Enchained

by Chris Lange

  I can’t think about that now. I want my mom. I need you, Mommy. Please come get me. I don’t wanna be here.

  Unfortunately, right this minute Mommy was cruising the open seas with Daddy. More to the point, Mommy would never have to deal with such a frightening encounter. She would. Right here, right now, and as an adult. In need of air, lungs hurting from refrained sobs, Jany quit kicking the blameless mattress and breathed. Why had she fled downstairs? Why not go for the front door? Sure it would have been locked but at least, she could have tried. Too late to figure it out.

  I panicked. I ran away like a terrorized kid. He must have heard me, and he’s gonna come down here. Oh, shit!

  Hugging the pillow like a safety blanket, she rolled to her side and stared at the opposite basement wall. Despite the turmoil in her mind, she began to perceive an upside to her desperate situation. Now she knew where she was but more importantly who he was.

  Compared to dazzling, huge cities, Anchor Town could only be classified as a small settlement. About ten thousand strong, people enjoyed living in this charming, peaceful area. A few months ago, their routine had been disrupted by the arrival of a stranger. He had bought a house on the outskirts of town and had settled there alone.

  Keeping pretty much to himself, he was rarely seen in town. Had he been different, people wouldn’t have noticed him, but the provoking scars on his face had instantly set him apart. People averted their eyes in his presence, picked up their phones with an industrious attitude, crossed the street to avoid him, and turned their children’s faces away from the monster.

  Nobody knew where he came from, how long he planned on staying, or what he was doing. Nobody knew his real name, but in Anchor Town, he was known as “Scarface.” Not very clever or imaginative for a nickname, at least from Al Pacino’s fans, yet true to life.

  Searching her memory, Jany remembered seeing him from afar a few times. Just like everyone else, his face struck her as scary and repellent, abruptly urging her to go into the nearest shoe shop whenever their paths crossed. She hadn’t done it though. Instead, she had stared hard at the awesome sidewalk intricate and colorful designs. Not everyone is a hero.

  So here I am, scared out of my wits, and locked in Scarface’s basement. Dear God, I don’t ever want to see that face again.

  As forcefully as she had slumped onto the bed minutes ago, she sat up straight, eyes wide, mouth dry. A single thought striking her brains, she grabbed the pillow and clung to it. Oh boy, I had sex with Scarface. Holy shit, cows, and rabbits, I had the most amazing sex in my whole life with a monster.

  In an ironic kind of way, she felt cheated. By the universe, by destiny, by karma, by whatever the name applied to her condition. She had been dealt a piece of heaven, only to find out rot pitted the scrumptious apple. And she felt utterly played. Dear God, how could you do this to me? Why send this man to me if I can’t look at him without throwing up? It’s not fair.

  Somehow, she believed God had more important and urgent things to do. Like it or lump it, she would have to deal with her misery. Although the day had turned out to be eventful, she waded through despair, frustration, anger, guilt, and inequity. But obviously that wasn’t enough for a single day because the monster came into the basement.

  Jany let loose a silent sigh when she saw the mask on his face. She had no problem looking at the mask. No problem at all. Then she noticed the bundle in his hands. Arms stretched, taking slow steps toward the bed, he carried the package almost like an offering. On second thought, more like the bundle was about to jump down his throat. Moving carefully, he deposited her folded clothes and her sneakers at the foot of the bed.

  My clothes? Is he letting me go or toying with me? Did he spot me upstairs? I’m sure he did. I can identify him now. I can report him to the police. Oh boy, he’s gonna kill me and bury me under a maple tree.

  “I’m sorry for the inconvenience I caused you.” He nodded to the bundle. “I’ve washed and ironed your clothes.”

  Way cool, pal. What do I care? Did you have a little sniffy-jerky before you dumped them in the washing machine?

  “Thanks.”

  Jany was aware silence could be oppressive, but the stuffy atmosphere gluing them down bore a strong resemblance to mortar. Before it solidified into stone, she had to break the silence. And why stroll along the open road when she could run head on into the wall?

