Page 56 of My Dear Mr. Corporate

CHAPTER 25

Bryan

Crash! No! I jerked awake my heart galloping in my chest as I fought between reality and memory. It was the dream about the crash again and reliving the feeling of being jolted and flipped about in the car seat. I hadn’t been wearing my seatbelt which had sent me crashing into the windshield. A blinding pain had pierced my skull before I fell unconscious.

I groaned and opened my eyes, praying I was somewhere else but no, I was still stuck in an unfamiliar basement. I had lost sense of time and wasn’t sure how long I had been taken for, but it had to be no less than three days. I had lost consciousness at regular intervals and a part of my memory was hazy. I could remember being dragged but nothing of how I got here.

I wasn’t exactly sure where I was. I glanced around the semi-darkness of the room, trying to make out something familiar, but it was hopeless. Boxes were pushed against the walls and out of reach. I was tied up to a post in the center of the room, my wrists rubbed raw and probably bleeding from my many unsuccessful attempts to free myself.

I was going to die. The fear of dying in an unknown place without Tate finding me drove me to attempt to gnaw through the ropes with my broken nails. I had chipped them on the ropes all the way down to the skin and they stung but I couldn’t give up. I imagined how frantic Tate was as he tried to find me. Frustrated tears gathered in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop them even if I had wanted to. I simply lacked the energy to try.

Since I had been abducted I hadn’t eaten. I hadn’t spoken to a living soul. Sometimes I swore I could hear someone walking about above but with the gag in my mouth, all I could manage were half-hearted muffles. My stomach growled and churned like it was eating itself from the inside out. My throat was parched, and my tongue swollen from the heat in the basement. I could hardly swallow and when I did it hurt. I tried to remember how long someone could survive without water, but my brain wasn’t functioning.

After a while I gave up on the ropes. I was too tired to try again. I turned to comforting myself with thoughts of Tate. If I hadn’t possessed those happy memories with him I would have lost hope already, but I had to believe that somehow, he would find me. Or maybe the man who had grabbed me would return after having an attack of the conscience. From the way he had left me in the basement, without any thought to water or food, he had no conscience at all.

I must have dozed off because I woke up to the sound of a car driving away. Night had fallen, and the basement was completely black now. A little moonlight seeped in through the cracks of the ceiling but nothing that would allow me to see much. I had to wait for my eyes to adjust to the dark. These were the most terrifying moments, being in the dark, and sometimes hearing things scurrying without knowing what. I swore I would never watch another horror movie when I got out of this basement. In fact, I wasn’t sure I could ever enter another basement after this horrifying debacle.

I was frustrated because I still had no idea why I was even snatched. The only people I saw capable of pulling a stunt like this were Keith and Gio. Hadn’t I seen them at the restaurant? This must have been what the two had been planning. I wished I hadn’t decided to wait until I arrived home to tell Tate about that. I had wanted to tell him about the meeting but he had sounded so exhausted on the line that I decided it could have waited.

I became disoriented with time, grimacing at the sound of my stomach growling. Hopefully, it would at least work to scare away any creatures that might be in this basement with me. I was about to nod off again, for, at least in sleep I didn’t have to feel the hunger. The sound of a car driving up to the house perked me up. If there was a way I had to signal to whoever had just approached that I was down here. Another thought sobered me that whoever was up there could possibly be my abductor.

I grunted in frustration. What a stupid thing to do in kidnapping me only to leave me here to starve. What would that accomplish? Didn’t they realize that when I eventually died from the hunger and lack of water that my body would begin to smell? I shuddered at the gruesome thought and my heart felt empty.

Tate, where are you? I need you.

Praying wasn’t something I had indulged in since I was an adult. When I was younger, though I used to live with a religious couple who took me to church with them every Sunday. When they had caught me kissing their son they had dropped me back at the social worker’s office. I prayed now to whatever being would listen to keep me alive until someone found me. I didn’t want to leave Tate yet.

I started cataloguing all the things I would do after I was freed. Life was too short to continue working in an environment I didn’t like. I would swallow my pride and trust in Tate enough to give him the benefit of the doubt. With his guidance I would accept his offer to work with the Foundation and work my hardest to make him proud of me. Over time, we would get married. I was sure of it. Not only would we marry, but we would find a surrogate to bear our children, so we could continue the Rosenbaum legacy he was so proud of. I would have a home and a family with our three or four kids. We would teach them about the world and how to love. We would be there for the kids as they figured out how the world worked.

I didn’t realize I was crying again. I was trying to be strong, but the thoughts of the future filled me with despair of what I may never get to live. Without warning the trap door leading to the basement was pulled back and a glimmer of light shone on the steps. I must have been dragged down the steps which would explain my bruised body and headache.

Step by step two legs materialized and started making its way down the stairs. He held the beam of light down, so I couldn’t see his face. Once he was down to the final steps, he shone the light right at me. I closed my eyes, the light hurting my pupils at the sudden exposure. He flicked off the flashlight and was about to approach me when we both heard it. Cars, more than one this time drove into the yard. He paused as though in panic but then turned back toward the stairs. I argued as loud as I could behind the gag. He didn’t turn but continued up the stairs. Once he had cleared the trap door, he slammed it shut and a bolt slid in place.

My heart lurched as I waited and wondered what was happening up the stairs. He didn’t seem as though he had been expecting company. Would he even remember to return after they had been gone?

The doorbell rang and every now and then I heard footsteps and some muffled voices carrying down to me. I had no idea what to expect but I waited for something to happen. I waited for discovery. Whoever the visitors were, they trampled around the house for a while even coming so close as to step next to the trap door. I held my breath in anticipation at that close call that never came. After a while, the footsteps faded, and I heard cars driving away.

That was when I lost hope.

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