Chapter 11
ELEVEN
MAGGIE
The weight of silence marrs the first hour of our journey, each mile of road stretching before us in stilted awkwardness.
What do you say to the man you’ve just drugged, twice, and kidnapped? The usual idle chatter about the weather isn’t going to cut it.
Roman sits still as you like. Albeit, his immobility isn’t much of an option with the paralytic drugs still coursing through his system. I pick up a pack of Polo mints and work one out, popping it into my mouth before holding the packet out.
‘Want one?’ I ask. More out of habitual politeness than anything.
Roman looks at the pack. His eyes slide to mine for one short, scathing look before looking back to the road ahead.
‘A no thank you would suffice,’ I say, dropping the packet back into the cup holder between us.
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not being polite enough to my captor?’ His voice drips with sarcasm, and I grip the wheel, swallowing down the urge to bite back at him. I get it, he’s not exactly going to be swapping stories like besties after what I’ve done.
‘I don’t want to do this.’ I maintain my focus on the road as I speak. ‘I don’t have a choice.’
‘There’s always a choice not to be a garbage human being.’ His words sting, but I understand why he thinks that.
‘It’s ten days of your life. That’s it. You can drink champagne, have every whim catered to, and then go home. Hell, I’ll even pay you if you like.’
‘There are people you can pay to hang out with you. You don’t have to go stalking them like a psycho.’
As if I hadn’t considered an escort. I had.
But my sister would have seen right through a mystery man appearing for the wedding before disappearing.
Roman is my neighbour. A real-life person I could feasibly end up dating.
His muscles drift through my head, and I recalibrate the thought.
Okay, maybe not feasible, but explainable at least.
‘There’s a lot behind the why of my reasoning, but really, it’ll be best for you to just go along with it.
Best for both of us. All I need is for you to play along as my boyfriend for a few days.
You don’t even need to kiss me or anything.
Society often expects couples to keep all of that behind closed doors. We have hours to figure out a story—’
Roman cuts me off, derision filling every word. ‘And why would I play along with this ruse? Why won’t I just tell them you’ve gone crazy and kidnapped me?’
Inhaling deeply, I steady my nerves. Time to drop a few truths.
‘There are two reasons. One: Because I know who you are. I know that you pretend to be this celibate spokesman for people who want to win in life, or whatever, but I also know it’s all a lie. I have footage of you with a woman in your bed, and more of you kissing them in the corridor.’
‘You’re a freak.’ His voice is deep. An angry hiss.
‘Well, I guess maybe I am. But you’re a hypocrite. And a liar. I’m not pretending to be anything other than a freak. You have more to lose by not playing along than I do.’
His jaw tenses, annoyance filling his chiselled face. ‘And reason two?’
‘My family won’t side with you. Sure, they’d assume I’m even more pathetic than they already suspect I am, but they will always have my back.’
‘Is that a threat?’
‘It’s not not a threat…’
Roman grows quiet, and the atmosphere in the car intensifies with each passing mile marker.
‘If I go home without a partner, my dad is going to make me marry a man I hate. Because I refuse to take over the family business, and he needs someone in that place to aid my sister and brother.’
Silence.
After a few miles, I try to justify myself again, cringing at the desperation in my voice.
‘I just need to buy myself some more time.’
Each tense mile passes with growing agitation. The more I try to say, the more annoyed he grows.
We pass Manchester, and my eyes sting. Between hardly sleeping with nerves and the exertion of dragging Roman’s backside down the stairs, I’m waning. I hoped to get us well into the highlands before stopping for the night, but it is becoming painfully obvious that I need to rest.
Putting my blinker on, I pull off on the next slip road, leaving the motorway behind. As much as my back will detest me for sleeping in the car, I can’t exactly drag Roman into a hotel all limp and enraged.
After a few twists and turns, I find a rural car park that looks to be part of a walking trail, perfectly uninhabited at the late hour.
Roman glares daggers at me as I get out of the car to stretch out my back, walking off the numb backside I’ve garnered from the drive. Grabbing a pack of wipes, I take myself off to the nearest bush and have a wee, arse to the wind and hoping to god Roman can’t see me in the mirror.
After a quick clean of my rear and my hands, I get back into the driver’s seat and open a bottle of water, taking a long drink. Roman watches me, his eyes still teaming with hatred, but his tongue darting over his lips.
‘Do you want some?’ I ask.
‘Not really when you’ve slobbered in.’ He spits the words at me, yet swallows hard when I go to put the cap back on the bottle. ‘…but yes.’
I pull out another bottle from the pack behind my seat and shift to hold the open top next to his lips. It’s awkward, and a stream dribbles down his chin as he guzzles it down.
‘Sorry,’ I say, getting a wipe out of the pack and dabbing it on his wet face.
‘When will the drugs wear off?’ he asks.
