’m almost relieved not to have to think about it anymore.

“Ethan?” Her voice is hoarse, either from screaming or the chloroform.

“He’s not here, Lou.” I don’t know why I’m saying this. So pitiless, so cold. Maybe to distance myself internally.

“Where…what…” She blinks dazedly, not realizing what’s happened to her.

“It’s all right, Lou. You don’t need to be afraid.” The wrong words—she stiffens. “Drink this and then you can go back to sleep.” I put the bottle to her lips, but she turns her head away. I expected that and cover her nose.

I think it’s only at this moment that she realizes her hands are tied. She tugs at her arms and her eyes widen with fear.

“Drink. I do not want to hurt you.”

She gasps for air as the water enters her mouth.

I clench her jaw, not hard, but firmly. “Swallow.”

She obeys and I let her breathe. “Once more.”

This time she doesn’t fight back. She understands quickly.

When she’s finished drinking, I slide her back onto the bed. She doesn’t move, but I know she can’t possibly be already asleep. She is dazed, unable to move, but conscious. In no more than half an hour she will be dozing off.

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