  “I saw you in the bathroom.”

  “I know.”

  His voice made her shiver. Despite the painful image his disfigured face carved in her mind, her heart lurched each time he spoke. To her stupefaction, gut reaction stood more powerful than reason.

  “Are you letting me go?”

  Shoulders rigid, he crossed his arms. White mask blank, he looked like a stone statue.

  “I guess that’s a no. Lucky me!” Jany lowered her lids and rubbed the sides of her head before renewing eye contact. “You know what? It’s just as well. Because if you did let me go, I’d tell my boyfriend. Believe me when I say, you’re no match against him.”

  What’s this bragging all about? Come on, Jany. You sound like a brat just out of kindergarten. I’m gonna tell Daddy, na nana nana na, I’m gonna tell Daddy. And Billy? That jackass couldn’t punch a hole into a Japanese house paper wall if it was standing in front of him.

  “His name’s Billy Carter, and he’s not your boyfriend.”

  “How…?” Her mouth felt so dry, she had to swallow hard. “How do you know about Billy?”

  “I know he won’t come for me.” He sounded so sure of himself, so confident. Even if he had it right, the desire to prove him wrong gripped her.

  “If I ask him to, he will. Trust me.”

  “Billy Carter is currently in the intensive care unit of Anchor Town’s hospital. I can assure you he will stay there for a while.”

  The masked man delivered his speech with clear, straight-to-the-point words. No ambiguity there, no partiality, only facts. As much as she would have liked to dispute his allegation, Jany recognized the ring of truth in his voice. In his damn seductive voice.

  “Billy’s in hospital? What happened?”

  “I broke his legs and his left arm.”

  Lower lip dropping, Jany stared at the screened monster. Arms folded, as inflexible as a rock mountain, he reminded her of a block of granite waiting to be carved by a dedicated sculptor.

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s right-handed.”

  The granite block had a sense of humor. True, a little on the wry side, but a sense of humor nonetheless. Too bad she wasn’t in the mood for tongue-in-cheek remarks.

  “You know what I mean. Why on earth would you hurt Billy? He’s done nothing wrong to you.”

  “He wronged you.”

  Is my personal life an open book to this guy? How deep has he pried into my affairs? Okay, Billy isn’t the faithful type, but we never made a commitment, and he can screw the whole cheerleading team for all I care. Even if I cared, the jackass doesn’t deserve such a beating anyway.

  Jany held a hand up. “Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful when I say this is none of your business. Yes, Billy’s been stalking me for some time, but I’ll deal with him my way. All right? My way, not yours.”

  At last, her brief discourse elicited a reaction. He uncrossing his arms to grip the bed frame. Knuckles white, neck stretched toward her, eyes boring into hers, he uttered implacable words.

  “Billy Carter has put out a contract on you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “A contract? What are you talking about?”

  Eyebrows knitted, Jany pushed herself up and went for her clothes. She turned her back on him to get dressed, letting the useless bath towel drop to the floor. As she put her jeans and top on, a nice, floral odor caressed her nose. What kind of softener does he use? As soon as she felt secure in her clothes, she grabbed her sneakers.

  “I need you to trust me.” His voice had taken on a grave tone as he watched her lace her sneake
rs. “Billy Carter has dispatched a hit man to dispose of you.”

  Fully dressed with her shoes on, Jany faced her kidnapper. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You really believe a hammerhead like Billy is capable of devising a cunning plan to kill me? Why would he anyway?” She took a step toward the masked man. “Listen, Billy isn’t the brightest man in the world. Even if he wanted to, he doesn’t have the means to carry out a murder.”

  “Correct.”

  That’s it? This is all I get? No explanation, no clue, no hint. Just “correct,” and I’m supposed to be satisfied?

  Long, itchy seconds ticked by before he came to stand between her and the basement door.

