Always Summer (41 page)

He kisses
me frequently... little quick kisses that he steals when I am falling asleep,
or waking up, or walking past him.
 
His
favourite is to kiss me on the back of the neck... I just don’t care anymore...
I need to work out how I’m going to get out of here with my babies... in one
piece!

He is
always touching me... holding my hand... brushing his fingers through my
hair... massaging my feet.

He tells me
he loves me so many times in any given day, that I don’t doubt it one bit.
 
Till now, I’ve talked rarely.

Today I
need to ask him a question... and I’m terrified about the answer.

“How long
did you plan this?” I ask.

“No plan...
it was totally opportunistic!” he says, eating his pizza.

I give him
an incredulous look.

“No...
seriously
!” he says, nodding.

“If it was
opportunistic, how come you have the cuffs in the bedroom?” I ask.

He laughs
at that.

“The chain
is from Redmond’s leash.
 
I had to send
him home because he couldn’t stay living with me in such close confines... and
the cuffs are from Veronica.” He explains.

Redmond was
his dog!
 
So... right now I’m thinking he
must’ve put the cuff and chain shit together when I was sitting in the bath the
first night... I don’t know why, but it makes me feel better that he didn’t
have the setup ready when I got here.
 
It
might mean he didn’t intend to have me here in the first place.
 
Perhaps he’ll let me go... eventually?

Then
there’s the girl he mentioned...

“Who’s
Veronica?” I ask.

“A girl I
was fucking over the Spring break... she was a bit kinky.” He answers, winking
and smiling at me.

“She didn’t
work out?” I ask, thinking that if she was still on the scene, she may find me
here when she returned.

“I don’t do
girlfriends
Summer
.” He replies flatly.
 
He makes it perfectly clear that I broke his
heart with the look he throws at me in that moment.

Jordan’s a
good looking guy... heck, if he hadn’t kidnapped me, I’d call him hot!
 
He still had those smoldering dark brown
eyes; the chestnut messy hair and the smattering of freckles that make him look
innocent and harmless.
 
He was muscled as
all heck and tall! He used to be so sweet and nice... so many girls would be
interested in that.
 
Then I realize how
fucked up this all is... he’s a mental case!
 
And so I return to my line of questioning.

“Explain
opportunistic!” I demand, the words coming out more angry than I had thought
I’d felt.

He looks
wide eyed at me, at first taken aback... then he smiles a huge smile, wipes his
mouth on a napkin, stands up and takes both our plates to the sink, and washes
his hands.
 
He turns around and leans up
against the sink.
 
He places his hands on
the sink either side of his hips and looks at me.
 

“I really
was going home after seeing my parents.” He begins.

“I was
stopped at the lights, and you turned in front of me to go into the grocery
store.
 
I was mesmerized by you... I had
to see you again.
 
So, when the lights
turned green, I almost caused a crash and turned to follow you.
 
I parked almost opposite you and watched you
get out of your car.”
 
He looks me up and
down, spending more time on my breasts, before waving a hand at me like he is
showcasing my wares.

“You were
pregnant!
 
But way further along than I
thought when I’d seen your recent modeling photos.
 
I heard about you getting married, and I saw
some photo’s online... but you didn’t look pregnant at your wedding!
 
I had till that moment thought you’d gotten
pregnant after your wedding.
 
But
no!
 
He’d obviously knocked you up before
that!” he chuckles inwardly... “I couldn’t believe you’d let him fuck you
without protection, given all your talk about using condoms every time with
me... so I sat there, watching you, and thinking about how stupid I was!
 
I should’ve knocked you up and it would’ve
been me that you’d married.” He runs a hand over his chin; his eyes are narrow
on me.
 
He breathes...

“It made me
angry... so I hopped out and went around your car and slashed your driver’s
side tire.
 
I went into the store, and
then I almost fucked everything up right then and there; because I just felt so
overwhelmed looking at you, that I was right back at the day you broke my
heart.
 
I went and grabbed a bag of
chips, bought them and then made my way back out.”
 
He explains.

Unsure of
what to say, I say nothing and let him continue.

“I had
thought to force you into my vehicle at that moment, after you worked out the
tire was slashed.
 
But I realised that
was stupid, because people would see it happen and I’d get caught.
 
So I made everything up on the spot, as
things happened, you know...?”

“The best
thing about it all was that all the things that could’ve conspired against me
didn’t!
 
Everything worked in my
favor!
 
The rain and the fact that you
were in distress and needed help... I couldn’t have planned all that.” He
chuckles.
 
“It was meant to happen...
 
I was meant to see you and take you
home...
 
You are meant to be with me!” he
reasons and shrugs, a big smile spreading over his face.

I can’t
believe it... if I had’ve stayed home, none of this would’ve happened.
 
I want to cry.

“Jordan...
this is so fucked up!
 
I’m due to deliver
at any time!
 
You’ll be caught... and
your whole life will be fucked up... forever!” I stress.

“I’ll help
you have the baby.” He says.

I feel my hope crack in two pieces in that
moment and fall to the floor.

