Chapter Three #2
“Are you sure? He’s miserable today,” she responds in a hushed tone.
“I’ll deal with him, don’t you worry,” I reply softly.
I like Mia. She’s never acted afraid of me and always seems to know the right thing to say. Even with Alfie, she’s kind, considerate, but she doesn’t take any shit from him. She practically runs his whole business. He better pay her well to put up with his mood swings.
“Austin. You know how I feel about missed sessions.”
His annoyance permeates through the phone and scratches at the insides of my ears. God, he’s annoying.
“Good reason coming your way. Do you remember Olivia?”
He sighs in that exasperated way that only he can muster. “The same Olivia you’ve talked about at every session for the last two years? That Olivia?”
“That’s the one. Well, you’re not going to believe this.” I do love to tease him.
“What?”
I’ve piqued his curiosity now.
“She kidnapped me. Me! Can you believe it?”
“Austin...are you alright? You seem happy about this, and this doesn’t sound like a good thing,” he replies using his doctor voice, the one that’s without judgment, but really is ready to press a secret button under his desk that tells Mia to call emergency services.
“Well, like you said, she’s finally paying an interest after two years. Of course it’s a good thing. Besides I’m fine, and this way, I can get to know her more. Once she comes back into the basement.”
“Okay. So you don’t want me to alert the authorities that you’ve been kidnapped?”
“Absolutely not. This is a perfect opportunity to lay some groundwork,” I say quickly.
There’s silence on the phone for a minute, and I finally hear him sigh. That’s what you need to do in these situations. If your therapist can’t make you better, you can one hundred percent make them worse.
“Can you promise me you’re not in any immediate danger?” he finally asks.
“Safe as a baby at a fire station.”
“And she doesn’t appear to be unstable?”
“Nope,” I quip.
“Did she explain why she kidnapped you?”
“Not yet, but as you taught me, I’m trying to get that delayed gratification.”
“That’s not a good time to use that, Austin,” he huffs out, and I can practically see his eyes roll to the back of his head.
Silence permeates through the phone as I hold my breath.
Finally, his gruff voice sounds out. “Then I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but it might be a good idea for you to see this through.”
“Yes, doc! I knew it.”
“But you will need to be back for your Friday session next week in person . Otherwise, I will immediately alert the authorities.”
“Understood. That’s more than enough time.” I ponder how much I can learn about her in a whole week.
“Dare I ask, enough time for what? ”
I grin. “To make her fall in love with me, of course.”
“Of course.” He clicks his tongue. “I trust that phone is a burner you’ve managed to keep hidden?”
“Yes. It was my backup one in my boot. I told you it was sensible to keep one. You told me it was me clinging to the insecurities of my past, and I should get rid of it.”
“Yes, well, good thing you never listen to me, isn’t it?”
I chuckle. “Certainly is. I’ll call you if anything goes awry.”
“Please do. Good luck, Austin.”
I hang up the phone. Thank god Alfie isn’t a conventional therapist. Imagine having to actually act normal for someone. Now, I just have to convince my dream girl that I am worth more than storing in her basement.
Olivia Daniels. Christ. I rub my face awkwardly with both palms. I’d been thinking with my dick when I placed that cloth on my mouth.
As if, somehow, I could get her into bed after she kidnapped me.
I glance over to the bucket she’d left me.
That is a slight concern. Her clearing up my piss and shit bucket doesn’t exactly scream, “Take me to bed.” And I plan for her to do just that when the time is right.
The afternoon light from the one window soon fades away, and a golden luster fills the room, softening its sharp edges.
I click on the lamp and the warm glow douses the room into a soft light.
Lying back on the bed with not much to do but wait.
I’ve been hoping she would come back down by now, but a few hours is nothing.
I’d kept prisoners chained and waiting for days, sometimes a full week, to weaken them.
Keep them wanting for basic interaction so that they were so malleable that there’d be no need to break them.
Of course, there was always the exception.
Regardless, I didn’t do those things anymore.
My new business is somewhat of a PG-13 operation.
The slide of the dead bolt from the top of the stairs pulls me out of my thoughts and back to the present.
“Hello?” Olivia calls out, as if to make sure I was still alive.
I could play dead, but I’d rather start off on her good side.
“Hello.”
She makes her way down the stairs, gingerly descending each step.
