Chapter 20
Emerson
I slowly pry my eyes open, but they still feel heavy. They snap closed, and I have to force them to open again. I try to move my arms, to reach for my face, but I can’t move them. Panic takes over as I tug at my arms, but it doesn’t help. I try to speak, but my mouth feels so dry it’s useless.
“Hello?” I call softly. My voice is hoarse and scratchy.
“You’re awake,” I hear a man’s voice to my side and turn my head to look at him. It’s him. The man who saved me or took me. Whichever way you want to look at it. “You’ve been out for a long time,” he adds.
“How long?”
“Almost a week. I was getting worried about you,” he tells me. Why the hell would he be worried about me? “I know you have questions, and I’ll answer what I can, but don’t push me too far,” he informs me. I don’t know what the hell that means, but I nod my head anyway.
“Where am I?”
“My house.”
“You took me from him.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Did you want to die there?” he asks. I shake my head. No, I didn’t want to die there, but if I had been there any longer, I know I would have. “You’re pretty sick, Emerson. You have fluids and antibiotics running non-stop until you get better.”
“Why am I cuffed to the bed?” I ask this time.
“For your safety as well as mine,” he tells me.
“Why am I here?”
“Because I want you here.”
“How do you know me?”
“We’ve met before,” he answers, being vague. I know he isn’t going to answer all my questions at once, and honestly, I don’t feel well enough to keep talking, so I don’t. I lay my head back on the pillow and sighed, looking up at the ceiling. I should probably be panicking that I’m cuffed to this man’s bed, and I might later on, but at this point, I don’t have the energy to do it. I feel weak. I feel tired.
“You’re going to need a lot of rest,” he says.
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Gannix.”
“I don’t remember you,” I whisper.
“You probably wouldn’t. We’ll get into that later. Would you like to try something to eat?” he asks.
“I … I don’t think so.”
“That’s fine. The doctor said you’re getting enough with the IVs for now.”
“Why are you taking care of me? Did you know the man who took me?” I see the look in his eyes. He doesn’t want to tell me. He doesn’t want to answer, and so he doesn’t. He sits on the edge of his bed and looks at me intently.
“I understand you want answers, but as I said, I can’t give them all to you right now. What do you remember about your time with him?”
“Why should I answer you? You won’t answer me.” I see a ghost of a smile curl his lips as he nods his head.
“You’re right. I’m taking care of you because I want to. When you were gone, I wasn’t myself, Emerson.”
“We weren’t together.”
“No. Not technically.”
“What does that mean?” I ask this time.
“What do you remember?” he asks in return.
“There were girls. So many girls. There was a light, it was so bright and hot it burned us. Then he’d turn on cold air and freeze us.” Something dark flashes in Gannix’s eyes as he looks at me.
“The whip marks?”
“He … he whipped us. Mainly me.”
“Why you?”
“I would talk back, and he hated that,” I admit to him. I clear my throat a few times when he moves to grab something and comes back, sitting on the edge of the bed. When I look at his hand, I see he has a bottle of water with a straw in it. He lifts my head in one hand and brings the straw to my lips. I’m almost afraid to drink it, thinking it might be poison of some kind. He must be able to see my thoughts because he grins and shakes his head.
“If I wanted to hurt you, drug you, I could easily do it with the IVs.” He’s right. He could. I let him put the straw into my mouth and I take a few small sips of the water before he pulls it away.
“You don’t want to drink too much at once,” he warns.
“I don’t understand any of this,” I mumble as I let my head fall back onto the pillow.
“I know, and I wish I could tell you more, but not right now.” I nod my head as he stands and walks through the room. It’s hard not to watch a man who looks like him. My eyes track him as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. I swallow hard as I take him in before he tugs another shirt over his head, blocking my view. He turns quickly to catch me staring, but he doesn’t smile or say anything.
Instead, he walks back over to the bigger bed and pulls the blankets back, about to climb in.
“Can … can I have another blanket?” I ask wearily.
“Of course.” He moves to the closet and pulls out a blanket before coming back over and placing it over me. “Better?”
“Yeah. Thank you.” I watch him climb into his bed and pull the blankets up, lying on his side so he’s looking at me.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’ve been looking at you for a very long time, Emerson.”
“What does that mean?”
“You remember that credit card? The cameras?” he asks me. Reality slams into me as the shock takes over. That was him? He was the one watching me?
“You … you’ve been watching me all this time? You were the one who sent me those things?” I ask, sounding panicked now.
“It was me.”
“And the other shit? The shirt?”
“That was him. I’m only sorry I didn’t realize who it was sooner. I didn’t know he was planning on taking you,” he admits to me.
“So you know him?”
“I do.”
“And what? You think he’s not going to come after me again?”
“Oh, he will. He’ll come after both of us now I’ve taken you from him. You were supposed to be dead, Emerson.”
“Dead? The other girls?” I ask as tears fall down my cheeks, wetting the pillow beneath me.
“Dead. They’re all dead.”
“And I was supposed to die with them?” He nods his head, never taking his eyes off me. “And you didn’t kill me? You were supposed to kill me.”
“That’s right.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t want you dead, Emerson. I want you alive.”
“I don’t understand,” I whisper.
“And you probably won’t for a while. In time, I’ll explain it to you, but for now, I want you to rest and relax. You’re safe here or as safe as you can be.”
“As safe as I can be? Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No. But it is the truth.”
“This is insane. Uncuff me,” I demand, but he doesn’t move. In fact, his facial expression never changes. He lies there, just staring at me.
“I said uncuff me!” I yell a little louder this time before I start to cough. My chest feels like it’s on fire, although it is slightly better than it was before.
“I’m not going to uncuff you, Emerson. Go to sleep.”
“I don’t want to be here! Just let me go!”
“I’m not going to do that either. You’re mine, Emerson. Whether you know it or not, you are.”
“What? Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t even know you!”
“You do know me. You just don’t remember me.”
“I would remember you if I knew you,” I snap at him. How would I forget a man who looks like him? There’s no way.
“You were drugged when I fucked you and probably will be the next time too.”
“If you think I’m fucking you for taking care of me, you’re crazy,” I hiss at him. Gannix laughs, and it pisses me off. I tug at the restraints, but I can’t move.
“Listen, baby. You’re going to have to get used to the fact you’re mine, and I’ll do whatever I want to you.”
“So you took me from one sick fuck, and you’re just like him?”
“No. I’m not exactly like him. I would never have beaten you or gotten you that sick.”
“But you would hurt me?” Now he smiles, and it makes me shiver.
“Yes. I will be hurting you, but not in the way you think.”
“How then?”
“It’s time to rest, Emerson. There’s always tomorrow.” With that, he stops talking and reaches over, flipping the light off. The room grows dark but I can still feel his gaze on me. I look back at the ceiling and try to close my eyes, but I can’t sleep. I want answers. I want to know why the hell I’m here, why he has me, why he took me, and why the hell saved me.
But as I lay here trying to figure all this out, I hear him softly breathing in the bed next to me, and I know he’s fallen asleep.