Chapter Seven #3
I wonder sometimes if all the goodness in me left when mom and dad died.
Would they be proud of me? I don’t feel very proud of myself right now, but I can’t go back, I have to push forward.
What’s done is done. And the man in my basement is dangerous, unpredictable and a master manipulator.
I feel him softening my resolve. And the worst part is that I’m willfully allowing it.
I need to hold myself accountable for what I’ve done here, and I do.
I just wish there were someone here to take care of me.
To help me out of the situation I’ve put myself in.
I wish I had someone who could understand this pain I feel.
I throw the journal down like it’s burned me.
Despite all the work I’ve done with Alfie, I’m still so selfish.
I can’t see further than my own experience.
Kidnapping is so disgustingly normal for someone like me, I’ve failed to see how emotionally traumatic this is for someone like Olivia.
She was desperate when she abducted me. Desperate enough to face prison for her brother, and I’ve treated her like nothing but a joke.
When really, I could be doing something to bring some fun into her life.
Make it easier so she’s not so burdened.
I turn to the stairs. There is no light on to mark my way, but my feet guide me there, anyway.
With each step, I’m shown a new glimpse into Olivia’s childhood as photos adorn the walls.
Smiling faces, happy memories. There is even one of Danny’s graduation, which could only have been a year ago.
A tug in my chest aches for something I’ve never had, but I'm pleased that she could add to the wall of happiness despite everything she’s been through.
The upstairs is smaller than the downstairs; only four doors come off the hallway.
The open door leads to a bathroom with a small tub and a built-in shower.
My dick twitches at the thought of Olivia soaped up and naked, beckoning me with a come-hither look of want and desire.
I’d trip over my own pants getting to her, I have no doubt.
Two doors are shut, one of which has a “Keep Out” sign taped to the front.
I presume that’s Danny’s childhood bedroom.
The one to the right, and by my calculation, looking to the front of the house, would be the master bedroom.
Something tells me Olivia wouldn’t have taken her parents’ bedroom, so I ignore that and head to the end of the corridor to a door that is almost closed.
The crack of moonlight slips through as the curtains aren’t fully closed.
Slipping into the room, I beg my racing heart to calm the fuck and down and let me enjoy this. If I’m going to do better tomorrow, I’m going to remain selfish tonight.
Holding my breath, I step toward the bed.
She sleeps on her back, one leg straight and the other bent to the side.
Her arms are sprawled up above her head, the thick blankets covering one breast and not much else.
The warmth of the evening has stretched into the night but no doubt, the cold night air would seep in eventually.
It would be reckless of me to step forward to lay the blanket over her. But I’ve been careful for the last few years. I’ve controlled every urge I’ve had. And now, Olivia is almost daring me to do something out of character, just like her.
I crouch beside her and push a lock of hair out of her face.
Her face twitches, and she brings a hand down to flap in front of her as she scrunches her face up.
I freeze, suddenly terrified that I might frighten her, but she quickly relaxes, her mouth opening as she lets out a snore loud enough to wake the dead.
I slap a hand to my mouth and pinch my nose for good measure, holding in a laugh that would be sure to rival the noise she is making.
I pull the blanket up and over her, once I’m sure she is settled.
I could kiss her forehead; I’m close enough. But there would be enough time for that. I have to be patient.
Fuck, I’m good.
Dr. Alfie would be so proud.
◆◆ ◆
“What the hell were you thinking?” I have to hold the phone away from my ear. Dr. Alfie is screaming so loudly. He’s fucking reprimanded me before, but goddamn, the man has a set of lungs on him.
“I tucked her in. What’s wrong with that?”
I mean, yes, okay. I know what’s wrong with it. But honestly, the whole situation is fucked-up. I’m not sure tucking her in and watching her sleep for twenty minutes really calls for this kind of response from one’s therapist. The therapist they are paying.
