Wanted (6 page)

“I
know who you are, you sick bastard!  I know what you did to those girls!”
I scream.  I keep pulling on the handcuff but I realize it’s useless. It’s
not coming off and it’s hurting my wrist.  I feel hopeless.  I stop
pulling and kicking and try to breathe.  I curl up into a ball and cry,
begging him over and over to please not hurt me and to please let me go. 

“Can
you please listen to me?  Please?  I don’t want to hurt you.  I
swear.”  I continue to rock myself back and forth begging him not to hurt
me.  “Can you please just listen to me?”  His voice is deep and raspy
but right now there is a gentleness that makes me stop and listen to him. 
I sniffle as I try to stop crying and get my breathing under control. I lay
still curling into myself, hiding my face in the mattress. 

“What’s
your name?”

“Vanessa.” 
I gasp each syllable.

“Vanessa,
I know you’re scared. I had no intention of getting you involved in this
shit.  Listen to me okay. I didn’t fucking hurt those girls.  It
wasn’t me.”

“I
saw your picture.  Your girlfriend identified you.”

“I
know!  I don’t know what the fuck’s going on. I tried to talk to her and
she wouldn’t talk to me.  I have no fucking idea why she would say I did
that to her.  She was my best friend.  Everyone thinks it was
me.  They have witnesses. It fucking wasn’t me!  I’ve been holed up
in this tiny fucking cabin in the middle of nowhere for the last month trying
to figure out what the hell is going on but I still have no clue. I can’t go
anywhere or I’ll be recognized and I can’t call anyone because I don’t know who
to trust.” He glances up at me as I am still cowering. “Shit!  You don’t
believe me do you?”  He asks shaking his head.

“I
don’t know what to say.”  I turn my head to look at his face. His
expression is filled with torment. He knows I can’t fight back but he hasn’t
tried to hurt me or touch me. He seems sincere.

“If
I were a rapist or murderer, why would I pull you from a car wreck and bring
you here?  I could have left you there to die.  I could have raped
you while you were unconscious.  I could do anything I want to you right now! 
I fucking gave you pain meds!”

“I
woke up handcuffed to the bed and my pants are gone.” I deadpan.  I
realize that this is exactly what I wished for the other day.  Only under
much different circumstances.

“I
didn’t fucking touch you! I handcuffed you because I didn’t know when you were
going to wake up and I couldn’t let you run or kill me in my sleep! Your pants
are gone because you had some pretty nasty cuts on your legs.  Your jeans
were shredded.  I had to cut them off so I could clean out the cuts. In
fact, I think one of the cuts has an infection and you should take an
antibiotic. You look like your burning up.  I need to clean it again
too.  Will you let me?  Or are you going to hit me?”

I
don’t know why I trust what he’s telling me but I can see it in his eyes. 
They are piercing blue.  Hypnotic.  I see a bit of vulnerability in
them.  I’m so stupid.  I’m the perfect victim. I think I have that
Stockholm syndrome.  I nod my head, giving him permission.  Yes,
touch me.

He
sits beside me with a bottle of peroxide, a tube of ointment and a bag of
cotton balls.  He pulls the sheet off of my legs keeping his eyes on
mine.  I’m just in my plain white underwear and a wife beater tank
top.  They are both filthy, like I rolled around on the dirty
pavement.  Right.  I did.  I wonder where my bag is.  My
phone?  He dunks the cotton ball in the peroxide and starts to reach
towards my thigh.

“This
might sting a little.”  I feel his big, warm hand touch my upper thigh and
push it slightly, spreading my legs. My lips part slightly from the unexpected
tingle that spreads through my body.  I watch him as he swabs the cotton
ball on my leg.  He touches the tip of his tongue to his top lip as he
concentrates on cleaning my cut. I immediately imagine that tongue on me. 
In my mouth, on my breasts, between my legs.  Oh God, my panties are damp
now.  I wonder if he can see it or smell my arousal.  His face is so
close to my thigh as he tends to my wound.  My thoughts are interrupted as
the peroxide soaks into my cut.  My leg flinches away from his touch and I
cry out from the burn.

“Sorry. 
I’m going to put some of this antibiotic cream on it and it should start to
feel better.  Hold still.”  His fingertip swirls the cold cream over
my cut and it already starts to feels better.  I close my eyes as he pats
my leg and pulls the sheet back over me. He leans over to the nightstand and
pours two more pills out of one of the bottles.  “Take this.  It’s
just an antibiotic.  It will kill the infection.  How’s your
arm?” 

