Page 53 of Trapped: Until The Darkest Of Night

“You’re coming outside with me,” I say so firmly that my words leave no doubt as to how serious I am. “What shoes do you want to wear? I have your sandals, Chucks, flip-flops…”

“Flip-flops.”

“You’ll be freezing in them.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, flip-flops it is.” I shake my head, not understanding, and get her the flip-flops with stars on them and set them on the floor in front of the bed. “Put them on.” I feel like a commander because I have to order her to do everything.

Lou slides off the bed with visible reluctance. She looks at the shoes, frowns, and gives me a strange look. Maybe she’s wondering where I bought the flip-flops. They were hard to come by and required hours of research. In the end, I had to bid on it with a fake account on eBay for $78.

But Lou says nothing. It’s strange that she doesn’t comment on the clothes.

She slips into her shoes on shaky legs, one hand resting on the bed.

“Okay—now put that sweater on.” I hand her a fluffy black sweater that I recently bought.

She reluctantly takes it from me and I take off the cuff so she can put it on. It’s too big, but that doesn’t matter, at least it keeps her nice and warm. I click the steel hoop back into place and study her closely. Her blonde hair looks even lighter compared to the dark sweater. It falls like sheets of soft, smooth silk and smells like my herbal shampoo. I like it when she smells like my stuff because it’s more like we belong together. I stare at her, fighting the urge to touch her, to grab her hair, and pull her toward me. My pulse is beating in my fingertips.

It would be so easy, Brendan…you could push her back onto the bed right here, grab her hair…nobody’s around to see…nobody…

I turn away from her abruptly and release the handcuff that is attached to the bracket at the end of the chain. I hate that voice in my head. Maybe it’s something from my time on Thorson Ave, maybe the monster left a brand on my mind. It’s like you can do anything with anyone you’re superior to as long as you don’t have to justify it to anyone. But I’m definitely never going to hurt Lou like that. Never! The voice can continue to entice and seduce me, it can talk until it is blue in the face, promising me everything. Fuck it all!

I stare at the necklace a little helplessly and consider if I should take Lou to the campfire like this. I could tie her to the chair, but the thought of her sitting outside tied up like a dog while I’m free to roam strikes me as more inhuman than anything else I do. But loosening them, no, that’s absolutely not possible! I can’t monitor her all the time. Perhaps, despite her condition, she would risk a second escape attempt.

Undecided, I simply click one cuff around my wrist. If she has to be bound, at least it can be to me.

“Now we’re tied together, you and I,” I say, slightly smiling. “I can imagine worse things.”

No reaction.

Slowly, so that she can keep up in her condition, I walk ahead and she follows me at the greatest possible distance. Ten feet, that’s how long the chain is. I sit down on a camp chair in front of the fire and point to the one next to it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Lou take the chair and move it away from me until the chain is almost fully stretched. I suppress a sigh. The ring rubs my sore skin, but I remain seated without reducing the distance. After a few minutes, she perches on the edge, looking like she’s about to storm off.

I peer into the blazing flames. Now and again, a log bursts in the heat and yellow-red sparks fly upwards. The wind whirls them through the night, and seconds later, they burn up as if they never existed.

“The night air will do you good,” I say, breaking the silence after a while. “You look like a ghost.”

Lou stretches her hands toward the flames, palms glowing brightly, but doesn’t answer.

“Shh, be quiet for a second!”

Idiot, she is silence personified!

I lean toward her a little. The splashing of the waterfall can be heard like a blurred background noise.

Lou looks strained, maybe she’s really listening.

“Water,” I explain. I’m sure she heard it too. “Water is good, we can use it to fill up the tanks and stay independent for longer.”

Her shoulders stiffen.

Sure, you don’t want to be independent, that’s obvious, Lou!

She holds her hands even closer to the fire, so close that she’s about to burn herself. I swear I’ll smack them away if she moves them any closer.

“You don’t want to talk to me?”

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