Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Adeline
I try to move my head but can’t. Instead, my eyes dart around, trying to see inside the room, but all I see is darkness; no windows, only a door where I can see faint light streaming in from underneath.
I don’t know when I fall asleep, but I eventually succumb to it. I don’t remember him coming to bed either, but when I awake, it is to him rolling over and pulling me against him. I squirm, finding I can move, and I carefully sit up. I quietly look around the room.
This is my chance to escape.
The events from yesterday come back to me and Sam drugging me.
I look at the ground before seeing one of his shirts on the end of the bed.
I reach over, pulling it on, being careful not to wake him.
I tiptoe to the door, twisting the knob.
My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.
The door is locked, and turning around, I find Sam sitting in the bed, staring at me.
“You’re awake?” he says, smiling.
“I… um… yeah, slept like a baby,” I tell him nervously.
“Can you unlock the door? I need to pee,” I tell him.
He stands up, stretching.
“Come here,” he says, and I hesitate, which he notices.
My stomach drops when he suddenly walks over to me, and I step back away from him.
“Now, why would you do that? I thought we could have a good morning, have breakfast together, and enjoy each other’s company,” he says, reaching for me.
I smack his hand away.
“What’s got into you, Ada?” he snaps at me.
“You drugged me!” I tell him.
“No, I just helped you. You should be grateful I saved you so we can be together.”
“Saved me? You fucking kidnapped me!” I yell at him, which I realize is a huge mistake.
His jaw clenches, and I realize he is insane, completely insane. He grabs me, tossing me on the bed. I thrash, trying to get out of his grip, when he suddenly slaps me. My face whips to the side from the force.
He just hit me. Sam just hit me.
“I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to. You gave me no choice. You were acting crazy. You know I love you,” he says, rubbing my cheek.
I flinch, my hands trembling on my chest.
“Now, don’t be difficult. Come, I will give you your medicine. Then we will have breakfast. Does that sound nice?” he asks, brushing my hair with his hand.
I don’t answer, and he grips the braid, yanking my head back.
“I said, does that sound nice, my love?” he asks again, his voice turning harsh.
Tears spring in my eyes, and I try to nod.
“Y… yes, that sounds nice,” I tell him.
My entire body is trembling in fear. My brain is questioning everything I thought I knew about this man.
“That’s my girl,” he says, gripping my face and making me look at him.
He kisses me, forcing his tongue between my lips, and I fight the urge to bite his tongue off as it invades my mouth.
My tongue is immobile while he assaults my mouth.
He moans, completely oblivious to me not reacting to him.
Either that, or he doesn’t care. When he is done, he climbs off me before walking to the door.
He pulls a chain necklace off and over his head before unlocking the door with the key attached to it.
“Come, Ada. I went to the city last night. I got coffee and those chocolate wafer things you like,” he says, like he’s not just assaulted me.
I hesitantly get up, following him out of the room, looking for anything that might aid in my escape.
The place is pretty bare. It has a TV and heaps of pictures on the walls, but nothing I can use as a weapon.
I follow him to the kitchen, and he pulls a chair out for me.
I sit in it, looking around the small kitchenette.
He starts rummaging in the fridge and pantry.
“Want some help?” I ask, deciding that maybe playing along would be my best chance of getting out of here. He is unhinged, completely insane. I just can’t understand how I haven’t realized it before.
“No, I want to make you breakfast. I want to do everything for you, Ada. Just you wait. I have so many plans for us,” he says, busying himself with cooking.
“I am just going to use the bathroom really quickly,” I tell him, and he nods.
I get up, walking to the bathroom. I walk in and am about to close the door when I realize there isn’t one.
I could have sworn there was a door last night.
Looking at the frame, I notice hinge marks and realize he must have removed it while I was asleep.
Looking over my shoulder, I quickly pee before getting up and washing my hands.
I notice there are no windows in here either, but it has an exhaust fan.
I look through the drawers under the sink, trying to find anything to help me.
Turning around, I see Sam standing next to the door, making me jump.
“What are you looking for?”
I wrack my brain, trying to come up with an excuse, an answer to give him.
“Panadol. I have cramps,” I tell him.
He watches me for a second before nodding. “I have some in the kitchen,” he says, and I nod, walking toward him.
He puts his arm on the door, stopping me from leaving. He reaches into his pocket, pulling a vial of that disgusting liquid out again.
“Your medicine,” he says, holding it out to me.
“I don’t need it. You gave me some yesterday,” I tell him, about to walk past, but he grips my arm.
