Page 102 of His Old Lady

Chapter 36

Faye

After having the tapewrapped around her wrists, binding them in front of her, Faye held her clasped hands against her chest. If she lowered them, her fingers went to sleep.

She would need her hands to escape if Cal ever left the room.

Music blared over the speakers. Echoing in the empty room.

A chill ran up her spine as Strawberry Fields Forever by the Beatles played in the background.

"Remember this song?" Cal turned from the stereo and smiled at her.

Unable to speak and not wanting to agitate him further, she continued to stand and keep eye contact with him. Little by little, she'd inched backward, closer to the cashier's counter. She couldn’t move too much, or he'd notice.

The tears in her throat choked her the closer he came to her. He held his arms out to his sides and dropped his gaze to her hands.

Frowning, he shook his head and smiled at her. "Nevermind that. I'll hold you. Remember how we used to dance around the house, sharing a bottle of wine?"

He wrapped his arms around her, moving her in a circle. She whined, hating his touch. Hating the blue dress he'd clumsily put on her and hadn't fastened in the back, leaving her exposed.

Her skin crawled. Her body shook.

He'd dressed her like a doll.

Like his ex-wife.

It was clear that he was out of his mind. In some sick, perverted way, he'd talked himself into believing she was Celia.

He'd dressed her in Celia's clothes. He'd tried to put her hair up on top of her head in Celia's style. He'd reminisced about dates, his wedding, every good memory he retained of his marriage, even talked about the dog he and Celia bought together—and his ex kept after the divorce.

Cal's hands roamed over her back. Without the dress covering her completely, his clammy palms stuck to her skin. There was nothing she could do.

Her wrists were bound. Her mouth was taped shut. Afraid he'd go off the deep end and end up killing her if she fought him, she let him move her.

All she wanted to do was go home. She squeezed her eyes shut, dispelling the tears. Go back to Curley.

The music ended. Cal leaned back, looking at her. "We should celebrate like on our honeymoon."

She gagged. He moved her over to a chair and set her down. The excitement in his voice struck fear throughout her body.

"I never planned for us to drink, but why not?" He laughed. "Stay right there, baby. I'll be right back with a bottle of wine and two glasses?"

Hope filled her. If he went into the kitchen, she'd be alone. Trying hard not to glance at the door, she stared at him. Please. Please. Please leave.

"I bet you're hungry." He held his head. "What was that dish, uh, platter, we had the night in the hotel room after the wedding? Cheese and crackers and oh, the little meat slices and grapes Would you like that?"

She nodded eagerly. He'd need to go prepare the food, get the drinks, giving her more time.

He must've approved of her answer because he straightened his shoulders and smiled at her. "We'll have a feast. I'll need all the energy I can get for later when we go upstairs."

Cal whistled as he left the main room. Waiting several seconds to see if he was going to come back, she strained to hear any noise. Unable to wait any longer, she stood from the chair and hurried to the front door in her bare feet. She pushed the glass door.

It was locked.

Running her clasped hands down to the floor, she tried to move the lever that acted like a deadbolt. Groaning in frustration, she couldn't budge the piece. She needed the key. Looking around at the nearest tables, she tried to find Cal's keychain. Where had he put it when they came in?

A clank came from the other end of the building. Worried that she was running out of time, she hustled behind the counter, dropped to her knees, and searched the shelves. Finding the metal box, she struggled to set it on the floor with her hands taped together. Almost crying when the box fell at her feet with a loud thunk. She strained to push the button while lifting the lid, worried that he'd locked the small safe.

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