“How are you?”
“Quite well, how are you?” I reply, smirking. Such a strange tactic she’s using.
She huffs a little as she hops off the final step. She is holding a plate of food in one hand and some clothes in the other.
“I brought some things for you,” she mutters, her cheeks flushing pink.
“Thank you. Although I’m not sure how I’m going to change my clothes.”
She holds my gaze for a moment before running her eyes down my body.
Her piercing stare dips lower and lower until it lands directly on the chains around my waist. Pulled down by gravity, the main link is right in front of my dick.
Realizing she must already know this, having put the chains on me, she would have been up close and personal while I was knocked out.
My mouth waters at the thought. Is she thinking about it now?
Letting out a sharp breath, she moves closer and then bends to put the plate of food in front of me. Her eyes never leave mine, and like a snake and a mongoose, we are at a standoff, waiting for the first one to strike.
She puts the plate down within my reach and quickly steps back. She continues to back away as I reach down to pick up the plate.
Her left shoelace hangs down the side of her sneaker, and her right foot presses down on the end.
“Careful, your lace!” I call out, probably a little more booming than necessary .
Her eyes widen, and her instincts kick in. She attempts to lift her leg, her shoe remaining in place as her body recoils.
It almost happens in slow motion. I try to reach her, but my chains restrict me.
Her hands are outstretched as she falls back into the shelving unit.
Her ass hits the ground, and her face contorts.
The medicine ball rolls slowly toward the edge.
It teeters along the lip of the metal shelf before finally tipping over the edge, succumbing to gravity.
“Move!”
Olivia tilts her head just in time, but the medicine ball hits her shoulder with such force that the impact pushes her head toward the ground.
Her skull cracks on the concrete floor before she can stretch out her hands to brace for the fall.
Within seconds she lies unconscious, blood pouring out her head like the Trevi goddamn fountain.
“Fuck!” I cry out.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
I shift myself as close as possible. She is still breathing, thank god. The blood fountain coming from her head has quickly slowed into a pulsing trickle.
I had hoped I could keep the damn cable ties on a little longer to remain in her good graces, but needs must.
I put my hands together in a clenched fist prayer position. Pulling my hands sharply away, the cable tie snaps. I rub the red lines around my wrists, discarding the plastic over my shoulder. I am still chained to the wall, but at least I can now reach above my head and move my hands more freely.
I stretch for her calf and drag her limp body toward me as gently as possible. The blood stain smears over the rough concrete floor. It isn’t much, but my stomach still rolls at the thought of her being hurt.
When I can reach her stomach, I pull her body around, rotating her so I can rest her head on my knee and take a better look at the gash on her forehead. The bleeding is lessening.
I pull off the first item of clothing she has brought down for me and scrunch it in my fist. Hopefully, she won’t mind me using it to stem the bleeding.
I press it to her forehead, dabbing up the blood that hasn't dried yet. Her eyebrows crinkle together as her nose scrunches up. Her hand reaches for the wound, and I pull it down to stop her. Her long, slender fingers squeeze mine, and a warmth courses through my body. Her hand feels so small.
Don’t get a fucking boner right now, man. Not the time, and a bit fucking weird, given that the girl’s unconscious with her head in my lap.
Her eyelids start to flutter open. God, she is so pretty. She moans, her body rolling as she tries to wake up. Not helping the dick situation at all.
“What happened?” she groans, her fingers linking with mine.
“Hey, you’re okay. You just hit your head pretty hard, so take it easy,” I whisper, not wanting to scare her.
“Am I in the hospital?”
“Umm . . . no.”
She’s going to panic, in . . . three . . . her eyelids open up, two . . . she realizes her head is in my lap . . . one . . . I give her hand the gentlest of squeezes and—
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
She jumps off me, practically rolling away GI Jane style. Not gonna lie; I don’t hate the image that conjures up, but she stumbles back, hand clutched to her head.
I raise my hands, palms facing her, surrendering immediately.
“How’d you get the cable ties off?”
Ah, shit.
“I couldn’t reach you with them on, so I snapped them off.”
She stares, her eyebrows knitting together like she is trying to calculate the trajectory to the moon, glancing between me, the bloody t-shirt, and the red stain on my pants where her head has been resting.
“You could have killed me,” she says .
No use lying about it. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”