“You know damn well what’s wrong with it. Austin, you’ve worked really hard to get where you’re at. Now, you’re using your previous skill set to invade someone’s privacy. Someone you have been arguably stalking for two years.”
“Arguably, yes, but it wouldn’t be prosecutable. I looked it up.”
“Austin . . .”
I can practically see him pinching his nose in that resigned way that lets me know I’ve disappointed him. Even from a fucking basement, Dr. Alfie can make me feel a new level of low.
“I know, I know. It won’t happen again.” “I promise” is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to say it. I know I want to go up tonight, but it depends if she forgets to lock the door again.
“Good. Now, did you think about what we discussed yesterday?”
That’s what I like about Alfie. He takes you at your word, despite mine being worth about as much as a used tea bag.
If you say you’ll work on something, he believes you.
Right up until you fuck up, and then he goes over what went wrong.
A little gnaw of guilt starts to build as I fully intend to go back on my word, but I squash it down.
Despite his exasperation, he doesn’t hold grudges.
He moves the fuck on. It is actually really fucking healthy .
“Did you think about what you want to get out of your time in the basement?”
“Yes, I want her to see me as someone she could be with.”
“Okay. And how do you plan to do that?”
“Flirt like crazy, make her see how perfect our chemistry is, how much fun we can have together. She works so hard all the time. She could use some fun in her life. I was thinking I would build the tension a little. She’s already shown me she’s attracted to me and she knows I’m attracted to her.
We just need a little more anticipation and the promise of some fun so she can loosen up a bit.
But just as I’m about to make a move, take a step back and tell her I wouldn’t want her to feel like she was taking advantage of me.
I think the self-sacrifice will show her that I’m serious and that I want her, which will in turn make her want me even more.
She’ll see me as someone who wants something long term. ”
“So, to be clear, you want to manipulate her into sleeping with you?”
“What? No . . . I just need to build the tension.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you need to build the tension? You’re both already in a heightened state. Why do you feel the need to add to it?”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“Think about it. But until then, I have a suggestion.”
My chest feels tight. Have I been playing this all wrong?
After I read her journal last night, I thought she would want someone to bring some fun into her life.
But Alfie is right. I have been trying to manipulate her feelings, even if it’s not for the reasons she thinks—letting me go.
I’ve been doing it to get closer to her, to stay closer to her. But is that so wrong?
“What’s the suggestion?”
“When we first started our sessions, you told me that you want to be a person that is easy to love. ”
“I remember,” I reply cautiously.
“If Olivia was to be loved by anyone else and be happy with them, is this the way you would want them to behave with her?”
She shouldn’t be played or manipulated. Despite my intentions and my long-term plans to be with her, she doesn’t know that.
“Fuck. No, of course not.”
“Good. Otherwise, we’d be having a different conversation.”
“Okay so what do you suggest? I can’t help but flirt with her.”
“Keep flirting, but she needs to see the real you. The one that you’ve grown to be in the last two years.
But you have to look at this from her point of view.
At the moment, she just knows the enforcer.
She thinks you're dangerous and dangerous is not long-term. You want her to see you as a long-term prospect, is that correct?”
“Fuck yes.”
“Okay. So let’s work on that.”
“What do I need to do?”
“I think this is going to be hard for you, but you should be yourself. You’re funny, you’re charismatic, lean into that. She’ll be able to let her guard down with someone who’s approachable and she enjoys spending time with.”
“Okay, I can do that. But you know that what you're suggesting is insane, right?”
“It’s unorthodox, I'll admit,” he says in his unrelenting professional tone.
I’ll take doc’s advice, but I’ll be adding my own flair for sure.
“And Austin, remember that you’ve worked incredibly hard to become the man you are today. You deserve good things to happen to you, too.”
“Thanks, doc. I gotta go. I’ll call you in a few days.”
“Bye, Austin. ”
We hang up, and a renewed sense of purpose fills every corner of my chest. All I have to do is wait for her to come down those stairs.