by Sara Schoen
"Clearly not underage enough for you to take hostage."
"You came with me willingly. You should be thankful!"
"How can I be thankful?"
"You're the one that wanted a way out. You didn't want to go back."
"I didn't want to be trapped here either!" I retorted, as a frown creased onto his lips.
"Well, now you have no choice," he said, forcibly getting up from the table, causing the chair to fall roughly onto the floor.
"Where are you going?" I asked, as he reached for a jacket.
"I'm going to get food and clear my head before I try to find Mark and punch him," Damien stated through gritted teeth, as he fought with the door and finally forced it open.
The door slammed shut, the sound reverberated through the house, and left me standing in shock. It took me a few moments to realize that the car had driven off, and I was standing alone in the house. I tried to open the door, but I either wasn’t strong enough to pull it open, or he had locked it from the outside. I walked through the bottom floor, but there wasn’t a loose spot to take the boards off the windows. I was about to give up until my hand hit a hollow spot on the wall in the kitchen. My fingers slipped into one of the edges of the board. There was a small click that echoed through the empty house as I pried the door open. With all the strength I had in me, I was able to move the hidden door far enough for me to squeeze through.
There were a set of stairs that took me into a basement, but I wasn't sure why it was placed out of sight. The walls were concrete and lined with boxes. There was nothing else in the room, just like all the others it had been stripped bare. I saw scuff marks and dried blood covering the floor. There was a partial bloody footprint on the floor that walked toward the stairs. I felt a shiver run up my spine as I asked myself the one question I didn’t want the answer to. What happened here?
I was starting to feel claustrophobic in the small room until I caught sight of sunlight. There was one window—it was small—but I could climb out of it if I forced myself through. I had a chance to escape, and I wasn't going to let it slip away. I propped boxes in front of the window and lifted myself to the window seal. I tried to push open the small window, but it was no use; I couldn’t open the window fully. It got stuck half-way and wouldn’t move any further. I would have to be about six years old to fit through that space.
With a heavy sigh, I closed the window and jumped down. I had to have the house put together again before Damien got home, or he’d know I was trying to escape, and I didn’t want to know if he would follow through on his threat. My lips twitched slightly at the thought, in a way I wanted him to. Who wouldn’t? He had strong features, a handsome face, and a smooth voice that would win over everyone.
He would only have to suggest it, and I would be all over him. Damien was a gentleman, while we were alone, and stunning when I met him. Even now he was mouth-wateringly handsome, but I couldn’t let it get to me. I couldn’t let him get to me, or this would turn into a plan for isolating us alone for as long as possible. I knew it would be hard because I had growing feelings for him, but I could only hope that it was lust and nothing more.
I heard the sound of gravel crunching under tires and panicked. I quickly ran back upstairs. The wooden stairs creaked loudly under my hasty footsteps. There was a loud slam as he tried to force the door open. I shrank back into the couch with each blow to the door until it slammed forcefully into the wall behind it. Damien’s feet stomped around downstairs for a few moments before I heard them travel up toward me. I grabbed a book about a dog off the table in front of me and flipped open to a random page. I read about six lines before Damien ripped the book from my hands and glared down at me.
“What’s wrong?”
Damien’s answer was slamming a newspaper onto the table next to me. He was shaking with anger. I glanced over to see my face plastered onto the front of the paper.
"It looks like you weren't as unwanted as I thought," Damien growled.
"What do you mean?"
"You're being looked for. Too bad they won't find you soon enough," he said as he stalked off down the stairs again.
"Why is that?"
"Because I won't let them. You're mine," he growled again as he leaned into me. I felt my heart go into overdrive as I fought the urge to latch my fingers in his jet black hair and pull his face down to mine. Luckily, he turned on a heel and stormed off before I could give into my body's temptation.
I picked up the paper to see that I was front news, 'Anna Cowles’ daughter kidnapped.' Steve Bennett was listed as a source and then a few rhetorical questions about why Anna Cowles hadn't come out of hiding to locate her daughter. Although, in small print in the lower corner of the page, I could see that my parents had put out a plea to locate me. They may not know that I was kidnapped, but they knew I was missing at least. They would find me, and then I could go home again.
I let out a heavy sigh. Could I get out of this that easily, or would I end up like the other girls? I wish I had listened to my parents; this is exactly what they had been warning me about.
Chapter 7
“You’re mine.” The words echoed in my mind every second of the day. From the moment I woke up to the minute I went to sleep. I wish I could have taken them as a threat, other than the words that made my knees weak. I loved the sound of him calling me his. I wanted to hear it all the time and to feel his strong lips on mine.
I sighed to myself knowing that it couldn’t happen. I had to get out, but a part of me wanted to be with Damien. He was handsome, funny, seductive, and full of excitement. Too bad I couldn’t be with him. He had taken me as a part of Steve’s plan to get out of jail; Damien was tainted by Steve.
I just couldn’t figure out why he was a part of Steve’s plan. What did Damien have to gain? I couldn’t see anything, which means I was missing some information. I sighed heavily again as my hand fell on my father’s journal. Its leather-bound pages had given me insight to my father’s childhood. I finally understood why he lied about his past; he was really lying to himself. It was the only way he could deal with the beatings, the screams of the other girls, and his whole life.
