Page 63 of Saved from Obsession

Frank blinks, then sinks onto the chair next to the bed. He looks confused, possibly at my sudden change in behavior, so I know I need to keep it up but not be too over the top, either.

“I know you want me to be perfect for you…” I let some of my fear seep into my voice, making it wobble. “But it’s going to be so hard if I’m terrified all the time.”

“You need to learn.” Frank’s tone is sharp. “Once you’re trained, I won’t have to yell or punish you anymore. But in the beginning, you’re going to make mistakes. And they need to be corrected.”

What he’s saying is both terrifying and disgusting, but at least he’s not screaming at me. And the fog is clearing from my brain, making it easier to run through possible escape plans while I try to pacify him. “How are you going to train me?” I ask softly. “It might help me be more prepared.”

Frank leans back in the chair, stroking his chin. After a few seconds he says, “Well. Allowing you small freedoms to see if you deserve them. Punishing you if you don’t.”

Oh, God. This guy is truly insane. Was he this crazy in high school? He must have been. “What kind of freedoms?” I manage to choke out without screaming.

“Oh, like going in the backyard, for example.” He sounds incredibly calm as he discusses training me like a dog. “If you go out there and don’t try to run, I might let you out again. But if you do, I’ll have to punish you. And you won’t likethat.”

Summoning all my experience as a model at masking my emotions, I nod at Frank like it makes complete sense. “Okay.” Hesitating, I wriggle on the bed for a few moments before biting my lip and gazing at Frank again. “Would you…”

“What, Georgia?”

“Would you allow me to go to the bathroom? Please? It’s been so long, and I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

Frank stares at me contemplatively before answering. “It’s attached, Georgia. And the window is bolted shut. You can’t get out that way.”

“It’s okay,” I hurry to reply. “I just need to go. Please?”

“Fine.” Frank huffs out a sigh and goes to the foot of the bed, loosening the restraints around my ankles. When they’re both off, I stifle a small gust of relief and just give him a little smile instead.

“Thank you,” I breathe out, and start to get off the bed.

“Wait.” Frank yanks me up and holds me in front of him, his hands gripping my forearms. His eyes search my face, greedily taking it in, before he slams his mouth onto mine. His tongue prods between my lips, a slithering snake hunting its prey. Every instinct is screaming at me to shove him away, but I make myself hold still until he releases me.

I’m desperate to wipe my mouth, rinse with mouthwash, scrub my tongue—but I don’t make a move. “I was going to wait,” he says, somewhat sheepishly, “but I’ve been waiting to kiss you since I was seventeen. I couldn’t help myself.”

My stomach is rebelling, but I force it to settle. “Okay,” I whisper, then back away to the bathroom, never taking my eyes off him. But once I get inside, I turn both faucets on high and crouch by the toilet until all I’m throwing up is liquid.

Then I rinse my mouth, find a small bottle of mouthwash and swish some around, all the while searching for something I can use to get help. Because my trip to the bathroom has multiple purposes—not just to use the bathroom, but to get my legs released from the bedandto figure out a way to signal that I need help.

Frank’s obsession with me ends up paying off for once, as I locate some of my makeup from my house in Ballston Spa. Which is creepy and terrifying but I can’t deal with that right now. Instead, I find my darkest lipstick and move to the window to inspect it.

It’s small, and bolted shut, like Frank said, with horizontal blinds closed for privacy. I want to leave a message with the lipstick so someone outside could see it, but I can’t have Frank finding out what I’ve done. But how?

Then an idea comes to me. Pulling the blinds away from the window, I use the lipstick to write a message on the part that will only be seen from outside, and only when the blinds are closed. I need to be quick or Frank will suspect something, so I scribble my note quickly and hope someone sees it.

Been abducted

Call 911

Georgia

By this point, my heart is slamming into my chest and I know I need to finish up my business. So, I hurriedly stash the lipstick, check the blinds to make sure they don’t look like they’ve been disturbed, and flush the toilet one more time for good measure.

When I walk back out, Frank is staring at me, but he doesn’t say anything. He gestures to the bed and I head halfway there before stopping. “Could you leave them off?” I ask, arranging my features to look sad and pained, which isn’t a stretch at all. “My ankles are really sore. I’m worried they might scar if they keep getting irritated.”

Frank frowns at me, his jaw going tight. “Please,“ I beg, before he can say anything. “I’m not going anywhere. How could I? You would stop me if I tried. I’ll just sit on the bed.Please?”

After a long pause, he nods his head. “Fine. But if you try anything, you’re going back inallthe restraints. Not just the ankle ones.”

I bob my head at him and sit back down on the bed, mentally high-fiving myself. I may not have escaped yet, but I’m not tied up anymore, and I left a message that hopefully someone will see. A tiny warmth flickers to life in my chest.

Leo would be proud of me.

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