“It’s
just sore.  How do you know so much about this sort of stuff?”

“I
was majoring in cell biology and pre-med at Western Colorado.  I know a
little.”

That
surprises me. He’s smart.  He’s really smart.  He saved my
life.  He’s also wanted for murder.  I take a moment to really study
his profile as he’s putting away the antibiotics.  He’s handsome.  He
needs a haircut and a shave but his eyes are beautiful.  I shift my eyes
down his body.  He’s big and muscular. I suddenly have a vision of those
arms wrapped around me, protecting me.  I believe he won’t hurt me. 
“Thanks.  Thanks for not leaving me in the road and thanks for taking care
of me.”

He
nods his head.  “Listen, I think you should rest and let your body
heal.  When you wake up, you can take a shower and I’ll get you something
to eat.  Good?”

“Can
you uncuff me?”  I pull my wrist, clanking the cuffs against the iron
headboard.

He
looks unsure.  “Yeah, I can do that.”  He reaches over and unlocks
the cuff.  I pull my wrist down and massage it.  The pain medicine is
already working again. My body is feeling pretty numb.  I’m not consumed
with the fear I was earlier. He already had plenty of opportunity to hurt me
and so far he has only helped me.  I let my heavy eyelids start to close
but I can feel him still there.  He’s watching me.  Instead of fear,
calmness washes over me and I feel instant relief on my dry eyes as I close
them and drift off.

I
watch her fall asleep and realize that she must trust me.  At least a
little.  A smile tries to force its way on my face even though it’s been
over a month since I had anything to smile about.  I know I’m still in
trouble and in even more trouble because of her but somehow having her here is
making everything so much easier to deal with.  I’ve been hiding for over
a month.   33 days of me alone with my thoughts, obsessed with
updates on the news.  Newscasters discussing my whereabouts and repeating
the gruesome details of the murders and attempted murder of my best friend
Kim.  Vanessa’s like an angel that was dropped down from the sky to add
some light to my darkness.

I
close the door and resume my spot on the chair in front of the fireplace and
think about her.  I must be one sick fuck because as I sit here with my
head thrown back in the chair, legs spread,  I conjure up the image of her
cowering in that bed in her underwear making those scared whimper noises with
her wrist handcuffed to the bed.  Her blonde hair a tangled mess sticking
to her moist skin. Her lips full and pink. I close my eyes and think of her
soft pale skin under my fingertips and my dick is instantly straining against
my zipper again.  I slouch further down on the chair, unfastening my
jeans.  I pull them down past my hips and grip my cock.  It’s
painfully hard.  I imagine her begging me to fuck her while she’s
restrained to the bed.  Her legs spread wide for me, looking at me with
those big green eyes. I start stroking myself slowly as I envision crawling up
her body and slipping inside her while her eyes close slowly as I enter
her.  She makes little sounds that cause my fist to pump harder.  I’m
pounding into her and she’s screaming my name over and over.  I start
thrusting my hips into my hand as I see her arching her body into mine.  With
a loud groan, I release into my hand.  I milk myself as I slow my
breathing and then open my eyes and turn towards the bedroom door.  It’s
still closed.  I pull my pants up with one hand, leaving them unfastened
and wash my hands in the kitchen sink.  Holy shit.  I feel so much
better.

I
sit back in the chair and close my eyes for a couple of hours and wake in a
panic.  I look behind my shoulder at the closed bedroom door and pray she
didn’t leave while I was asleep.  The police could be on their way for all
I know.  I creep over to the door holding my breath and open it slowly.

She
lays there staring at the wall.  Her eyes are swollen and wet.  I
know she’s scared and wants to go home.  I can’t let her.  I’d go to
prison.

She
turns her head toward me.  She must have sensed me watching her.  Her
eyes roam down my bare chest and then further down and her eyes widen.  I
follow her gaze and realize I never fastened my pants.  They just hang off
my hips unbuttoned with the zipper down. 

I
can’t even explain why they’re like that.  I just fasten them and pretend
it never happened.  She watches me and licks her lips and I swear I see
desire in her eyes.

“See
something you like?”  She turns her blushed face away from me and I have
to calm myself down before I do something really stupid.  I take a couple
breaths and look up at her.  She’s staring at the wall again.  “I’m
sorry you can’t go home.  I know tomorrow is Christmas.  I promise
I’ll take you home as soon as I can figure out what’s going on.”

