"If you listen and do what I say, I'll keep your arms in front of you. If you don't, a lot worse will happen to you, Celia. I can't have you making noise. I shut down the lounge for us, baby. This will make everything better. I'll show you."
He finished taping her hands together and straightened. Gazing at her, he sighed heavily.
His mannerisms confused her. Even looking into his eyes, she failed to recognize her old boss. Had he slowly lost touch with reality? The man in front of her switched from calmness to rage without any warning.
Sweating through his clothes, his lips moved, but no words came out. Lightheaded with her mouth taped shut, her chest heaved. Trying to calm down, she tried to think of what to do.
There was no one here to help her. Since he closed the lounge on the busiest day of the week, none of the employees would show up and see what he was doing to her.
He walked over to the cash register. Contorting her body, she got her feet under her and pushed off the floor without using her hands.
Before she could get two feet toward the door, he turned to her. Holding a pair of scissors, he slid the blades up her arm and cut her shirt. She gasped, shrinking away, and he roughly pulled her back toward him.
"Hold still, or you'll get cut. I don't want to hurt you." He snipped the cloth at her neck, and her shirt fell off, exposing her left breast. "There we go, baby. I'll have you in your favorite dress in a minute and put a smile back on your face. You always loved dressing up for me. Blue is my favorite color, but you always knew that, didn't you?"
He kissed her forehead before taking the scissors to her other side. She blinked. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Scared for her life, she could only wait for a chance to get away from him. He was mad. Totally off his rocker, thinking she was his ex-wife.
She'd need to stop him and escape before he tried anything else.
With her hands tied and unable to talk, she looked around the lounge for anything to use against him. She wouldn't allow him to hurt her.
Focusing on the counter by the front door, she jogged her memory about what he kept by the cash register. Remembering the metal box on the shelf, she glanced at Cal. He kept a pistol behind the register in case there was ever a robbery or trouble at the lounge when it was open. Could the weapon still be inside the box?