  “Billy Carter made a mistake. Being dumped was hard to take for him, so he hired a man to scare you. That night, Billy left work with a month’s worth of cash in his pockets. Instead of going straight home, he went to the bad kind of bar. He got completely wasted, talked to the wrong person, gave him your name, and paid him to ruffle your feathers. But the hit man misunderstood his gibberish and now you’re his target.”

  Speechless, Jany could only manage to stare at him. Although she didn’t believe a word he said, a lump grew in the pit of her stomach, taking up the space she needed to breathe.

  “Let’s pretend you’re not making up this sordid story. Surely, Billy would have gone back to stop the man.”

  “You know, a professional killer doesn’t wait around to see if his clients might have a change of heart. He’s been paid. He’ll do the job. Besides, Billy isn’t aware of his mistake. His recollection seems to be fuzzy.”

  The stationary lump became heavier, weighing on her stomach like a corrupt organism, dragging her down to a bottomless crevasse. Sniffing for air in the stuffy basement, Jany licked her lips.

  “How come you’re so familiar with Billy’s recollection? Is that why you broke his legs? To torture him? To make him talk?”

  “I didn’t have to. Your brave boyfriend spilled the beans before I laid a finger on him.”

  Contempt flooded the velvety voice. Something else too, some kind of emotion Jany couldn’t quite put her finger on. I’m in the middle of a damn peeing contest. Hey, who’s got the longest? Male ego? Jealousy? Anger? Even so, why would the masked man be hacked off with Billy?

  “If Billy told you everything you wanted to know, why did you beat his brains out?”

  Jany could have sworn he wavered. Had she touched a soft spot? Had she stumbled on a sensitive subject? Bracing herself for another unpleasant silence, her heart sped up when he did answer her question.

  “Because he had earned his punishment. He didn’t treat you with the respect you deserve.”

  Oh boy, I didn’t see that coming. What could have possibly distracted me? Hey, looks like I got myself a guardian angel. What’s next? Dinner and a movie? A ring and a proposal? Please, please, please, let’s not go down that road. My God, I’ve got to get out of here.

  Still barring the way to the door, the masked man looked somewhat less stony than a moment earlier. “Now do you understand why you’re safe here?”

  “I understand you have a vivid imagination. I understand you’re lonely, you’re attracted to me, and it’s much more convenient with Billy out the way. That’s what I understand.”

  He reached out to her. “You’ve got to believe me.” All of a sudden, he sounded both frustrated and pleading. “It’s very dangerous for you outside. Here is the only place I can protect you.”

  “And do me.”

  She could have slapped herself. They were back on safe grounds, and she had ruined the moment in a heartbeat. How could anyone in his right mind be so dumb? She had to muzzle her big mouth if she wanted the monster off her body. Yet she knew it was already too late.

  As she uttered her quirky line, he seemed to be punched in the chest. Exhaling loudly, he stumbled back a step, his gloved hands going to the sides of his legs and balling into fists, his eyes glowing behind the mask.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Jany’s voice trailed off. Adopting the attitude of a sculpture in a history museum, barely breathing, she watched him try to regain control of himself.

  Didn’t I? Honestly?

  Part of her did. The part able to overlook his ravaged face, to sense his deep kindness, to feel his touch. The human part commonly called the heart. His firm grip on her waist as he had pushed his cock into her. His excited grunts when his thrusts had taken her breath away. His quivering hands on her flesh as they had both rocked from the violence of their orgasms. That moment in time had been true. Wish as she might, her heart and soul would always remember.

  Upstairs, a phone rang.

  Gaze clouded, chest rising, the masked man extended an arm in a peremptory “don’t move” gesture. “I’ve got to take that call. I’ll be back in a minute.” Then he strode out of the room.

  The call must be important. For him to leave her so abruptly only meant top priority. He would rush to pick up the phone. He wouldn’t look back. As he hurried upstairs, she took off in his wake, focused on a single notion. This was her chance. Her real chance.

  When she reached the top of the basement stairs, the ringing stopped. The first door on the right stood open. She heard a clicking sound coming from inside the room followed by a firm “Yes.” She didn’t think. She didn’t weigh the pros and cons.

