Page 15 of Reclaimed

“Could I just get myself a glass of water?”

“Yes. But if you’re longer than two minutes…”

“I won’t be.”

I filled my glass deliberately slowly. I savoured every moment that I wasn’t in Ray’s presence. Would I ever be able to relax around him?

When I came back in, Ray was still looking concerned.

“You look pale.”

“I’m always pale.”

“Do you feel alright? Not sick?”

“No, just tired.”

“You’ve slept so much since you got here.”

I bit back a retort about how being kidnapped was tiring work and simply shrugged my shoulders.

As soon as the credits began to roll, Ray switched off the TV and turned to me. My stomach flipped; he looked oddly determined.

“You need more distraction.” I wasn’t sure what he meant, so I kept quiet. “You need some routine. I was easy on you the first few days, but this isn’t a hotel.” I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows. This was his idea of taking it easy on me? “No more daytime naps – you don’t need them now. No more breakfast in bed. You set an alarm, you get up, you wash, you dress, and you come downstairs to help get things ready. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Any questions?”

“Can we go outside every day?”

He squeezed my hand.

“Definitely.”

7

I wouldn’t say I felt better from that point on, but I did feel more human. Following a proper morning routine at least gave me the temporary illusion of having a sense of agency.

The downside to spending more time awake was having to spend more time around Ray. I’d been starting to get major cabin fever from being cooped up in my room all the time, but the house wasn’t big enough to avoid Ray. I had small moments of respite when he disappeared into his office to work, but he evidently still didn’t trust me to be alone for long and always re-emerged after about an hour to come and find me.

After a while, I noticed my anxiety around him begin to fade. I still hated him, and when his temper started to flare, I was still afraid of him, but I managed not to provoke him too badly most of the time, and he managed to refrain from hurting me. He’d been right about the routine; it was helping us establish some level of… not peace, but perhaps at least civility. But all the time, I knew it couldn’t last.

When I wasn’t cooking or eating with Ray, or on our daily visit to the garden, most of my time was spent reading or watching TV. I was getting restless. I needed more – more interaction, more movement, more variety… more than Ray could possibly give me as his captive.

During one of Ray’s brief stints in his office, I was flicking through the channels, bored, when I saw something that made my heart do a double take.

My face stared out from the TV screen. The words ‘STILL MISSING’ glared out at me from a red banner under my picture. The photo was from the night of my engagement. They’d cropped it to just my face, but I could see the rest perfectly in my mind’s eye. The arm around my shoulder was David’s, and he was smiling with joy and relief. On the table, my fingers were clutching a glass of complimentary champagne that the waiters had been waiting to bring over after I’d said yes. A diamond ring was sparkling on my finger. It had been one of the happiest moments of my life.

“What…?” Ray had just walked in, and his expression immediately turned livid when he saw the screen. He strode across the room and grabbed the remote from my hands. He switched the TV off and threw the remote down on the sofa. “What do you think you’re doing watching that?”

“I was just going through the channels. I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t lie. You knew perfectly well what you were doing.”

“But there’s no rule—”

“Get upstairs. Now. Before I hurt you.”

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