36. Melanie
CHAPTER 36
Melanie
My head swam with an almost pleasant buzzing sensation, and I vaguely wondered why my eyes were closed. A jumbled mess of thoughts vied for attention, and I couldn’t make sense of any of them.
A second later, the fear hit. Something was very, very wrong.
Confusion and panic made it almost impossible to think. My eyes flew open, but nothing made sense. Why was it so hard to breathe? My mouth wouldn’t open.
Closing my eyes, I tried to breathe through my nose. My body wanted to panic—to flee, to run, to lash out. But I couldn’t. My limbs were too heavy, my brain too fuzzy. Unconsciousness beckoned to me, the bliss of sleep almost too tempting to resist.
No. I forced my eyes open and took a deep breath.
I was lying on my side, on a soft surface. A mattress, maybe? The room was dark. I stretched out my legs, but they were stuck at the ankles.
The sensations plodded through my groggy brain like thick mud. Duct tape. There was duct tape over my mouth and around my ankles. My wrists were bound, and when I lifted my hands and tried to move, I met resistance. I looked up, squinting into the darkness. Was I chained to a wall?
Panic rose again, sharp and overwhelming. I wanted to flail and scream, but it was so hard to move. Where was I? How did I get there?
More deep breaths. I needed to think, not have a mental breakdown. But why couldn’t I seem to fully wake up?
Wait. I knew that feeling. The grogginess, the strange shadows at the corners of my vision, the desire to sink into unconsciousness, or maybe just stare at the wall and float for a while. I’d been drugged.
The football game. We’d been at the high school. I’d gone to the restroom and exited the wrong door, on the far side of the building. No one had been around, and the door to go back in had been locked.
But no. Someone had been there. I just hadn’t realized until it was too late.
He’d been so quiet, sneaking up on me like a silent predator. For a second, I’d had the awful realization that it was happening again. Someone had me, and my attempt to fight back was quickly neutralized as I lost consciousness.
I couldn’t remember anything after that. I didn’t know where I was, or how I’d gotten there. But I had a feeling it involved the trunk of a car.
Anger flared through me, burning away some of the haze. I didn’t know how this had happened to me again. Could lightning strike the same person twice? Apparently so. But I’d fought my way out once. I’d just have to do it again.
Fucker didn’t know who he was dealing with.
A sound sent a jolt of fear through me. A click, then a slight squeak, like a door opening on old hinges. The creak of stairs. Someone was coming.
“Are you awake?” he asked.
That voice. It sent a chill down my spine. But my stubborn streak was stronger than the fear or the drugs in my system. I didn’t move, even to nod.
His footsteps seemed to disappear, although I could feel him draw closer to me. How was he so freaking quiet? A light flipped on, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut against the brightness.
As he came around the mattress, I blinked, trying to adjust to the light. He peered down at me with something like curiosity in his gaze. He looked oddly plain, almost generic, although he was vaguely familiar. Blond hair cut short, eyes that were a dull blue-gray. No facial hair. Gray T-shirt and jeans. He was wiry rather than bulky, but the memory of his arm around my neck flashed through my mind. He was stronger than he looked.
His mouth turned up in a slow smile. That was when my still groggy brain registered an alarming fact. He was letting me see his face.
That couldn’t be a good sign.
“Look at you.” His tone was almost reverent. “I’ve waited so long for this. It’s even better than I imagined.”
With my mouth taped shut, I couldn’t reply, even if I’d wanted to.
Shadows seemed to move behind him, but I couldn’t tell if they were real or hallucinations. He had something small and black in his hand, and as he lifted it, he seemed to point it at me. A flash went off.
A camera. He was taking pictures.
I glared at him. If he wanted me afraid, he was going to be disappointed.
Not that I wasn’t scared. I was terrified. But screw him. If glaring at him was the only act of defiance I could manage, I’d glare with the fury of a thousand suns.
Lowering the camera, he crouched next to me and tilted his head. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to the first time, but you never gave me the chance to explain.”
