Chapter 9 Collette
I wasn’t scared of Ian Holdt. I really wasn’t. But I knew there was a purpose in him telling me to get familiar with my space.
What on earth could he have planned?
There was simply no way for me to figure it out. I had no clues to work from. I wasn’t going to be put on the defensive in this game simply because I didn’t follow his directions.
And it felt like a game. Undeclared or not, we were both feeling each other out for strengths and weaknesses that might give us the higher ground.
Technically, right now he had the higher ground, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from finding out the information I’d come to obtain.
The first thing I’d done was push the buttons on the elevator to see if I could go upstairs.
When he’d been showing me the room, he hadn’t given any rules. There weren’t any limits. At least not yet. I needed to act now before I was limited. Now, I had blissful ignorance on my side.
Nope, the elevator didn’t open. I hadn’t really expected it to.
He’d brought me here for a reason. It was my job to figure out what that reason was.
In the little time we’d had together, he must have given me something that would help me to wade through this unusual situation. I needed to think over everything that was said, and in his case not said to figure out what the circumstances were.
The kitchen cabinets held a variety of cooking supplies, with spices filling one space. No canned or boxed food though.
Similarly, the refrigerator was empty except for a loaf of bread and a package of lunch meat.
Unsure of when he’d refill things or if he would, I could wait until tomorrow to eat.
What if he’d drugged the food?
I’d heard of things like this when people were kidnapped. They’d put stuff in the food to make their victims sleep or unable to fight or even sick.
It wasn’t the best way to survive, but until Mr. Holdt made his move, I would manage. I didn’t have any other options at this point.
Morning was soon enough to find out if the food was going to be edible or not.
This didn’t bode well for my hungry stomach. I’d gone a couple of days before with little to no food. It had been years, but I knew that I could deal with a few hunger pangs.
He had no clue how determined to survive a child raised in the foster system could become. If winning this game was a matter of inner strength, then Ian Holdt was in for a surprise. I took pleasure in that idea. He seemed to be a man who was always in control. Well, he’d have a battle with trying to control me. If foster parents and the system couldn’t do it to me as a child, how would somebody be able to do it to me as an adult?
Memorization was a tool I’d learned during my college years. It was why I easily walked the room and paced off the steps needed to get to each space.
While librarians were given a lot of crap for knowing useless information, I had never found that to be true. Nothing was useless when properly categorized. You just had to know the difference between something vital and something that wasn’t needed in a dire situation.
It wasn’t a comfort to know things though, but it was all I had for the moment.
I flopped onto the couch after examining all the features of the room. Most of the items were bolted to the floor or screwed down.
My shoes hit the floor at the end of the sofa. If I were going to be a prisoner of some sort, I might as well be comfortable with it.
Whatever game this man was playing I was more than willing to beat him at it.
I compartmentalized my memories of Andy and my grief. Needing to find out what made this man tick had become even more important. This was no longer only about justice and revenge, the game had expanded to survival.
***
Hours had passed since I’d walked into Ian Holdt’s office. It was rapidly approaching the time when I’d normally go to bed.
I could tell because I was tired in addition to hungry.
My body would adjust to a new schedule, but I still wasn’t sure what kind of time frame I was looking at either.
Mr. Holdt—I wouldn’t think of him as Ian, that would give him too much power over me—hadn’t mentioned when my job duties would start during the interview or the contract signing.
Really, now that I was thinking about it, he hadn’t mentioned much of anything.
He had asked all sorts of crazy questions, but hadn’t said much about the job itself.
What if there wasn’t really a job? What if he only wanted me for an experiment?
A test subject. Although I hadn’t heard any sort of rumors about Holdt Tech doing those types of tests, the subjects might not have survived.
Money could buy anything. Live test subjects weren’t that far out of the realm of possibility. Disposing of said no longer living test subjects would be just as doable.
What if Andy had only seen the dollar signs and volunteered for this type of research thing?
Nah, he couldn’t have been doing research because we wouldn’t have found his body with a bullet hole in it. They would have disposed of the evidence in a much different manner.