‘By morning. I think.’
‘You think?’
‘Despite what you think of me, I don’t make a habit of abducting people.’ I give him another drink, watching as he drains the bottle.
‘Can’t say I believe you,’ he says.
‘Well, I guess I should be honoured my first abduction is looking so thoroughly professional.’
‘There might be something you haven’t thought through.’ Roman’s eyes slide to look out of the window as he continues. ‘I need a piss.’
I tense. Fuck.
‘You can’t. You can’t walk.’
‘Doesn’t make a difference. If I can’t go out there, I’m going to have to go in here.’
I picture trying to sleep in a car reeking of wee, and it’s an absolute fucking no-go.
‘You’ll have to hold it.’
‘No, Maggie, you’ll have to hold it.’
‘Urgh,’ I groan. ‘No. I can’t.’
‘Hope you’ve got plenty of those wipes then…’
‘Don’t you dare,’ I say. And the fucker has the audacity to smirk. ‘You’re enjoying this.’
‘So sue me for enjoying you being served a fresh plate of just desserts.’
I look around the car until I settle on one of the empty bottles. Will it be big enough? Resigning myself with a sigh, I go around to the passenger side, armed with baby wipes and the bottle.
‘I can’t do this,’ I whisper as I stare at his zipper.
‘I’m sure you’ve seen a cock before. I’m the one who should be embarrassed.’ Roman still looks like he’s enjoying my discomfort far too much.
‘Of course I have. I’ve just never had to assist… well, you know.’
‘Brought it on yourself.’
‘Shut up.’ Straightening my shoulders, I put down the wipes and bottles and reach over him to unclick his belt, hauling his legs around and out onto the ground. His torso leans sideways against the backrest, and he finally looks at least a little embarrassed.
Up close, I get a whiff of the aftershave that clings to his throat, and see the way the vein in his neck thrums with each beat of his pulse.
Swallowing, I unbutton his trousers before tugging down the zip.
He looks over my shoulder as I reach in and wrap my fingers around his soft dick, pulling it past the zipper.
‘I can’t believe I’m doing this.’
‘Me either,’ Roman murmurs. ‘It’s usually more impressive when a woman gets her hands on it.’
I’m not about to admit it to the cocky twat, but the heft in his flaccid cock already impresses me. If only it were for other purposes.
‘I don’t think you’ll need the bottle,’ he says. ‘Now that you’ve turned me, you can probably just aim it at the floor.
‘You might pee on my shoes!’
‘You’d deserve it.’
‘Fuck off,’ I mutter. Standing to the side, and with me holding his man-meat like it’s about to detonate, I aim the tip toward the floor, looking away. A minute passes with nothing happening, me standing there like an idiot, silently dying inside.
‘Are you going to pee, or what?’ I ask.
‘I don’t exactly have full control at the moment, thanks to your drugs.’ Roman’s face is red when I look back at him.
‘Well, either make it happen or hold it in. I’m not standing here like a fleshy cock-stand all night.’
His eyebrows raise, and I can tell he wants to clap back with innuendo, but he bites it back. A moment later, a splash makes me jump.
‘Hold it steady,’ he yelps. ‘I don’t want to get it on my jeans.’
I want the ground to open me up and consume me whole. This absolutely isn’t what I signed up for. Yet, rudely, the car park remains firm beneath my feet, and I’m forced to stand there like a spare prick until he finishes.
I drop his cock the second he stops and shudder.
‘Well, that’s a bit rude,’ he says with a smirk.
‘Don’t try me.’
I clean him up with a baby wipe, being as brisk as I can be, before wiping my hands down four times.
I have to avoid the puddle with every step while grappling his legs back into the car before slamming the door closed.
I move the car to a different spot to try to distance myself from the entire wee-scented episode.
Determined to sleep, I lower my seat-back before reaching over Roman and doing the same. The closeness to his face makes me cringe, and I’m wholly regretting embarking on this absolutely insane endeavour by the time the seat inches into place.
Pretending I am in full control, even though internally I’m spiralling at an increasing rate, I pull out some cable ties.
‘What are you doing with those?’ Roman asks, narrowing his eyes.
‘Making sure you don’t scarper the minute the drugs wear off. Or kill me or something.’
‘You’re worried about me killing you?’
‘You’re pretty angry.’
‘Of course I’m bloody angry. But I’m not going to kill you.’ His voice hits a note of incredulity.
‘I’m not going to just take your word for it.’ I shrug, fastening a tie around his wrist and zipping it to the door pull. There’s nowhere to attach his other hand to the centre console, so I loop the other tie around the first on his other wrist and attach them together.
‘This feels unnecessary,’ he says.
‘It’s happening. Get some sleep.’
And despite him being the one tied up, he’s sleeping soundly long before I can drop off.