  She darted for the front door.

  Chapter Twelve

  For the first time in the past twenty-four hours, fate recalled Jany’s existence. She had been running along the main street for less than a minute when she spotted a cab coming from the other side of the road. In the still night, its yellow roof lights couldn’t be mistaken.

  As Jany rushed toward the taxi, the driver stamped hard on the brakes. A screeching noise escorting her, she leaped inside and gave her address. Breathless, heart pumping enough blood to sate a vampire, she cast quick, backward glances. Darkness outside. No sign of pursuit. No monster.

  Slumping back on the seat, she took long breaths, waiting for her heartbeat to slow down. She should have been proud of her escape, happy to be free. Instead, the lump in her stomach shifted. Whatever she believed to have achieved, she felt utterly cornered.

  How can this be? I’m free. I’m out of that damn basement and out of his life. Why do I feel trapped? God, I’m in urgent need of a shrink.

  The cab pulled over in front of her small house. Along with her car keys, her handbag must be either in the store’s parking lot, in the back alleyway, or somewhere in the masked man’s house. She had never thought of asking. But her house key was still in her jeans pocket.

  When he had brought her clothes back, the key had been the first thing she had checked. He obviously overlooked that detail when throwing her stuff in the washing machine, and why wouldn’t he? Women always kept their secrets in their handbags. Jany dashed inside, found enough money in her desk drawer, and paid for the ride before the driver grew restless. As the cab disappeared round the corner, she shivered.

  After locking her front door, Jany trampled into the kitchen, her body heavy, her feet unwilling to move. She sank on a chair, elbows on the table, face buried in her hands. Images flashed in her mind. The spotless basement, the hanging chains, the metal rings around her wrists, the gloves on his hands, the white mask, his ravaged face in the bathroom mirror.

  Pushing the chair back, she stood up. She grabbed a mug, filled it with coffee, and stuck it in the microwave. Then she opened the refrigerator and looked inside but didn’t take out anything. The microwave beeped. She sank back down onto the kitchen chair. The television, the shower, the bath towel, the porn movie, the blue dildo, the bed, the gloves on his hands, the white mask, his ravaged face in the bathroom mirror.

  She stood up again. She retrieved the mug from the microwave, then dropped a spoon inside but didn’t pick up the sugar. Then she sat down, stirred the coffee, stared at the wall, and stirred some more.

  Up again. Pulling the chair behind her, she shuffled to the
phone. She sat, picked up the receiver, and dialed her best friend’s number. When the familiar voice greeted her, a long whistling seemed to deplete Jany’s chest. Although thousands of miles away, surrounded by the blinding lights of Sin City, Melissa sounded like an angel watching over her.

  One word at a time, Jany recounted everything. She spoke for over an hour, soothing her tense muscles, relieving her lumpy stomach, decompressing her tightened heart, clearing her fuddled mind. Tears wetting her cheeks, tongue licking dry lips, she talked well into the night. Melissa listened, sympathized, consoled, and concurred. Then she listened again, up to the point where Jany asked for her advice.

  “Let me get this straight, Jany. He cooks like a French chef, he can teach the Clean House team a thing or two, he has a sense of humor, he compiles your favorite songs and books, he gets rid of that freaking goofball ex of yours, he treats you with kindness and respect, he obviously covets your rack, and he’s the best sex you’ve ever had. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “And you’re telling me that you bailed because he played too close to a knife?”

  Jany had to smile. Soothed by Melissa’s melodious voice and always at the ready humor, her fears had gone back to the closet.

  “Well, when you put it that way…”

  “There is no other way, Jany. Your guy may look like a scarred toad, but he’s Prince Charming.”

  “He’s also a mythomaniac. I mean, he made up a crazy story just to get me down into his basement.”

  “So? Come on, girl. Aren’t you sick and tired of the insufferable ‘Do I know you from somewhere?’ At least, your monster is imaginative.”

  Jany had to admit her friend had a point. “Sure, he is. Freaks tend to be pretty creative, you know.”