He was kidnapped at the age of ten, but didn’t know until Steve let it slip when he brought a little girl home for my mother. He had believed this was just the life he was born in to, but to learn he was taken from his actual family cut him to pieces. He wrote that the only thing that got him through it was my mother. Even though they fought—literally screaming down each other’s throats from what he wrote—he said he could only think about the time they kissed. He felt sparks, and he knew he had fallen in love with her. He couldn’t understand what was different about her from the other girls. He had been with other girls, one even threw herself at him—needless to say I skipped that part of the journal.
Eventually he understood the only way he could have the love of his life was if they escaped. They had to escape together, along with the new little girl in the family. He didn’t mention the girl too much, only said that she was young with blonde hair and wouldn’t speak. After that he wrote very minimally; he explained they had a plan of escape and hoped it worked. He wrote he wasn’t sure if he would survive the beating Steve was going to give him since Steve had fallen in love with Anna as well. There was just something about her that caused people to fall in love with her; she couldn’t help it.
At the end of the entry, he said that would be the last time he would write. The journal had to be hidden, in case Steve found it; he wanted it to be hard to find so he and Anna could be long gone.
“That’s so sweet. He was only thinking of mom while he was here,” I said silently to myself, as I looked up at the only light upstairs.
My father had accepted his fate of living in his house, but once he knew he had something, or someone, to fight for, he wasn’t going to stay. He must have known this whole place from the inside out; too bad he didn’t tell me any of that in the book. Maybe then I would have known a way to get out
.
He had only made mention of that room I found earlier. He called it a basement, but to me it seemed like more of a cellar. My father said that’s where Steve beat him, so the blood wouldn’t frighten the new girls Steve brought in. Now I knew what happened in that room, but I still wish I didn’t. He did mention it was possible to open the window even wider. He figured out that you could pop the window out of place, but it still wasn’t big enough for him. I paused for a moment as I reread that line. You could open the top part of the window by pulling it toward you; it popped out of place.
Without a second thought I grabbed the backpack Damien had given me and stuffed the extra clothes and the journal into it. I quickly ran down the stairs, knowing that Damien was out of the house and I could make as much noise as needed. I skipped stairs two at a time, hope rising in me. I was going to get out. My father had given me the information I needed, and I was going to get out and find a way home. I thought excitedly about seeing my family and friends again after what felt like years. I was finally going to be free again, I thought, as I pried open the door to the basement.
I raced down the stairs to see the only ray of sunshine I had seen since being brought here. I could feel the smile forming on my face as I found the boxes I used last time and positioned them under the window. I opened the lower half of the window by turning the handles. I was immediately hit with a cold breeze from the outside. I shivered at the sudden chill and tried to force the upper part out. It was stuck from the cold and was freezing to the touch.
I finally forced the top part of the window open, and it let in a huge gust of wind that made me shiver. My smile grew larger as I tossed my bag out of the window.
“Why is it so cold?” I asked myself. I removed my hands from the window momentarily and rubbed them together as I continued to crawl out.
“It’s cold because it’s the middle of November,” Damien’s dark voice said from behind me.
I froze. I couldn’t even turn around to look at him, but I could feel him staring at me. “Is it really?” I asked, as I tried to pull myself fully out of the window but couldn’t; my waist was stuck.
“Yes, in fact, I think it’s almost Thanksgiving. It’s about a week away now,” he said, as his footsteps and voice got closer to me.
“So that makes it about two months since I was taken here,” I said, as my brain tried to wrap around how I had lost so much time. I didn’t think it was more than a week at most. The days were starting to blur together; I wasn’t even able to distinguish days from months anymore.
“Roughly. You came with me at the beginning of September, right before starting your senior year of high school,” his voice was right behind me now.
“Close the window, Audrey, you’ll catch a cold.”
“Right.” I sighed in defeat as I shut the window. Damien helped me off the boxes and moved away from me, the glare deep set in his eyes.
“Now, explain to me what you were trying to do,” he said, as his voice turned dark and threatening.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I asked sarcastically. It may not have been my best choice, but it was my defense against whatever Damien had up his sleeve, and I was going to work with what I had.
“It looked like you were trying to escape, but even you have to know that it’s stupid.”
“I’m not stupid!”
“Then what were you trying to do?” he repeated, as he glared down at me with disdain.
“I was trying to get the air flowing down here. It’s stuffy.”
“How did you even know about this room?”
“Oh, you didn’t? I guess Steve doesn’t really like you then.” I sneered, as I tried to walk around him to make it back upstairs.
“You’re not going anywhere!” he said, grabbing me by the shoulder.
“You can’t keep me wherever you want me to be, Damien. I’m not some toy that you can control!”
“You’ll do as you’re told, Audrey!”
“Oh, because that worked out so well for kids nowadays, right?” I said with a smirk.
“You’re just upset you’ve learned the hard way that your parents were right, and that boyfriend of yours isn’t going to magically come and save you,” Damien sneered, hitting as low as he could go.
