Page 34 of Trapped: Until The Darkest Of Night

“Further. Further away from where I picked you up.”

I take the soap from her and set it on top of the cupboard. Then, I grab her arm and pull her with me. This time she doesn’t resist and reminds me more of Lou in the photos. That’s good. Everything should be easy with her. Dealing with her should also be easy.

I stop in front of the bed.

She doesn’t move, but I can feel a tremor running through her body and she stiffens up so I don’t notice.

“Are you going to lock me in the box again?” A terrible terror lies in her whisper, as deep and as dark as the place I know. She looks up at me, wide-eyed, her whole face twisted in fear as if anticipating a punch or worse.

Suddenly, I know exactly how she feels as if her fear were a mirror of my soul.

For a fraction of a second, everything is there again. The tightness around me, the feeling of not being able to breathe, the sweaty shirt that made me cold, the pants that were wet for other reasons, the stench, and the disgust.

I don’t flash, maybe because I’m looking at Lou and her fear is stronger than the power of my memory. Her eyes are still fearful and pleading, and I see myself looking at the man, fearful and pleading.

Mechanically, I shake my head. “The road will be empty enough that I can keep you out here. I only needed the box in the beginning.” I release her upper arm and only now realize how tightly I was gripping it. Stiffly, I go to the window, push two slats of the blinds apart and peer out. “Unless, of course, you try to run away from me,” I add quietly. It sounds like the menacing hiss of a whip, but the warning has to be there, even if I don’t intend to act on it. I don’t want Lou to be unnecessarily scared, but she must never, ever try to run away. She must not even dare think about it. She must know how dangerous it is to challenge me. Not the Brendan I normally am, but the part of me that acts during a flash.

After a while, I turn back to her. She’s still standing in the same place as if not daring to move without my direction. Foam runs down her body and forms a puddle around her feet. When I see her, my tension instantly dissipates.

“We continue now,” I say as kindly as I can. “You’ll stay back here and lie down again.”

She crawls awkwardly onto the bed without taking her eyes off me.

“And now?” she asks softly.

I go to the kitchenette in the front and retrieve two pairs of handcuffs and an iron chain from a secured closet. As I walk back with it, her eyes widen and I wonder how much longer this can go on.

“Nothing is going to happen.” I nod to the brackets on the walls. “These are just so you don’t do anything stupid while I’m driving.” I clip the handcuffs to each end of the iron chain and snap one to the bracket on the wall. “Your wrist.”

She presses her lips together.

I wait. I don’t want to use force again. We look at each other. There’s something in her eyes that startles me. I know it all too well: anger. Hurt pride, the will to hide it, and resignation because she knows how it will end.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Lou’s lips remain pressed together as she offers me her arm. But you are, her eyes accuse me, and she’s right, of course.

Where would I be today if I had become who I could have been? Lou would certainly not be here and where would I be?

I squeeze the cuff so it’s snug enough but doesn’t cut into her flesh. It snaps into place with a click. “Stay away from the blinds.”

She nods imperceptibly.

“I’m serious, Louisa, do you understand?”

“What’s not to understand about that?” she whispers. “You give an order, I have to obey.”

“It’s not quite like that,” I concede.

She looks at her tied hand.

Yes, it is!

I know she thinks that. I do too. Anything else would be a lie.

Chapter

Ten

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