Either way was murder, but being shot in the head was meant as a statement. Something to teach a lesson to others, either ‘this is a punishment’ or ‘stay away from our turf.’
Maybe that’s what Andy was doing with Holdt Tech. Trying to shine the light on illegal practices. That would explain why he’d been murdered after he talked to Ian Holdt.
This situation could go wrong in so many ways. I just needed to be prepared mentally and physically for whatever type of tests I was going to be put through.
After eighteen years in the system, I was a pro at passing tests and making do with what I was given. Learning to anticipate others had been drilled into my head since before I could walk. It was the only way to survive without severe punishment.
Without anything to wear to bed, I peeled off my clothes. I’d slept in panties and a bra before. I could do it again.
The blanket on the bed seemed overkill because it was a temperature regulated room. Still, I did enjoy the lovely texture of the cover and sheets.
Smooth to the touch, which probably meant some high thread count. A luxury I’d rarely experienced.
I’d never understood why people wanted them. Those types of sheets caused the person on them to slide off. Unless there was a trick to staying on the bed I hadn’t discovered, this was going to be an adventure in sleeping.
Leave it to Ian Holdt to challenge me while trying to get some rest. He probably thought that everyone wanted to have the luxurious feeling of sleeping on sheets like this.
The thermostat on the wall was set to seventy-two degrees, a little cool but nice for sleeping.
When I crawled into the bed, even though the sheets bothered me, I noticed that the mattress was soft but supportive. It was more comfortable than the one I had at home. Then again I was a poor college student and hadn’t had extra money for expensive mattresses.
This whole place reeked of money. The understated elegance of it couldn’t be ignored. He had made a point to decorate in a manner that would impress people with quiet luxury.
The problem with that strategy was I wasn’t most individuals. Possessions didn’t impress me much.
That was one thing about being rich that I’d never understood.
Why on earth would you buy things just because you could? Was it because when you had more money than you knew what to do with, you just had to buy things?
What motivated the wealthy?
I could get the whole needing the money to live and eat thing, but at a certain point it became more about having it than needing it.
Andy had always had sky high goals for when we finally left foster care and started our adult lives. He was the dreamer of the us. He always wanted to thrive and take hold of life. I wanted to survive and be comfortable. I wanted to know bills were paid, and never had a need for anything because my basic needs were met.
Something in Andy always pushed for more.
“There’s more out there for us, Lettie. We can own the world, if we just set our minds to it.”
He would get so animated when talking about life after eighteen.
That was his motivation. Money. Not having to be dependent on anyone ever again.
I understood. I just wasn’t as worried about it. Security was important, but hope wasn’t one of my motivators.
Why on earth would I expect a break from the universe?
His death was another example of how the cards were stacked against us.
Poor Andy. Our chosen sibling bond and guilt were potent motivators. In order to get justice for him, I had to fall back into survival mode.
I’d pass whatever test was put in front of me.
What did Ian Holdt have hidden up his sleeve?
He had a plan. Of that I had no doubts, but what they could have to do with me was a completely different thing.
I stared at the ceiling, unable to close my eyes.
A plan. That was what I needed to focus on. How I would escape if things went the wrong way.
Who was I kidding? It had already gone the wrong way.
I was locked in a basement with basically no food. No way out if there were a fire. Completely at his mercy.
Ian Holdt did not strike me as a merciful man. He hadn’t gotten to where he was—owner of a very successful company—by not knowing how to get what he wanted from others.
When they came down to bring food, I could try to overpower Rossi.
I chuckled. The image alone was laughable. He probably had professional training. I wasn’t equipped to take down a grown man.
Didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try though if things didn’t change though. I wouldn’t starve without a fight.
Even if the wedges I’d worn weren’t even good weapon material.
Who was I kidding? Fighting my way out wasn’t an option.
I would have to sneak around either one of them, but there were going to be other safeguards to keep me from being able to run the elevator without Mr. Holdt or Rossi.
Sex.
He’d mentioned sex. It could be the weakness that I was looking for. I’d been in too many situations where I’d had to use my womanly assets to get out of a bad place.
Some people had hang ups about using sex to get what they wanted or needed, I didn’t. A person had to use whatever was at their disposal to keep moving forward.
