Page 49 of Reclaimed

“Not in the bed, and not in the cage, but… we could make you comfortable – you’d be back in your room, and you wouldn’t have to sleep alone.” I acted like I was considering it.

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not if it will help you sleep.”

“Thank you, sir.” I almost felt bad deceiving him when he was doing his best to be kind, but my end goal was too important, so I allowed Mark to guide me upstairs.

I retrieved my bedding from my room and laid it out on the floor at the foot of the bed, close to where Mark had draped his clothes over the back of a chair.

“Got everything you need?”

“I think so. If he contacts you, will you wake me?”

“I will.”

“Goodnight, sir.” There was a strained silence for a moment as if he was not used to being wished such a thing.

“Goodnight, Callie.”

It felt like it took forever for Mark to fall asleep, and I wondered if he felt uneasy having me there, but eventually, I heard his breathing change. I waited longer to be on the safe side and then crawled over to the chair and slowly, slowly slid the clothes off and onto the floor. I fumbled around in the half dark, trying desperately not to make any noise, until I slipped my hand into one of his jeans pockets and felt something cool and hard. A key. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. But finding the key was only the first part of the plan – I still had to leave the room and get into Ray’s office without waking Mark, find the answers I was looking for, and then sneak back into the room and replace the key so that Mark would never know what I’d done. He’d been uncharacteristically sympathetic that evening, but I didn’t imagine he’d show me any mercy if he caught me. Luckily, he’d only left the door pulled-to and not fully closed, so I was able to slip out of the room almost silently.

I felt safer once I’d made it down the stairs. Ray’s office was on the other side of the house from his… our room, far enough way for any sound to hopefully go unnoticed, so as long as Mark didn’t wake up and notice I was missing in the next hour or two, I should be okay. My heart was thundering as I turned the key in the lock, and for a moment, I debated ditching the whole plan and sneaking back upstairs, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I had some answers. I’m doing this for Ray.

At first glance, I couldn’t imagine any reason why Ray would insist on keeping this room locked. A large desk dominated the relatively small room, but otherwise, there was nothing remotely remarkable inside it. There was barely anything inside it at all. Aside from the desk, there was a chest of drawers and a couple of filing cabinets. It looked like any other home office. Was I letting my imagination get carried away? Maybe Ray really was just away for work. I had to know for sure. Sitting down on his chair I started to feel more and more uneasy. Despite everything he’d done to me, I felt uncomfortable invading his privacy like this – it just didn’t feel right.

He had a photo on his desk – us out for dinner together on Valentine’s Day when we’d first started seeing each other. My chest twisted. I felt strangely touched that he’d have a picture of us on his work desk – it felt oddly conventional. But any sense of normality was dispelled instantly when I opened the top drawer of the desk. It was full of newspaper pages – all of them with my face on. Where had he got them all? Now that I thought about it, we never received any post at the house. Had he collected them those times that he left me alone? Is that what he went to do? Who kept them for him? Mark? He had hundreds. The second drawer was full of them too. Some assumed that I was dead, some guessed at Ray’s involvement, others speculated about mental health issues and whether or not I had just run away. I didn’t know which theory was the most painful. Why was Ray keeping these? Were they trophies? I felt sick.

I was burning with curiosity and desperately wanted to read each and every one of them, but I knew I had limited time, and these weren’t going to help me find Ray.

The drawers on the other side shouldn’t have been a surprise. All my paperwork – my bills, my bank statements, my doctors’ letters, even my birth certificate and my passport were in there. This must have all been taken from David’s flat at the same time I was. Part of me felt intensely unnerved at seeing all this, but I reminded myself that, really, there was nothing here I couldn’t have already guessed at. The fact that so much time had passed without me being found proved how adeptly Ray had planned this whole situation, and I knew he couldn’t be maintaining that security without continued effort. Maybe the newspapers weren’t about gloating; maybe they were purely informative. It made sense that he would want to keep tabs on whatever theories were being discussed to make sure no one could take me away from him. In his own twisted way, he was trying to keep me safe.

