Page 38 of Possession

Chapter 22

Madeline

My shouldersand arms screamed in agony from being tied too tightly behind my back, and I was pretty sure my wrists were bleeding. I’d been bound during rope play and bondage scenes, but the Dom always played safe. This psychopath was definitely not playing safe. My fingers had gone numb long ago, and I was starting to get a cramp in my left shoulder from my awkward side-lying position.

Once we’d made it to the van, my captor had thrown me in the back, leapt in after me, and slammed the door behind us. He’d tied my hands, jerking on the zip ties. My neck continued to sting where he’d cut me. Not one single pain was worse than the other. My entire body hurt. But I was alive. I had to keep reminding myself of that fact. As long as I stayed alive, there was a chance that Nathaniel and Joseph would find me. I held onto that thought, like someone holding on to that last grain of sand in an hourglass.

I’d tried to sit up when we’d first begun moving, but a barked command to remain where I was kept me frozen. I switched to asking questions, but gave up when the only thing I got in return was silence. Every bump sent shards of pain through me. I had no idea how long we’d been driving, but the raging silence was making me go out of my mind. The silence was a total mind fuck, and if that was his intent then he was doing a fantastic job.

Under a darkening sky, the van slowed. The only thing I could see through the windshield was the red, gold, oranges, and yellows of the trees above us. We could have been traveling one hour or three and we could have been anywhere. I had no idea. I’d lost all track of time and direction while I attempted to puzzle out who the hell this man was. My abductor continued driving slowly, my body shifting slightly as the van made several turns. Eventually, it came to a complete stop. The front door opened and closed. My head swiveled around trying to figure out what door was going to open next. Nothing.

The sky grew darker and I remained alone. I was terrified of even moving. My primary goal was to remain alive until my men arrived. I’d do whatever I had to in order to make that happen. I was a psychologist. My goal was to get my patients talking. That’s what I needed to do. Although, if the drive to wherever we were was any indication, getting him to talk may prove more of a challenge than I thought. Suddenly, the back door of the van opened.

“Let’s go.”

The man stepped to the side, leaning against the door, and motioned with his hand for me to move. Apparently that was the only help I was going to get. I shimmied and squirmed and pulled myself forward until I reached the end of the vehicle. Unfolding my legs, I leaned forward until they reached the ground and stood. I hissed in pain when he snatched me by my arm.

“Please, untie me, or at least loosen my bindings. I can’t feel my fingers, and I’m pretty sure I’m bleeding.” My voice didn’t quiver or waver. No matter how terrified I was, I had to force myself to remain calm.

His grip tightened in warning. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Madeline.”

Temporarily giving up the battle, I followed his lead, holding back my groan of pain when he jerked my arm again. I didn’t want to give this piece of shit the satisfaction of knowing he was hurting me.

Now that I was outside, I was able to take in my surroundings, searching for any clues to our whereabouts. I needed to see what my options were. All around us were trees in full fall foliage. Trees so close to each other their branches and leaves intertwined like lovers. Nestled between small copses of trees was a small log cabin with a rickety front porch made up of warped slats of wood. The front windows were grimy and mud-covered. The steps were long worn out and replaced by cinder blocks.

The interior of the cabin was in sharp contrast to the run down exterior. Standing inside, it was like I’d been transported into a photoshoot straight out of Log Cabin Living magazine. It was completely modernized and new with bright lights shining out of the luminous chandelier hanging from the middle of the vaulted ceiling. There was an entire wall made of stone with a built-in fireplace, and the other wall nearest it was made of nothing but large windows. Between the lights being on and the darkness outside, I couldn’t tell what the view outside the windows was. It contained an open floor concept where the kitchen, with its stainless steel appliances, bled into the living room.

“Turn around,” he gruffly commanded.

I hesitated too long because he whipped out the knife and spun me around. I cried out, but slammed my mouth shut, cutting off further noise. Then I waited for the excruciating pain of the blade. Instead, he merely cut the zip ties off me. I hissed when he nicked my skin and my fingers screamed in agony as the blood finally began to flow again, the pins and needles sensation causing tears to form. Hoping there was still a reprieve from death, I turned to face my abductor, trying to rub my hands together to bring back feeling, but that only made it hurt worse, so I hung my arms at my sides and hoped it returned quickly.

“Thank you for untying me.” I tried to remain courteous and not piss him off any further. His fuse was already short enough. And I still didn’t know who the fuck he was.

He gestured to the cream colored couch with the knife. “Have a seat.”

I followed his instruction without hesitation, the words stay alive playing on repeat in my head. No matter what he did to me, I only needed to stay alive. It was time to put my skills to use.

“You said I didn’t even remember who you were. All I can say is I’m sorry for that. I’ve met so many people that sometimes I forget I’ve met someone. Sadly, I’ve always been better at names than faces. It’s wholly unintentional, but I know it’s a flaw I have.” I kept my voice soft and coaxing like I was speaking to one of my nervous patients.

He stared at me like he was trying to gauge my sincerity. Whatever he saw must have appeased him, because he gave a small smile and shook his head like I was a silly child. He positioned himself in the adjacent chair, ankle crossed over one knee, and leaned back with both arms splayed over the armrests in a completely relaxed position, if you ignored the knife still clasped in his hand. Unlike me, who sat ramrod straight, tense, and ready to bolt if given the opportunity.

“You always did know how to make things better. Like that time when Billy Pritchard threw a rock at me during recess.” His eyes took on a glassy and unfocused glaze that spoke of getting lost in the memory.

I kept my mouth shut and let him continue.

“I remember you walking right over to Billy and kicking him in the shin. You didn’t say anything to me, but when we got in line to go back inside, you smiled at me. It was like we shared a secret.”

My mind raced with the information. I vaguely recalled a boy in my class named Billy when I was in sixth grade, but God, that was a lifetime ago. Almost thirty years. I certainly had no recollection of kicking him in the shin for any offense or another. The man across from me refocused his gaze and glanced over at me. There was such a look of longing and hope in his eyes, like he idolized me even after all these years. I didn’t know what to say, so I improvised. “Billy always was a jerk.”

My captor’s eyes danced with delight at my insult and he chuckled. “That’s why I killed him.”

“Excuse me?” The horrified question slipped out before I could stop it.

The man shrugged. “I hated that smug shithead. He always thought he was better than everyone. I tracked him down a few years ago, and when the time was right, I took my knife to him. Pissed himself, the pussy. He always acted like he was some tough guy, but man, when I slid my blade into him? He sure wasn’t so cocky then. Cried like a fucking baby.” He brought the knife up to his lips and tapped it on lips that lifted into a smile while he appeared to lose himself again in the recollection.

Jesus, this guy was a fucking psychopath. He murdered without conscience. I wondered how many people were dead because of him.

“Was he the first person you killed?” I asked, morbidly curious.

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