“What does
that even mean?” I say, my voice rising with incredulity.

“Women have
been having babies at home since time began!” he reasons.

I stand
shaking... I have a birth plan!
 
I have a
loving, wonderful husband, wanting to see his sons born... I have chosen an
epidural, I have no doubt the pain will cause me to behave a bit psycho!

“I am
having twins!
 
Twins, Jordan!” I
seethe.
 
“I’m not deluding myself that I
want a home birth!
 
I do not want to push
two babies out of my vagina by myself!” I shout.

There is something hugely fucking wrong with
this man!

He does me
the courtesy of blanching.

“Shit...
I’m sorry... but I’m doing my best here!” he reasons, his shoulders slumping.

I burst
into tears.

“Don’t cry
Summer
... I love you! I’ll think of something... I promise!”
he says, coming over and holding me.

I just let
him... I don’t care who holds me right now... even my captor.
 
I am now faced with birthing twins without
Blake, pain relief or pediatric care.
 
I
am completely and utterly confounded!
 
I’m slipping into a stupor.

Jordan
holds my face in his hands... I can’t make out what he is saying... I can’t
comprehend stuff right now.
 

I feel his
face move up to mine... feel his lips move on mine... feel him kissing me,
sweetly like he used to... and I can’t move...

*

I can’t
believe I’m merely grateful that Jordan didn’t go all the way with me, just
kissed me and held me like he was a kid in Middle School exploring things; I
should be horrified that he even touched me.
 
He didn’t care that I didn’t respond... I mean, it must’ve been like
kissing and holding a dead person.

He has
returned to the bedroom after going to the bathroom to have a shower.
 
I don’t doubt he spent the time pulling
himself off... he was sporting an erection when he left me, attaching me to the
bed first.

“Come on
Summer
... let’s get you ready for bed too.” He says, leaning
across the top of me to undo the cuffs.

He pulls me
up into a seated position, and begins to undo the bandages around my wrists.

I am
watching him caressing my bruised right wrist, tenderly touching the marks with
shaking hands.
 
I am suddenly incensed
that he feels he has a right to touch me.

“I don’t
love you Jordan... I don’t want to be with you!” I say emphatically.

He looks me
in the eyes and smiles, “You will... I’ll help you forget him.” He says, moving
onto my left wrist.

“By raping me?”
I ask indignantly.

Jordan
jerks back, but remains holding my left wrist.

“I have no
intention of raping you.” He categorically states.

“What is
all that then?” I ask, jerking my head toward the bed in reference to the
touching and kissing.

He looks
incredulously at me, before saying, “Your definition of rape is very different
to mine... my cock hasn’t touched any part of you!
 
And my hands haven’t gone anywhere near your
vagina, or your boobs for that matter.” He reasons.

It is true,
but I think he is merely leading up to wanting more.
 
His touching is intimate in its intention...
he knows that it is.

“You want
to though!” I accuse him.

“Of course!
 
But until you’re no longer pregnant with his
kids, I won’t!” he counters.

I begin to
cry at that moment... the thought of giving birth to my boys, and then having
to live with him in these confines, chained to the bed and trying to look after
my babies... it’s so impossibly fucked up, I can’t believe he can contemplate
that there is anything correct about his scenarios.

“Summer...
I really, really do love you.
 
You used
to love me... you will love me again, and you’ll want me to make love to you
then.” He reasons.

I just
cry
harder.

Jordan is
hugging me, and then he jumps back and giggles.
 
I look at him like he’s more than disturbed; he’s fucking out of his
skull
MAD!

He’s still
smiling, rubbing my belly.
 
He’s never
touched my belly before, sticking to my back.
 
My breasts, belly and pussy have all been no go zones before.
 
Now he’s got both hands firmly plastered on
my stomach.

“Little
bastard kicked me.” He laughs.

‘That’s because he wants to bash your head in
for his Dad!’
 
I think.

Jordan’s
face is the picture of wonder...
just
fucking great
... he’s getting over his aversion to Blake’s offspring!
 
I’m left wondering how long it will be till
he deludes himself into thinking that they’re in fact his kids.

“Come on
guys... let’s get Mom into the shower.” He tells my belly.
 
Fucking
amazing!
 
The answer to my previous
query is two seconds... it took him two bloody seconds to go from aversion to
ownership of the boys.

Blake.

Surely this
couldn’t go on.
 
We had all... every one
of us; lost the fight... we were walking zombies!

My entire
family were
in so much distress that we couldn’t work... or
clean clothes, or do the shopping, or even shower often enough.

Two fucking
weeks...

My wife...
my beautiful
Summer
!

My boys...
Felix Sal
and
Kane Blake
Austen!

I cry all
the time.
 
I’m surprised I haven’t lost
more condition!
 
Except, when I’m not
crying... I’m bashing the hell out of the punching bag downstairs.
 
It was originally set up for me as an
adolescent, when I couldn’t deal with the residual emotions of sexual
abuse.
 
Now I use it to help me refrain
from killing the only people that I have left to love.

Come home
Summer
... I
love you... I miss you... I’m dying without you!

Summer.