Page 5 of Soul

“It’s a vacant lot. We might not find anything. We are going to head there first thing in the morning.” I know he wants me to see that he is making every effort, and I do see that. Only now is not the time for pats on the back. It’s crunch time and only the relentless will find what they are looking for in time.

“Gillian may be dead by morning.”

Gillian

”Chase! Chase, it’s me!” I scream out. The wind carries my voice to the single man standing on a cliff out over the horizon. He’s in a sharp black tux, his dark hair blowing in the breeze as the waves crash against the cliff. “Chase!” I yell again, but he doesn’t hear me. The sand is thick and muddy as I run barefoot, trudging step by step. My wedding dress catches sand, rocks, and shells, slowing me down. I tug on the dress and pieces fall off the back, strips of satin instantly get swept up into the air and float on a cloud swirling around magically.

I pick up my pace, but he starts to walk away; his head hangs low, shoulders slumping.

“Chase!” I yell at the top of my lungs. My man stops, finally turns around and sees me. Heseesme. Even from this distance his smile is splendid. The damn dress pulls at my waist now, the train filled with muck and mud. I rip at the bodice trying to yank it off, pulling at the satin. The sound of fabric shredding, no, being cut, enters my subconscious. The beach shakes, and I grapple to hold my footing. Chase’s arms reach out; I’m closer but still not close enough. The dress yanks me back, and I fall to the sand only it’s not sand, it’s softer, bouncy. With all my might, I press up, only this time, it seems as if I am pressing against the wind and it’s pushing me back down. My hands clutch and push trying to get to my feet. Chase stands still in the distance. He doesn’t come for me. He’s close enough to see me struggling, and yet, he doesn’t come.

I push my arms out, trying once more to pull at the dress. Finally, it breaks free, and I slam into a hard body. My eyes flutter open, and I’m no longer on the beach. The dank smell of must and mold along with sweat and man enter my senses, demolishing the ocean air and beach where Chase was in my dream. The sound of my breath is loud against the slick neck of a man. Not a man. My captor.

“Thank God you’ve come to your senses,” Daniel says into my neck kissing the column.

Nausea stirs in my belly. “What?” I heave against him realizing that the top half of my dress has been alternately cut and ripped open. Danny’s holding up a pair of scissors; they reflect the light of the single bulb above my head. Like a frightened animal, I skitter back, the pulley system above my head shrieking as metal grates across metal. My back hits the cold concrete. Instinctively, I cross my arms over my chest. The chill of the room seeps deep into my bones. With the top half of my dress ripped open, my breasts are exposed.

Daniel’s eyes run all over my chest. I swallow reflexively, trying to push the vomit back down to where it came from. If he touches me, I may throw up on him.

“You’ve always been beautiful, princess, but seeing your body like this, bare for me, reminds me of so many good times. Do you remember how I loved on you?”

I shake my head. “Danny, no, you do not want to do this.” I can hear the panic in my voice betraying fear and rejection.

He smiles wide. “Of course I want to. But, you’re too dirty. I brought you these.” He sets a package of baby wipes, a white tank top and a pair of booty shorts down on the bed. They could almost classify as underwear. “I want you to remove that fucking disgusting dress, wipe off your entire body, eventhere,” he looks down to where my legs meet, “and get all clean for me. If you’re real nice, maybe I’ll take you up to my motor home and make love to you in a real bed instead of this mattress.”

I gulp and steady my breath trying not to sound affronted. “When, Danny?”

“You just can’t wait to get back between the sheets with me can you?” He smiles wild and smarmy. It’s a smile I don’t recall ever seeing on him before. This is not the man I was in a relationship with for almost a year. This guy is cold, scary, and calculating. The Danny I knew was sweet, kind, and treated me like a fragile, priceless artifact.

“Danny, why are you doing this?”