The first time? Whether it was the drugs in my system or the shock of what he’d just said, it took me a few seconds to process what he was saying.
Was it him?
“You really don’t remember me, do you?” he asked. “Not from our time together, before, of course. We didn’t get this far last time. I underestimated you. Believe me, that won’t happen again.”
Remember him? How could I remember? The man who’d taken me hadn’t shown his face. I’d never seen him. It was why he got away. There’d been no way to find him.
But something tickled at the edges of my memory. That face. I’d seen him before. Where?
“Of course you don’t remember.” His expression darkened, a spasm of anger distorting his features, and he lowered his voice. “No one remembers me. They don’t even see me.”
He stood and started to pace back and forth in front of the mattress, opening and closing his fists. “You were supposed to know. I’ve been waiting for this. I wanted the moment when you knew. When you realized it was me all along.”
I watched him while he muttered to himself, still walking back and forth. I didn’t know what he wanted from me. He’d taped my mouth shut, what the hell did he expect me to say?
“Fine. I’ll show you.”
He grabbed the camera and disappeared. The stairs creaked, followed by the soft swish of a door opening. Craning my neck, I could see a set of wooden stairs behind me. The light from the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling hurt my eyes, but I kept watching the door.
A moment later, he came down again, his footfalls making more noise. He crouched and held something in front of my face.
I blinked a few times, trying to get my eyes to focus. It was a playbill, old and slightly faded. Sunset Community Theater presents P.S. I Adore You .
I’d been in that play, back when I’d still been doing live theater. In fact, it was the last one I did, because it was right before…
My eyes moved to his face again. I did recognize him. He’d been part of the stage crew. Lighting and effects, maybe? A quiet guy, rarely talked to anyone. In fact, we’d hardly noticed him.
“Yes,” he said, his voice low. “You remember now, don’t you? We worked together for months. You were the highlight of that job, Melanie. So talented. So beautiful.”
Bile burned the back of my throat, and my stomach felt queasy. I really hoped I didn’t vomit with tape over my mouth. I’d probably choke to death before this guy could take me out.
There’d be some irony in that, though. The predator watching his intended victim gurgle and suffocate before he could finish the job.
Apparently, my flair for drama wasn’t diminished by mortal terror.
Which gave me an idea. Or at least, the beginnings of an idea. I wasn’t sure how to make it work, and my brain was still struggling to keep up. I didn’t think I’d be able to fight my way out. After my admittedly lucky blow to his nuts the first time, he’d be ready for that. It was why I didn’t remember how I got there. He’d kept me unconscious long enough to put me somewhere secure.
But I was a trained actor. Maybe I could use that.
“Unfortunately, there was another man.” He stood and tossed the playbill aside, as if it were no longer important to him. “I would have liked to have been able to do things differently, but I knew it would never work. He was a suit. A lawyer who made good money. I was just a lowly stagehand making minimum wage. Not even good enough to be cast in the ensemble.”
A lawyer? Had he known about my ex? Jared and I had only just started dating when I’d been in that production.
My confusion must have shown on my face, even with my mouth taped shut.
“Don’t look so surprised. Of course I knew about your boyfriend. I probably knew more about him than you did, Melanie. I knew you weren’t the only woman. You would have thanked me, eventually. I would have saved you from him.”
The fact that Jared might have been cheating on me when we were first dating would have hurt, once. But it didn’t even surprise me. And I had much bigger problems.
“I know about your new boyfriend, too.”
Don’t react. Don’t react. I wanted to fly off the mattress and castrate him for just the mention of Luke. But I didn’t want him to know that. I wanted him to think I was still groggy. So I kept my face as neutral as possible, just watching, waiting for him to continue.
“I thought I might have to get rid of him. The arrogant jerk wouldn’t leave you alone. But he doesn’t matter now. I’m sure he’ll try to find you, but he won’t. I’ve been careful. And we won’t be staying here long anyway.”
My stomach churned again. I really wanted the tape off my face. Character voices, each with their own persona, swirled through my head. What did he expect? Even more, what did he want? Who was he hoping I’d be?
