by Brenda Novak
“I calmed down.” She motioned to his pasta. “How is it?”
“Delicious. You hungry?”
She didn’t want to ruin the enjoyment he received from denying her, from proving to himself how much she loved him, so she nodded.
“How hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Stand up.”
Surprised, she jumped to her feet.
“Come over here where I can see you.”
She held her breath as he pulled her close, made her turn around and examined every inch of her. “Is something wrong?” she finally asked.
“You’re getting fat.”
In his vocabulary, fat was worse than ugly. She couldn’t help wincing. “But I—I weigh the same as I did yesterday.”
“Don’t argue with me! Nobody knows your body better than I do.” He eyed the Caesar salad, garlic bread and fettuccine primavera she’d prepared. “This shit has too many calories for you. Get a frozen dinner and nuke it.”
She’d eaten frozen diet dinners so often over the past few years they all tasted like cardboard to her, but he generally praised her if she left food on her plate. At least that would be easy tonight.
By the time she returned, he’d finished his meal. Stretching out, he nursed another glass of wine while watching her eat, and she picked cautiously at her food.
“Very good,” he said. “I like that. Delicate. Feminine. So many women eat like pigs these days.”
When she smiled, he leaned forward. “Take your tits out again.”
She hesitated. “Don’t you want me to shave first?”
“No. I need that stubble or I won’t be able to punish you like I’ve got planned.”
See? He cared about her. She had to make him angry before he could hit her. “I understand, Master.” She took out her breasts, even stroked herself to get him excited. Then she abandoned the rest of her meal so she could do the dishes and satisfy him that much sooner.
He stopped her when she was halfway to the kitchen. “Put that down. I’m ready now.”
But he hated it when she left dirty dishes out. “What about cleaning up?”
“You can do it later.”
So he was eager. That was hopeful. It gave her the courage to say what had to be said. She had to do it before he punished her, so it would all be over at once.
She put the plate she was holding back on the table as he came around to meet her. “I—I have to tell you something first.”
“What is it?”
Her acrylic fingernails curled into her palms. “Um…you know how I said everything went okay today?”
His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Yes?”
“It didn’t go so well.” She could barely force herself to look at him.
“What do you mean it didn’t go so well?”
She dropped to her knees and held up her hands in supplication. “It—it wasn’t my fault, Colin. Please understand. He was alive!”
He grabbed her by the wrist. “You knew he was alive. You called to tell me that.”
“But I didn’t expect…I mean, he’d quit moving. And…and then I opened the trunk and…”
He used his free hand to pinch her nipple, twisting so hard she cried out before she could stop herself.
“And what, Tiffany? What did you do?” he asked, his voice as rough as gravel. “You didn’t let him get away. Tell me you didn’t. I could forgive you anything but that.”
He still had her nipple in a viselike grip. Tears welled up, but she didn’t struggle or cry out again. Experience had taught her that would only make matters worse. “There was nothing that I could do,” she whispered. “He…he sprang out at me and—” She swallowed a yelp as he yanked her forward and bit her on the shoulder.
“And what, you stupid bitch! And what?”
Panting from pain and fear, she struggled to think. “And ran away. He—knocked me down. He was yelling. He—”
“Why didn’t you go after him? You were in the woods, for crying out loud! And there’s no way he could’ve run very far. You saw what I did to him. You helped me.”
Because he’d made her. She’d hated every minute of it. “I couldn’t go after him b-because—” Colin clenched his other hand in her hair and used it to yank her head back, but she kept trying to explain, talking so fast her words ran together. “He was screaming bloody murder. I panicked, Colin. Please, please don’t be angry. I’ll do anything you want. Anything. I said you could have your friends over tomorrow night, didn’t I? If you want, we’ll put on a show for them, do it live.”
He pinched even harder. “You should’ve been prepared. But you weren’t.”
She blinked, trying to see through the blur of tears. “Yes.”
“Yet you just told me everything went fine! I was sitting right across the table from you.”
“I didn’t want to ruin your dinner.” Dizzy from the pain, she closed her eyes. “I knew it would upset you.”
“And lying doesn’t upset me?” Because she expected the blow, she flinched, which infuriated him. “Turn over,” he said and removed his belt.
She knew what was coming, but at least he’d let go of her nipple. Covering her breast in a fleeting moment of relief, she rolled over before he could kick her. She could survive this, she told herself. He spanked her even when he wasn’t angry. He enjoyed it. And she didn’t mind. Except tonight the beating was far more vicious, and he wouldn’t stop. The more he hit her, the more he wanted to hit her.
Bile welled up in her throat, but she choked it back. If she vomited on the carpet, he’d make her lick it up, like he did with Rover.
“You—” whack “—idiot!” He didn’t raise his voice. He knew how to avoid unwanted attention from the neighbors. He was an expert at blending in, appearing calm and normal, no matter what. “Do you—” whack “—want to see me—” whack “—in prison?” Whack, whack. “Is that what you’re after?”
He kept hitting the same place on her back. She wasn’t sure how many blows she could withstand. In desperation, she rolled over, lifting an arm to stop him, but she realized that was a mistake when he threw down the belt and slipped his hands around her neck. “I should kill you! You know that? You don’t deserve me. Look at this place. Look at everything I’ve given you!” He began to squeeze. “You aren’t worthy of it.”
Black spots danced before her eyes, just like the time he’d used Rover’s choke chain on her a few weeks ago. She was about to lose consciousness. She had to tell him about Samantha Duncan. That was the only way to stop this. But she couldn’t breathe.
Although her survival instinct urged her to fight, she forced herself to remain pliant. He wouldn’t really kill her. Once his anger was spent he’d cry and apologize and be as sweet as ever. Tomorrow, he’d be putting salve on her wounds.