“You need to drink it daily. We don’t want any unexpected visitors, do we?” he says, looking down at me, his grip bruising my arm.
“You will drink it, Ada. It’s the only way for us to be together,” he says, and I take it from him.
“It’s gross. Can I get some juice or something with it?” I ask, hoping I will have a chance to tip it out somewhere.
“Of course,” he says, letting me go and moving his arm off the frame.
I walk toward the kitchen, his hand on my lower back. He grabs a bottle of juice and pours me a glass. He hands it to me, standing directly in front of me.
“Thanks,” I tell him, turning around and walking into the living room.
“Drink your juice first and medicine,” he says, and I stop, looking back at him.
He has his hand on the counter with a knife in his grip.
I gulp before forcing myself to smile through my fear. He waits, and I pull the little cork out with my teeth before bringing the vial to my lips. I down it like a shot before gulping the juice to get rid of the taste.
“Show me,” he says, and I stare at him, confused.
“Come here and show me,” he says, waving me forward.
I step toward him, and he reaches out, jerking me to him before pinching my cheeks.
“Lift your tongue,” he says and goes on to examine my mouth.
“You make me so happy,” he says, letting my face go.
I nod, and he pulls me closer, hugging me.
“Want me to get a hot water bottle for your cramps?” he asks.
I almost ask him what cramps, when I realize I told him that. I nod against his chest, and he kisses my hair.
“Go hop in bed. I will bring you breakfast,” he says, gripping my chin and making me look up at him.
His eyes sparkle back at me, crinkling around the edges as he smiles down at me.
“I love you,” he tells me.
I say nothing when he kisses me gently on the side of the mouth.
“I know you love me too. It will get easier once you settle in, and you will realize I am right for you, Ada. You will see how good for you I am.”
I nod, pulling away when he pulls me back to him.
He grabs my breast through his shirt, squeezing it, his other hand squeezing my naked ass under his shirt.
He kisses me again, but this time, forcing his tongue in my mouth, his kisses becoming harder, almost bruising.
I realize he is trying to get me to kiss him back.
His grip on my body hurts as his fingers bruise my breast. I kiss him back, and he groans, pressing himself against me, and I can feel his erection digging into my stomach. He suddenly lets go, pulling back.
“Go hop back in bed where it’s warm,” he says, slapping my ass.
I have to force myself to walk slowly from the room when all I want to do is run.
Sam comes in around half an hour later. I can smell bacon and eggs and fried tomatoes. He brings in a tray and places it on my lap, a hot water bottle tucked under his arm. He pulls the blankets back and places the hot water bottle behind my back.
“Better?” he asks, and I nod.
I look down at the tray, hoping there would be a knife or even a fork, something I could maybe hide to help me.
Sam pulls a knife and fork from his back pocket before sitting next to me.
He doesn’t hand them to me. Instead, he starts cutting everything up into bite-size pieces.
I watch him, and he seems calm and almost relaxed despite the strange scenario he has me in. He then hand-feeds me.
“I can do it myself,” I whisper to him, grabbing his hand as he brings the fork to my lips.
“No, I will do it. Ada, open your mouth. You don’t want to make me mad, do you? I don’t want to have to punish you,” he says, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear that has escaped the braid.
He cups my cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip and tugging it down.
I open my mouth, and he puts the fork in my mouth. I chew slowly. He seems happy and smiles, happy that I’ve done what he’s asked.
I try to just eat with my fingers, not like this weird intimate moment of him feeding me, but he slaps my hands.
I try to tell him I am halfway through it, but he gets mad, telling me I have to eat everything.
The knife in his hand starts shaking, scratching my hand and causing it to bleed, and I nod, letting him feed me.
When he is done, he walks out before returning with a syringe.
I jump up, rushing across the bed, trying to escape him.
He reaches for me, lunging across the bed, and I dart out of the room, running for the front door.
I grab it and almost yanked my shoulder out, but the door is locked.
I realize there are multiple locks on the door before I feel his body slam against mine, forcing the air to leave my lungs.
“I really wish you hadn’t done that,” he says, stabbing the needle in my arm.
He steps back, and I turn, my hand going to my arm before I clutch the door handle, the entire room spinning and my legs giving out. I remember seeing the roof as I crash to the ground before Sam stands above me.
He clicks his tongue, looking down at me.
“Why do you have to be difficult?” he says, shaking his head before bending down.
He picks my limp body off the ground just as darkness takes over.