Why am I excusing this? When did I get to a point where this felt like safety? I wanted the police to find me – didn’t I? I picked up the papers in the final drawer, and something slipped out from between them and clattered loudly as it fell back into the drawer. At first, I felt only terror. Would Mark have heard that? I prayed I was far enough from the bedroom for him to have not heard. But then I saw what it was, and my heart leapt – it was my phone. I should have put everything back at that point and tried to sneak back upstairs, but I couldn’t bear to part with this potent reminder of my old life. I switched it on, stuffing it in the folds of my nightdress to muffle any sounds. It was working. My PIN was the same. I didn’t know what to look at first. I went to my messages and immediately opened the ones from David. They broke my heart. They ranged from desperate pleas to contact him, to angry tirades aimed at Ray. At least David didn’t have any doubts about what had happened to me – he knew I hadn’t left voluntarily. I scrolled back to the messages from before I’d been taken. My last text to him had been asking him to pick up more sticky tape on the way home. I wished it had been something more profound. If I’d been able to forgive Ray for the papers, I could not forgive him for this. I hated that he had access to my private messages, my private pictures. Hadn’t he taken enough from me? There was one way I could claim back a little of myself. I went to settings and changed my passcode, feeling enlivened by my small rebellion. I could put the phone back and leave the room as I found it, and Ray might not find out for days or weeks what I had done.

The creaking of floorboards stole my attention, and I spun round, instinctively hiding the phone behind my back. Ray. And Mark right beside him. Sheer relief flooded through me – he was back, he was safe. But that quickly changed to panic when I saw the look on his face. He was livid, and even Mark’s expression somehow seemed even more grave than usual. I needed an explanation, and fast.

“Master, I—”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing, I…” I was frozen in place as he strode across the room. He pulled my hands out from behind my back and snatched the phone from me. He tried the code, twice to be sure, and then turned back to me.

“Who did you contact?” Something other than fear twisted in my stomach at his words. He’d assumed, perfectly reasonably, that my first impulse on finding my phone would be to contact someone for help. Of course, that would have been the sane thing to do.

“No one, I promise.”

“Don’t lie to me. This is serious. I need to know what you did.” He was looking at me with absolute disgust, but I could see that, underneath it, there was… disappointment. I desperately wanted to reassure him that I hadn’t betrayed him, but at the same time, I couldn’t bring myself to say it. When I met his gaze, I was so petrified by the rage that I found there that I could only summon enough clarity of thought to beg him. I thought I’d seen him angry before, but this… He looked as though he could have killed me on the spot. He tossed the phone over to Mark.

“Get in. Check what she did.” Mark nodded.

“I’m not lying, Master, I swear.”

“I’ll get the truth out of you, Callie, one way or another. I’ll give you one more chance to do this the easy way.”

“Please. I’m not lying to you.” Despite knowing how this must look to Ray and knowing that I hadn’t really done anything to earn his trust over the last few weeks, I was still hurt that he didn’t believe me, or that he couldn’t tell that I was being honest with him. He knew me better than anyone, and even he believed the worst of me in that moment. I let my head fall in resignation. There was no point trying to get him to believe me. I was already guilty as far as he was concerned.

Mark’s voice cut through the sound of my sobs. “We don’t have time for this, Ray.”

There was a pause, and I could feel both men regarding me critically, trying to discern the truth, perhaps, or work out what to do with me. These men who had both shown me care, who’d both treated me like I was some kind of prize, now hated me. Why was I surprised? Ray had done this to me before. This was the exact same shock I’d endured the first time he’d turned on me, and yet somehow, I was still shocked by it. He could pendulum from love to hate in a single breath, and I still hadn’t learnt that lesson – I was still trying to discern the ‘real’ Ray amongst all the contradictions, but this was him. The lover, the abuser, the carer, the Master – they were all part of the real Ray.

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