“I
can call my parents.  I can tell them you’re innocent.  They’ll help,
they’re good people.”

“I
can’t let you do that.  The police have witnesses that it was me.  I
ran. I took you.  I’m in big trouble and I can’t trust anyone.  Not
even your parents.  I’m sorry.”

“I
believe you didn’t do it.”  She whispers. She attempts to sit up and I
rush over to assist her.  I sit next to her on the bed feeling a little
guilty about where my thoughts travelled earlier.

“Thanks. 
That means a lot.  Listen, you could probably use a shower.  There’s
shampoo and soap in there.  Nothing girly.  We’re both going to smell
like Old Spice. Be careful with that arm.”  I can tell she trusts that I’m
not going to hurt her but it doesn’t mean she won’t run.  She wants to go
home.  I don’t like the idea of keeping her prisoner here but I can’t go
to prison. “Just so you know, we’re very remote in the mountains.  There
are several miles of dirt road until you get to another house or another
road.  Nobody is out here this time of year.  The road is covered now
with several inches of new snow.  What I’m telling you is, don’t try to
run again. You won’t make it far.”  I try not to sound too threatening but
she needs to know she can’t leave.

She
just nods her head, glaring at me. “Where is my bag?  My phone?”

“I
don’t have them. They must still be in your car.  I can give you something
to wear.”  I search the closet and dig through some stuff.  I don’t
have much but I guess she’ll have to make this work.  I hand her a pile of
clothing and she holds each item up in front of her.  An extra-large
Western Colorado t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants in a large and a pair of men’s
boxers in a large.  She’s tiny so I know what she’s thinking.

“It’s
all I have. Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll cook us something to eat, then
you should really lay back down and rest.  I don’t have any fancy food
here.  Is macaroni and cheese okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You
need help?”  I ask as I see her wince when she swings her legs over the
side of the bed.

“What?
No!”

“I
didn’t mean anything by it! Shit!  It’s going to be hard for you to get
dressed and undressed with a sore arm and bruised ribs.  I’m not a fucking
creep.  You said you believed me.”  I don’t know why I’m so
mad.  Maybe because I just finished jacking off to the vision of her
handcuffed in her underwear begging me to fuck her.  I am a fucking
creep.  Shit!

“I
didn’t mean to offend you. I just don’t know you, that’s all.” She yells back
at me.

“I
get it.”  I pull at my hair in frustration before I walk out.  She
has every right to be weary of me.  I held her against her will for fucks
sake!

I
take the clothes and walk out of the bedroom looking for the bathroom. 
The cabin is probably no bigger than 600 square feet.  One bedroom. 
An open space with a small chair in front of a fireplace, a small TV off to the
side and a kitchen area in the back with a card table and two chairs. 
Ryan’s in the kitchen, so I take the opportunity to glance at the front door again. 
It’s really dark outside now.  He told me I wouldn’t get very far.  I
have no idea where I am and it’s freezing out there.  I don’t see a phone
anywhere and mine is in my car somewhere on the side of the road.  I walk
towards the bathroom watching Ryan work in the kitchen.  As he’s holding
the pot that’s filling with water, I can see his back muscles flex through his
shirt, and shit, I think I need medicine for my fever.  He must sense my
presence.  He turns his head towards me and nods once.  I step into
the bathroom and close the door.  My heart is beating so fast.  I
lean against the door and close my eyes.  I don’t know if this funny
feeling in my tummy is from fear or something else entirely.

It
is really hard to undress with a disabled arm and bruised ribs.  I squeeze
my eyes tight trying to bare the pain but once I step into the hot shower, I
forget about it.  I just stand under the stream of hot water and let it
massage my sore body.  I reach for the soap and almost laugh.  He
wasn’t kidding. It’s old Spice.  I wash the best I can.  I can’t wash
my hair.  I can’t lift my arm above my head, but where am I going? 
It doesn’t really matter.  I turn off the water and go to grab the
towel. 

“Oh
God!!”  I scream like I’m being murdered.  I back up as far as I can
against the wall screaming my head off.  The door flies open and Ryan runs
in pointing a gun!  A fucking gun! 

“What
are you doing?!”  I scream at him.

“You
were screaming!  What happened?”

