Chapter 27
Kristin
April 21
Sunday, present day
Tears burnedthe back of Kristin’s eyes and she bit her lip to keep from crying. The drug was wearing off again. God, how she didn’t want it to. Staying drugged was the only way she could mentally survive, because it kept her from thinking. Feeling.
The professor liked it when the drug wasn’t in her system anymore. He liked to hear her scream. Watch her cry. Hurt her. Listen to her beg for him to stop and to let her go.
If she tried to hold it in, he just hurt her more.
She tested the cuffs and the heavy chains—just in case— like she did every time the drug wore off. She wasn’t a quitter; she never had been, but this…
Kristin swallowed hard and barely kept from letting a sob out. After all this time, what good were tears?
The only time the professor let her off the bed was to use the adjoining bathroom. She had stopped being embarrassed when he watched her relieve herself on the toilet. What did it matter?
He chained her to the showerhead and washed her body himself. Usually, he would get so turned on he’d rape her in the shower while the water washed away her tears. He’d slap her backside especially hard because he liked the sound of his hand hitting her wet flesh.
The professor made her take the pill every day. He told her that by skipping the pseudo tablets for the week she was supposed to have her period, he would make her jump straight to next month’s pill. Then she would never have her period. She would never get pregnant.
And he could do whatever he wanted to with her, anytime he wanted to, day or night.
He didn’t even use a condom.
She suspected he took something like Viagra. An older man like him wasn’t likely to last several times a day, every day, was he?
Other than letting her use the bathroom and giving her a shower, he never let her far from the bed, much less out of the room. He kept her naked and cuffed. Always, both wrists.
The links between the cuffs were so short that she couldn’t reach for anything. All she could do was ease off the bed sometimes and kneel on the soft carpet to change positions, or curl up in a ball on the mattress and hug a thick wooden bedpost, unless her ankles were cuffed, too.
He wouldn’t even let her feed herself. He insisted on making her eat from his hands like a dog. If she refused, he slapped her so hard her ears would ring and she would cry out for him to stop.
The two-inch-wide cuffs were lined with sheepskin, which kept the metal from biting into her wrists. Still, they made her skin sore and red. In his more “kindly” moments the professor put balm on her irritated skin. That was the only time she would have a free wrist. But he always made sure her ankles were cuffed along with her other wrist before switching.
It wasn’t like she had a black belt or something. Although she could scratch the professor’s eyeballs out and kick him in his groin.
If only she’d taken those self-defense classes like her brother, Nick, had tried to get her to. Or listened to him when he wanted to teach her moves that would help her if she was ever in a dangerous situation. She pictured the last time he’d talked about her learning how to defend herself.
“Damn it, Kristin,” Nick had said, his blue eyes serious and concerned. “You’re on a college campus. Some guy could rape you.”
She’d flinched at the word “rape,” but still she said, “I always stay in public places with someone with me.” She’d kissed him on his cheek. “I’ll be okay, Nick. Don’t worry so much.”
Her brother hugged her tight. “I love you, kiddo. I couldn’t bear anything happening to you.”
She’d hugged him back. “I love you, too.”
She was such an idiot.
Oh, yeah, she’d been in a public place with friends. Didn’t end up mattering, did it?
Her heart ached when she thought of Nick. Would she ever see him again? She squeezed her eyes tight.
Mother. Father.
If they were still alive, they would have paid for not just one PI but a hundred to search for her. They could have afforded it.
But Nick would still have been the one to find her. He would find her. She knew it with all her heart, and that kept her going, day to day.
Nick would find her.
Had it already been four weeks since she’d found herself strapped to Professor Michaels’s bed?
The days ticked off in Kristin’s head automatically. Having a photographic memory and a calculator in her head made forgetting so difficult. Even after being drugged her mind would come fully awake once the drug wore off completely.
Tick. Another day. Tick. Another day.
But she wanted to forget, everything.
The doorknob squeaked and Kristin’s body went rigid.
Professor Michaels smiled as he let the door swing open. This time he didn’t close it behind him.
She couldn’t stop the trembling in her body as he came toward the bed. His bald head gleamed in the low lighting from the stained-glass lamp on the nightstand. It was too far to reach, or she would have kicked it over just so she didn’t have to look at his pale, round face or his excited blue eyes. Eyes that showed his eagerness to rape her and abuse her.
“Did you rest well, slut?” he asked when he reached the side of her bed.
Referring to her only as slut was just one more degrading thing on a list of things that he did to her that her mind continued to check off.
The tears were already starting to come as she forced herself to nod and say, “Y-yes, Professor.”
She barely kept from crying out as he pinched, then twisted her nipple with his thick fingers. “I have something very special for you, slut.”
Again, she had to speak or he would slap her. “W—what do you have for me. Professor?”
“I’m going to have extremely important company shortly.” He leaned close and she shuddered as he licked the inside of her ear. “Company that enjoys certain kinds of entertainment, company that likes to share.”
Kristin’s heart pounded as horror rushed through her like needles pricking her entire body. “No.” She shook her head. “Please, no.”
He rose and held his hand high, his palm facing her. “You keep forgetting your place, slut.”
“Professor Michaels.” She found herself already wincing as she called him by the only thing he would accept. Fear continued to stab at every organ in her body. He was serious. Oh, God. It was in his eyes. The way he looked at her, the sound of his voice. “Please, Professor. No.”
Images rushed through her mind of one man after another taking her, using her.
Kristin had always believed violence didn’t solve problems. But now, more than anything, she wanted this man to die. She wanted Nick to come and blow the professor away like he’d probably had to do to men when he was a SEAL.
Her whole body trembled so hard the mattress shook.
She’d never even believed in the death penalty.
Until now.
“Please, no,” she said again as tears rolled down the sides of her temples and nameless, blank faces started appearing in her mind. Faces of men ready to sexually abuse her. “Please, please, Professor. I’ll do anything, anything for you. Anything you want me to.”
“Don’t worry, my darling Kristin.” The professor smiled and lowered his hand. “You’ll enjoy it.” He reached into the pocket of his tan slacks. Steel blade after steel blade of terror jabbed Kristin’s belly as he drew out a syringe of green liquid. “You’ll want it, slut. And you’ll beg for it.”