Held (17 page)

“Well, she didn’t really get away.”

“No. But she did for a minute. Until he caught up to her and dragged her back to the house kicking and screaming.”

Studying me, Ron asked, “What would you have done differently had you been her?”

I was careful with my words. I didn’t want him to know how I would do anything if I got away from him, because there would be a day when I did, and I didn’t want him to know what to look for.

“I think she did everything right. She just got caught. He was smarter than her. She did all she could.”

He kept staring at me and nodded, clearly satisfied. I assumed he was the man in the story, so saying that he was smarter than his
victim was a stroke to his ego.

If I guessed it right, Ron had sat around and fantasized about kidnapping and killing a woman. Or women. Instead of actually doing it, he’d written that book. However, the book was a flop. This gave him a reason to live out his fantasi
es for real, not just on paper.

Then again, I could be completely wrong. Maybe he was just a psychopath who enjoyed killing women and decided to write about it. His first book flopped, so he thought he’d write the next one as he tortured the women instead of later. After all, he had just told me that he wanted to write about Crystal while
it was still fresh in his mind.

Either way, the man was nuts.
And his book sucked.

That night, after he handcuffed me to the headboard, he kissed me goodnight and left, saying he was going to write. I welcomed the darkness and the silence.

I fell asleep quickly and had horrible dreams. In them, Ron was having his way with me. Oddly, in my dreams, I enjoyed it. I moaned and moved beneath him as he rocked me steadily. As he brought me to climax, I threw my head back, arched my back, and opened my eyes.

I
was shocked to discover that it was real. It wasn’t a dream. Ron was on top of me, naked and panting, and I was in the throes of a soul-shaking orgasm. I tried to stop it, but I was too far in. As my body tensed and spasmed, tears rolled from my eyes and dropped onto the pillow. I gasped and started to moan, but I bit my lower lip to stop it from happening. I couldn’t stop the orgasm, but I could stop the moan. Or so I thought. It still managed to escape me, though not as loudly as it would have otherwise. That was the most bizarre orgasm I’d ever had.

How could this happen? How could I have l
et it happen? I felt disgusted.

Minutes after my orgasm, Ron had one of his own. He quickened his thrusts and finally trembled on top of me, shuddering to a stop. He
lay on top of me for a few minutes, kissing my neck as his breathing returned to normal.

“That was amazing, Nicole. Absolutely amazing.” He
got up, kissing my breasts as he went. He grabbed his clothes and left me in the room alone, in the dark, crying, racked with even more guilt.

I felt like I’d cheated on Wade. I was so angry at both Ron and myself.
Was it normal? Did it happen to other women? I had no idea. It was one of the many things I’d have to ask the psychiatrist that I’d no doubt be seeing for years after I got out of this house.

The one thing that kept coming to my mind was would Wade be angry with me? Would he forgive me or feel as though I’d cheated on him?
I knew that he’d be so happy to see me alive he wouldn’t care about that and wouldn’t hold it against me. It wasn’t cheating. I was held captive by a madman who had forced himself on me while I slept. My dream state had tricked me. It’s not like I went out and got myself a boyfriend. He would know that.

But why did I still feel like I’d betrayed him?

Many days later, Ron left the house, saying he had several errands to run. He said he would be late getting back and that he’d pick up dinner while he was out. Discussing what dinner would be, we agreed on a pizza and he left.

I sat at the table,
doing word search puzzles, one after the other. It successfully kept my mind occupied until Ron returned with the pizza. To my surprise and dismay, he brought more than just a pizza.

He walked in, smiling, and set the pizza on the table.
He also had a brown paper bag, which he set on the floor beside his chair.

“Miss me?” he asked.

“Like an ingrown hair,” I replied.

He laughed and took two plates from the cabinet. As he
set them on the table, he said, “I have a surprise for you, Nicole.”

“Yeah? What is it? A dead puppy?”

He chuckled, as usual. “No. It’s better than that. But it can wait until after we’ve eaten, don’t you think?”

“If you weren’t going to give it to me until after we eat, why’d you mention it now?”

“To tease you, of course.” He smiled and served us each a piece of pizza and a soda.

We ate in silence for
a while. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but I was wondering what sort of surprise he could possibly have for me.

As soon as we were finished, Ron cleared the dishes from the table, put the remainder of the pizza on the counter by the refrigerator, and put our soda cans in the recycle bin. It still struck me as funny that a serial killer as twisted as Ron would recycle, but I’d seen him do it many times. Newspapers, aluminum cans, and plastic bottles. He was a saint except for that
nagging killing thing.

Ron returned to his chair and leaned over. I heard the bag rattle. He sat up straight, but didn’t show me what he had for me.

“Have you enjoyed your stay here, Nicole?”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious.”

“I’d rather be at home.”

“I know you would. But have you enjoyed your stay here?”

“It hasn’t been as bad as it could’ve been, I guess.”

He nodded. “I’ve brought you something I think you will enjoy greatly. It’s a little reward for behaving so well while you’ve been here. I made a stop while I was out today. I had to tell a little white lie.”

“As opposed to a big black one?”

He crunched his brows together. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head.

“Anyway, I know you’ve been here a while and I thought I’d do something nice for you. So I stopped off and got you this.”

He brought his hand up from his lap and placed the item on the table. When he pulled his hand back, I gasped.

“Where did you get that?” I demanded.

“You sound angry.”

“Where did you get that?”