“There’s
a spider on my towel!”  I point in horror.  “It’s big!”

“What
the fuck?”

“Shoot
it!!” I scream at him as if he has no common sense.

“I
can’t fucking shoot a spider.”  He laughs at me while I continue to squirm
naked in the shower.  “Relax.”  He walks over to the toilet paper
holder and tears off three squares.

“You’re
gonna need more than that.  It’s meaty.”

He
walks over and gently scoops up the giant spider with the toilet paper and then
promptly flushes him down the toilet.

“He
was dead, right?  He’s not going to crawl back up the side, is he?”

“He’s
gone.  You’re safe.”  He holds the towel in front of me but when I go
to grab it, he pulls it away, smirking at me.  I stand against the wall
dripping wet and naked in front of this stranger and I don’t even try to cover
myself.  I let him look.  He takes his time.  His gaze roams
over my breasts and my hard nipples, down my flat stomach and lands on my bare
pussy.  His tongue darts out of his mouth and touches the top of his
lip.  He must do that when he’s turned on.  I can see he’s turned on. 
His jeans are bulging and I can see his chest moving in and out vigorously with
each breath.  I should be frightened.  I’m his captive.  He’s
been here alone for over a month with no contact.  He could do anything to
me and I wouldn’t be able to stop him but I’m not scared anymore.  I’m
buzzing with adrenaline.  His eyes stroll back up to my eyes and we
connect.  My heart beats rapidly as we have this strange connection. 

“See
something you like?”  I ask sarcastically, throwing his words back at
him.  He smiles and his entire face lights up in amusement.  He
wasn’t expecting that.  He shakes his head looking down at the ground and
then brings his eyes back to mine and replies, “You’re beautiful.” 

He
slowly hands me the towel and then looks away with this hands on his hips, like
whatever happened between us just now spooked him and he’s trying to pull
himself together.  I grab the towel from him and cover myself.  My
entire body is hot and I feel like I need to squeeze my thighs together to stop
the ache that’s developing there. 

“Thank
you.”

“You
are very welcome.”  He says winking at me before he exits the bathroom.

I
dry off and dress quickly, keeping my eye out for any more of those
eight-legged creatures.  Spiders and creepy bugs absolutely terrify
me.  My hair is still dripping and I don’t have a brush so I leave
it.  I’m exhausted all of a sudden from all the activity.  I walk out
of the bathroom and Ryan is sitting at the small table with a spoon of macaroni
halfway to his mouth.  He freezes, running his eyes over my body like he
did in the shower.  I look down at myself wondering if I forgot a piece of
clothing.  He’s already seen me naked now so it doesn’t matter.  His
shirt hangs almost to my knees and even though I rolled his sweatpants at my
waist three times, they still drag on the ground. 

“You
look good in my clothes.” He says with a crooked smile and then winks at me
again.   “Come sit with me.  Eat.”

I
sit down and stare at my bowl with uncertainty. “Seriously?”  He
chuckles.  “You think I spiked your mac & cheese?   Even
after I saved you from the spider?”

His
laugh is infectious so I laugh too.  Something about him makes me feel so
comfortable.  I’m starving, so without any more hesitation, I dig in. I
shove a huge bite into my mouth and close my eyes.  “So good…”  I
moan with my mouth full.  I never usually allow myself the pleasure of
mac& cheese.   I open my eyes and notice him staring at my mouth
for a moment and then he tears his gaze away quickly. 

“Glad
you like it. It’s either this or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. 
Actually, I’m out of jelly.  So peanut butter sandwiches. Tomorrow
everything is closed but Tuesday I can take you out to get anything you
need.  We just have to disguise ourselves and be careful.”  He
studies me probably wondering if taking me out in public is smart.  I can
scream.  I can run.  I can go home.

I
suddenly feel sick to my stomach knowing I am going to miss Christmas with my
family.  Mason is probably hysterical.  I feel my eyes start to burn
with tears. 

“I’m
sorry.”  He whispers.

“I
can help you figure out what’s going on.”

“You’re
probably a missing person now. They’ll be looking for you too.”

“Which
means we have to come up with a plan quick and figure out what’s going
on.  They will find us eventually.”

“Why
would you help me?”

“Because
I want to go home.”

“Can
I trust you?”   He asks.

“Can
I trust you?” I throw back.

We
stare into each other’s eyes trying to read each other.

“I
guess we have no choice.  We have to trust each other.” He says.