Quiet guy. We’d hardly noticed him. They didn’t even see me.
The stagehand. What was his name? Damn it. He had a weird name. One I’d never heard before.
Roswell.
It popped into my head out of nowhere. I wasn’t sure if it was some kind of auditory hallucination or if I’d actually remembered his name. But it seemed right.
I made a small noise, lifting my voice as if I were trying to ask a question.
Tilting his head again, he blinked. “Don’t ask me to untie you. That’s not happening.”
I gave my head a little shake. I’d be innocent and afraid. A little bit defiant, because he’d expect that, but also in awe of him. He wanted to be seen. Remembered.
He watched me like he was considering what to do next. I let my fear show, pleading with him with my eyes.
After a long moment, he pulled something out of his pocket and held it up.
A syringe.
“Don’t try anything.” He crouched next to me. “I don’t want to put you to sleep again, but I will I if have to.”
I nodded.
He ripped the tape off my face. It hurt like hell, but I pressed my lips together, determined not to cry out in pain. My mouth was so dry, I would have given a kidney for a glass of water. Well, not to him. But to someone who really needed one.
When I raised my eyes to meet his, I wasn’t Melanie Andolini. I wasn’t Queen Ione, with her maniacal laugh and haughty contempt, or the Southern belle with her sass, or any number of other characters I’d played whose voices were still in my head.
I was a damsel in distress. Helpless and docile. Who’d lashed out at him once and scored a lucky shot. But who would quickly learn her place and cooperate.
“Roswell,” I whispered.
The grin that stole over his features spoke volumes. I was right about his name and couldn’t have chosen a better opening line.
“I don’t use that name here. You remember? ”
I nodded. “LA. You worked for the Sunset Theater. One of the regulars on the crew.”
The second part was a guess, but a reasonable one. Sunset had been known for retaining their crew members rather than hiring new ones for each show.
“That’s right.” There was a hint of pleasure in his voice.
I kind of hated not having a script for this, but I could ad lib with the best of them. “I thought you didn’t like me. You always ignored me.”
“No.” He lowered himself onto the floor and crossed his legs. “Is that what you thought?”
I nodded.
“Sweet Melanie.” He reached out and brushed a lock of hair from my forehead.
It was all I could do not to flinch.
“I never disliked you,” he said in that eerie soft voice that made my skin crawl. “I wanted to be close to you, but you were so beautiful. So unapproachable. You weren’t the star of that show, but you were the star of mine.”
Rude. Way to rub it in that I’d missed out on the lead.
“I followed you. I knew where you went, every day. That coffee shop up the street from the theater before rehearsals. The market on the corner where you bought groceries. I thought about stopping to talk to you, but you never saw me.”
“How could I? You were hiding from me.”
His mouth lifted in a grin. “I suppose I was.”
I shifted, pulling at the bonds at my wrists. “This hurts.”
His smile disappeared. “No. I’m not untying you so you can kick me in the balls again.”
“I didn’t know.” The hint of panic in my voice wasn’t an act. It was hard to keep from losing it. “I didn’t know it was you. You didn’t tell me. I didn’t see your face.”
“No one sees me.” He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “You’ll love me eventually, my sweet Melanie. You’ll learn. I’m a very patient man, and I’ve been planning this for a long time. There’s no need to rush. Eventually you’ll understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That you’re mine.”
Those words in Luke’s mouth had set me on fire. The same words from that psychopath turned my blood to ice.
“You’ve always been the one who got away. But you won’t get away from me again.” He glanced toward the stairs, as if something had caught his attention, and got to his feet. “I’d planned to stay here longer, but I think we’re going to have to leave soon. The more I think about it, the more I realize it’s the right thing to do. I need to get you away from here.”
“Where?”
“That’s not your concern.” He bent down and met my eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I will, if that’s what it takes. If you can be a good girl and stay quiet while I go upstairs, I’ll bring you a drink of water. If you can’t—if you make any noise at all—I won’t.”
He turned and went back up the stairs, quiet as a whisper.