“Well I didn’t get it from a store.”

“Where?” I said through clenched teeth, trying to keep from crying.

“Let’s just say it’s used.”

“You son of a bitch. Tell me where you got that.”

“I think you know, Nicole.”

I cried. I reached out with my left hand and picked it up. I slowly brought it up to my nose and inhaled deeply, breathing in a scent I hadn’t smelled in months. It was the wonderful scent of my beautiful baby boy.

“I see you recognize it as belonging to your son.”

I nodded.

“I thought you might.”

Struggling to control my emotions, I said, “It’s his first teddy bear. It’s one of his favorites.”

“That’s sweet,” he said without emotion.

“How did you get this?” I asked, thinking he’d broken into my house and stolen it.

“I took it before I left.”

“What do you mean before you left?”

“Well as Wade was leading the way to the door as I left, I picked it up.”

“Wait. You talked to Wade?” I couldn’t believe it.

“Yes.”

“Why? I don’t understand?” And it was clear that he didn’t want me to understand.

“I rang the doorbell and Wade answered.”

“Why were you at my house?” I didn’t disguise my anger with him. I couldn’t.

“I wanted to see the people you love.
Maybe figure out why you love them.”

“Did you see Mason?” I hoped he said yes, and I hoped he said no. I didn’t want him around my son, but I wanted to know if he was okay.

“Yes. He’s really a very cute baby. Wade isn’t bad looking either. Am I a better lover than him, Nicole? Be honest.”

This was one of those questions to which there was no right answer. Either way I went, I was undoubtedly walking into a trap.

“Nicole? Am I?”

“You’re different.”

“Good different or bad different?”

“You have a different style than he does.” I hoped that would satisfy him enough to shut up about it. The truth was I hated Ron and his touch. When I thought about him being inside me,
I cringed. When I thought of his spunk spilling into me, I nearly vomited. It disgusted me. I’d never felt that way with Wade.

He didn’t look as though my answer was the one he wanted to hear, but he did move on to other things.

“Wade seems to have moved on.”

“What?”

“Yes, he didn’t mention you once while I was there. He didn’t cry. Didn’t as much as sniffle while I was there, which was every bit of half an hour.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to show his feelings to a stranger.”

“Maybe. Or maybe he just doesn’t care about you anymore.”

I shook my head. “He cares.” I knew he cared. Nothing this asshole could say to me would change my mind about that.

“I don’t think so. There was no shrine built to you or anything. Like I said, he didn’t seem sad to me. I’m sure he’s moved on. It’s been a long time, after all.”

“It’s your fault that I’m not there with them, like I should be.” I fought to keep my voice even, but it was a battle I barely won.

“Do you not want to be here?”

“Of course I don’t want to be here
. I thought I made that perfectly clear from the first day. If I wanted to be here, I would’ve come over, rang your doorbell and asked if I could stay. You wouldn’t have had to drag me here with a gun to my ribs.”

He nodded. He left the room and went to the basement. I didn’t know what he was doing down there and I didn’t give a damn. I was pissed. He’d crossed a
line when he went to my house.

I closed my eyes and sniffed the little brown bear with the red bow around its neck, breathing in the marvelous aroma of baby. My
little Mason, with his daddy’s blue eyes and cheek dimples. I cried silently, wishing more than anything that I was home with him, bathing him, feeding him, rocking him, and singing to him. I longed to feel Wade’s arms holding me as I held Mason.

Come hell, high water, or an angry Ron, I was going to see them again.

Sometime later, Ron returned to the kitchen to find me sitting there, staring at the puzzle book, but not doing the puzzles. My mind was on my son and husband. I held the bear close to me, clutched tightly against my chest as if I was drowning and it was a life preserver.

“Are you glad I brought it
here?” Ron asked.

I shrugged. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say and frankly, I was tired of always guessing what the right thing to say was. It was mentally exhausting.

“Well, Nicole,” Ron snapped. “Would you rather I bring Mason here?”

I jerked my head up and looked at him, my heart racing.
As much as I wanted to see, hear, and hold Mason, the thought of him being trapped here with me was unbearable. Even the thought of this psycho touching him was enough to make me furious.

“You leave my family alone. Don’t you ever go to my house again
, and don’t you ever touch either of them.” I tried to keep my voice even, but it came out higher than I wanted and frantic sounding.

With more than an ounce of arrogance, Ron walked over to me and leaned down, hands on his knees. Eye level with me now and only a couple feet away, he spoke with an iciness I hadn’t heard before. At least I hadn’t heard him speak to me this way.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be barking out demands to me, Nicole. Now I enjoy your feisty attitude more than anyone, but you’re walking a fine line now between an adorable feisty attitude and a nasty insubordinate one. I don’t think you want to be insubordinate. I think you want to be the cute, feisty girl I fell in love with and play nice.”

I don’t know if it was the way he was talking to me as if I were a child or the tone he used, or maybe it was him saying he was in love with me, but for whatever reason, before I knew what was happening, I reached out and slapped him with my left hand. Had my right hand been free, I’d have punched him in the mouth. But my aim wasn’t as good with my left hand, so all I could do was slap him across the cheek.

Instantly, his face turned red. Not from the slap so much as from the anger that exploded in him. His eyes narrowed and I swear they darkened.

“How dare you?” he spit at me, his words heavy and menacing.

“How dare me?”I asked, finding my voice. “How dare you?”