His eyes narrow and his mouth purses into a tight bow. “You know why.” His gaze is white-hot fire and ready to burn through flesh. My flesh. “Obviously, the rich fucker manipulated and blinded you. You had diamonds in your eyes and forgot what a real man is. What having someone love and take care of you, the way you should be looks like.” He takes a few steps, pulls me into his chest. The chains clang as I’m slammed into his large body. “You will remember. No matter how long it takes. You’ll remember how good we are. How perfect it can be when it’s just the two of us.”

He yanks my head, and his lips are on mine. When he tries to push his tongue into my mouth, I bite down hard. “Motherfucking cunt!” He roars then backhands me. I fall onto the mattress, the side of my face pounding anew. “Clean yourself, get that dress off and wipe every ounce of your old life off of you; that is the last you’re ever going to see of it again. Because if you don’t learn real quick, Gillian, I’m going to get angry and be forced to teach you a lesson. Got it?” One of his knees hits the mattress as his hand forcibly drags my chin up to look into his eyes. The kindness I knew when we dated is gone. Hatred stares back. Daniel’s fingertips dig painfully into the bruised skin of my jaw. “Well?” he roars.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Thank you, Danny. I’ll get cleaned up,” I croak out.

“That’s a good girl. And eat your fucking food!” he spits, then pushes me back onto the mattress.

He storms to the door, opens it and slams it closed. I hear the lock clicking into place. The sound of that lock might as well be my death knell. Pain ripples through every surface of my face and down my chest. I block it out as much as possible and catch sight of a thin flannel blanket near the clothes. I grab it, toss the tank over my naked chest, and wrap my body in the blanket’s warmth. It isn’t much. Curling into a ball, I let the fear and shock swallow me whole.

Tomorrow, Daniel will rape me. I know it just as I know that Chase is doing everything in his power to find me. Believing that he will make it in time is useless. Today is day four. Daniel doesn’t look scared or worried that we’ll be found at all. As a matter of fact, he is rife with confidence. He believes beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is going to get me to fall in line. To be some ethereal representation of a relationship only he knows about within his mind.

The situation is bleak. I am dealing with a madman who not only wants me to love him, but also wants me to be this perfect vision he’s made me out to be. Only I don’t know what that is. I think hard. What would Dr. Madison say? It is possible he’d say that I should find a way to connect with the Danny I knew and the Daniel this man has become. Try to get him to remember the fun we had when we were together. Perhaps remind him what he is doing to me now goes against what we had in our relationship over a year ago. Might work. What else? Slowing my breathing, I close my eyes and let my thoughts wander.

Trying to find out why he’s the way he is would probably get me killed. Playing his game, attempting to be the perfect woman he believes I am in his warped version of reality, would likely be the best possible means for survival. Of course that option will also cause the most lasting damaging effects. There is no way I can ever willingly let that man put any part of his body in me. Now that I know what he is, who he is, just the thought of his hands on me forces the nausea in my gut to roil.

My stomach shudders and quakes, a physical earthquake inside. It’s too much. I barely make it up to heave over the side of the mattress before I’m spewing onto the concrete. It’s mostly bile and water, and it burns like I’ve swallowed a handful of razor blades. Violent, hacking coughs wrack my frame. Gradually, I’m able to take small, slow breaths, bringing my heart rate back to something akin to normal. I can still taste the vile stomach acid on my tongue.

Closing my eyes, little flickers of the dream I had earlier come back to me. Chase is back on the side of a cliff wearing his tuxedo. But when I hold my arms out to him during that dream he doesn’t come for me.

Chase doesn’t come for me.

Just a speck of doubt causes the tears to fall down the sides of my battered cheeks; the salt burns the abrasions on my skin. He’ll come for me. There’s one thing I know for certain in this world, and it is that Chase loves me. Together we forge an unbreakable bond that no one can destroy. Besides, Chase reminds me over and over when we’re faced with something challenging, or I feel the need to run away, that no matter what, he’ll always run after me, that he’ll find me and bring me home. He’s promised me this countless times over the past year.

I let thoughts of Chase, and how our life could be when he finds me settle the fear and allow me a moment’s reprieve from the filthy hell I’m in. With dry, cracked lips, I whisper a prayer over and over again.

“Chase, please find me. Please find me, Chase.”

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