“How dare you bring Mark into this!”
“He doesn’t want you. He would be looking for you if he did. You were just some girl to him. He used you as a hook-up and doesn’t care that you’re gone now! So get over it, because I’m the only one you have left!”
“You’re wrong! My parents will come find me!”
“Anna isn’t going to come out of hiding. She changed her name and hid to protect herself and her family, including you. If she comes out and tells everyone that she is Anna Cowles, then she’d be swarmed by reporters again and have to suffer the remembrance of what she went through.”
“At least she is doing something for her family. What about you? I’m pretty sure you don’t have anyone or care about anyone!”
“Shut up, Audrey. You don’t know what you’re talking about!” he screamed. I clearly hit a chord with him.
“You only have Steve, is that it? Is that why you work with him? You’re related somehow!”
“I’m not related to that monster!”
“Judging from your reaction, you are. You’re embarrassed, and now what? You’re trying to help him get out of jail? What is he to you? A brother? An uncle?” I prodded as I watched the anger in Damien’s eyes increase with each word I spoke.
I instantly regretted it as Damien grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me against the wall. It forced me to look at him and took away whatever power I thought I had.
“I’m not related to that man. I don’t know him, I am not his family, and I am not helping him because I want to! I only have a sister, no parents left, no extended family, and as much as I hate hurting girls, if you continue to talk about this, I will slam your head against the wall. You have no idea what you’re talking about; you’re jumping to the wrong conclusions. Now get out of my sight before I do something I’ll regret,” he said, pushing me from the wall and behind him.
“Damien...I’m...”
“Get out of my sight, Audrey! I don’t want to see you again! Get out of here! Go to your room!” he roared, sending me up the stairs in terror. I had clearly hit a button that I didn’t want to hit again.
Chapter 8
I could feel Damien's stare burning a hole into my back. He has been standing at the entranceway to the common room while I was reading a book titled, A Dog's life: The Autobiography of a Stray. When I first picked it up from the table after Damien's first day out of the house, it had layers of dust that made me disgusted to have to hold it, but for some reason I felt a connection to the book.
"You'll have to get used to being here, Audrey," Damien's husky voice growled. I tightened my thighs to control the desires that his voice sent through my system before I responded. We had been fighting for what felt like weeks, but without the natural sunlight and clocks, I didn't know how much time had actually passed. I had spent a whole day in my room just to be away from him; I was transfixed by those photos on the wall. Each of those girls was trapped here, including my mother and my father, and now I was here. I could only hope this wouldn't become a family legacy. That is if I ever got out of here to have children.
"I won't be here long. You saw the paper; people know I'm gone," I said with a smirk on my lips, knowing that I was pushing Damien's buttons.
"That's what you think."
"Damien, can you seriously think they won't check here if they think Steve has a copycat? This will probably be the first place they look."
"I know," he said nonchalantly, but I could hear the smile in his words.
"Then why aren't you worried? You'll be arrested for kidnapping."
"You came with me willingly because you were hoping to have sex again, Audrey. Is that a lie?" he asked, as he took a few steps toward me. I could feel my chest tighteni
ng with anticipation; I bit my lip to stop the urge to reach out and touch him.
"I came with you because I didn't want to go back to my parents," I said strongly, as he stopped behind the couch.
"Then why didn't you run off to that boyfriend of yours?" Damien whispered in my ear, sending shivers up my spine.
"Because we can't legally be dating, remember?" I forced myself to face him to show my lack of emotion. His dark eyes bore into mine as he tried to find something hidden in my gaze.
"I think it's because you liked me better."
"Your ego is huge. For all you know we could have been fighting."
"Fighting after having sex with him at a party, and getting caught by Officer Sparks?" he suggested with such accuracy that I spun in the seat to face him.
It was a big mistake. His face was mere inches away from mine, so close that the slightest motion forward would send us into a kiss. I bit my lip to prevent those thoughts from taking over. I was starting to have strong feelings for Damien, and if they got too strong, I would never leave him.
"How did you know about that?"
"It's amazing the things you tell me when you're drunk, sweetheart,” he said, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. I felt my breath catch in my throat and force swallowed it to hide the urge to kiss him as hard as I could with everything in me.
"I'll be sure not to do it again," I sneered, as I plopped back down onto the sofa and opened my book again.
"Good, because when we make love, I want you to be completely sober," he said as he walked away laughing.
"It won't happen!" I called, as his footsteps retreated down the stairs. "It won't," I restated to reassure myself. I couldn’t let it happen, but it didn’t mean I didn’t want it to happen. Every time he spoke to me or looked into my eyes, I had the overwhelming urge to kiss him.
He was right; I did want him. I had come willingly, but I was being forced to stay. How had my mom made it through this? Of course, I didn’t have to deal with any of the abuse she had, or at least what I knew of the case, but those could just be horror stories told by the news. My parents never discussed it, as if they had never been a part of Steve Bennett’s life. They ignored it so that they could live normal lives afterward. They moved and changed my mom’s name so that they could be safe, and so I could be safe. I sighed heavily as I thought about how rude I had been to my parents when I found out.