I had been given these assets and it was up to me to decide how I was going to use them. If sex was the means it would take to give me Andy’s killer, then I would be okay with that.
It wasn’t any different than being able to kick a football for a field goal for the team. Or using my brain to find a way to work through a situation.
From a young age, I’d known that sex was something that could be used in negotiations or to be bartered with.
People got so squeamish about it. It was no different than any other bodily function. An itch that needed to be scratched on occasion. Something to use for procreation.
Andy had been certain that love was out there. It was something he’d believed in with his whole heart. Not just a sexual encounter, but someone that would love him. Together, they’d build a family and a home.
His romanticism was one of the reasons I loved him. For myself, I didn’t believe anything of the kind. Love was just an emotion that people spoke of to keep their relationships intact. No one really loved anyone romantically past the first flush of infatuation. Humans were selfish beings that had little capacity to love anyone but ourselves.
I never begrudged that dream for Andy though. I wanted that for him, because I wanted him to be happy. I wanted him to have the life he’d planned for himself. Now he wouldn’t have that, and I hated it.
If Mr. Holdt wanted sex from me, then I was going to give it to him after I got what I wanted.
Just in case that wasn’t the only thing that would work, I still needed to figure out another way to get above the ground floor.
Sex with Mr. Holdt was more appealing than some of the fuck buddies I’d used during my college and high school years. The body couldn’t be ignored for long periods of time. It was a need that I’d taken care of.
Not only did he smell amazing, but he was hot as fuck.
I could feel myself getting wet at the thought of riding him to orgasm.
His toned physique made me think he could handle a more intense sexual experience than the average guy. It was all about stamina.
What would his hands feel like brushing down my skin? His hand in mine had felt exciting, but I was afraid he might become an addiction that would be hard to break when I left.
I had to find a way out of here.
He was the enemy. I couldn’t let him get this far into my mind.
Andy was dead because of him.
But what if he hadn’t caused his death personally?
“Collette, don’t be an idiot,”
I muttered to myself.
The simple thought of sex had me hoping that Ian Holdt wasn’t the reason my brother was dead.
“You know the truth. Stay strong,”
I repeated over and over as my eyes closed.
***
I jerked awake.
What time was it? Where was I?
Unsure of my surroundings, I noticed the bathroom light was on still.
From all the years in foster care, I had to have some source of light on while asleep.
You couldn’t be prepared for an attack in the dark. There was an element of surprise that had always bothered me about the dark.
I sighed in relief.
This was the basement of Ian Holdt’s cabin.
That shouldn’t have been a reason to be relieved.
He hadn’t hurt me. Yet.
Unsure of what time it was, or how long I had slept, I made my way to the restroom to answer nature’s call.
Finished and clothed again in the same outfit from yesterday, I sat on the sofa, wondering when he was going to make a move.
The intercom crackled.
I turned, curious until Mr. Holdt’s voice filled the room.
“Good morning, Ms. DeLandro. I hope you used the time allotted wisely to familiarize yourself with your surroundings.”
“Yeah, I did, you asshole. I learned there isn’t anything to eat or do in this godforsaken room. If you are paying me to be tortured, then you are on the right track,”
I yelled, unsure if he could hear me.
I had been very calm until this point. This was a game after all and I had to play my part. He needed to think that I wasn’t some pushover. I needed to show a little spunk and fight or he might decide that I wasn’t worth the effort for whatever game he was playing.
Intercoms were generally used for one way communication, and I wasn’t going to push that button to try to speak with him.
This was his game. Let him play it. I wanted to see when he was going to tip his hand to me.
I felt a little better having yelled. I was just about to congratulate myself when his voice rumbled through the room again.
“You are able to walk away at any time. Just push the call button, and you’ll be released. There is no shame in not wanting to continue.”
His voice faded, and I could tell that I’d managed to win this round. I didn’t let the glee that filled me show.
The room was plunged into darkness.
“What the fuck?”
I scream. “What are you doing?”
“You chose this,”
he reminded me as if that answered all of my questions.
The intercom went silent.
Not a single ray of light was left anywhere.