At last, he dropped his hands from her neck. But he wasn’t finished. He still had that look on his face. He drew back his fist, but she raised a hand to stop him while gulping for the air to speak. “Wait…don’t hurt me again.” She sucked another breath into her burning lungs. “I—I have a present for you.”
Curiosity made him hesitate, but his eyes were still razor-sharp with cruelty. “What is it? If it’s the promise of your lousy body, I’m tired of it.”
“D-don’t say that. I—I love you.”
“You love me, but you can’t follow simple directions?”
“Rover doesn’t know anything.” Now that she could breathe, she was thinking more clearly. “You—you brought him home in your trunk. He was blindfolded. He doesn’t know who we are or where we live.”
He slugged her anyway, which he was usually careful never to do. She’d have to call in sick tomorrow.
“What do you have for me?” he demanded. “It better be good.”
Dazed from his latest blow, she scrambled to organize her scattered thoughts. What had she been trying to tell him? It was something good, something that would stop all this….
She had Sam. Saman
tha Duncan. That was it!
“You—you know the girl who lives next door?” She dashed a hand across her wet cheeks. “The one you’ve been admiring?”
She had his attention now. She could feel the alertness in his body. He’d always been intrigued by Sam’s mother, probably because Zoe Duncan hardly seemed to notice him. “Yes?”
“I have her locked in Rover’s old room upstairs.”
Releasing her, he staggered to his feet. “You’re kidding.”
“No. And—” she swallowed hard, hoping it would be enough “—she’s all yours, your new pet. I won’t…I won’t complain or…or try to stop you…no matter what you want to do with her.”
“You snatched her?”
She tasted blood at the corner of her mouth. Dabbing at it with her tongue, she nodded.
“What, are you crazy? Our neighbor’s kid?”
Fear paralyzed her. Had she misread his many references to Zoe and how pretty she was, how pretty her daughter, Samantha, would be when she grew up? Would this only make him angrier? “It—it doesn’t matter where she’s from if no one knows she’s here,” she whispered.
Rubbing his chin, he paced to the couch and back. “But now we can’t let her go. Ever.”
“Do you want to let her go?” Tiffany’s whole body hurt—her shoulder, head, back and legs—but she was so afraid of what the next few minutes might bring she could scarcely feel it. “You said it was too much risk. Isn’t that why you’re upset about Rover?”
He didn’t answer. “Did anyone see you?” he asked, his tone tempered with caution.
“No one,” she said. “I swear it.”
Stepping over her, he hurried to the stairs and took them two at a time.
CHAPTER 5
Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall. Sam heard them, knew instinctively they weren’t Tiffany’s. Tiffany wasn’t much bigger than she was.
It had to be Colin. He was finally home.
She tried to feel some relief, some of the hope and confidence that had sustained her all afternoon. He’d get her out of here and have his crazy wife committed. That was what she’d told herself. But the longer she sat in her urine-soaked bikini on the wooden floor of a room that had no windows, the more she began to doubt that the help she’d been counting on would arrive. Why was there a mattress in here? And what was that stain in the middle of it?
Sam hadn’t ventured close; she didn’t really want to know. But avoiding it meant sitting on a hard floor without so much as a blanket or a pillow. And although it had been warm during the day, it was cool in the evenings. Being wet made it worse. She was chilled to the bone.
The bolt slid on the door.
Braced for whatever might happen, she watched Colin open the door and block the empty space with his body.
Taller than Anton, who said he was six feet, Colin had brown eyes and thick, curly dark hair. He had it slicked back and was dressed in a suit. Samantha had often admired him as he came home from work. My neighbor is so hot, she’d once told Marti on the phone. You should see him. I hope I have a husband like him someday…
Are you talking about the guy whose wife has the big boobs?…
That’s the one. They’re like…the perfect couple.
Colin didn’t look so good to her right now, however. He wasn’t smiling, as he usually did when they met out on the street. He remained in the doorway, sizing her up in a manner that made her cringe.
“Can I please go home?” she asked.
“We’ll talk about that later. Get up.”
He spoke softly, but his words were nonetheless a command. Aware of the fear causing her to shake, and the embarrassing stench of urine, Sam rose to her feet.
His gaze immediately shifted to the wet spot she’d left on the floor. “You’re not potty trained?”
He was being mean. Hugging herself, she rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms. “It—it was an accident. I d-didn’t have anywhere to go.”
He pointed to the bowl Tiffany had hit her with earlier. “What do you think that’s for?”
She didn’t answer. It wouldn’t matter what she said. He wanted her to feel bad.
“Can you remember to use it next time?” he asked.
She fought to push words past the lump in her throat. “I don’t want to pee in that. I just want to go home.”
“Sorry, that won’t be possible.”
Sniffing in an attempt to avoid a complete breakdown, she licked her lips and tasted the salt of her own tears even as she struggled to stifle them. “Why not?”
He surprised her with a bright smile. “We need a new pet.”
“P-pet?”
“That’s right.”
“But…” Her tears fell faster. “I’m not an animal.”
“No, you’re better in some ways. You can do more than fetch a stick, play dead and roll over, can’t you?” He grimaced at the wet mark on the floor. “But we do need to get you trained. And just so you can’t say I didn’t warn you, I won’t tolerate this kind of accident in the future. I’ll let it go this time because it’s your first day, but if you do it again, you’ll go without food or water until I decide otherwise.”
Was he serious? Sam gaped at him, wondering if she was having a nightmare. “You can’t keep me here.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“Who?”
“You think you’re my first? You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”
That terrified her more than anything so far. “You don’t understand! I’m sick.”
“You look fine to me. I mean, you’re a little knobby-kneed and flat-chested but you’re what, thirteen?”
She nodded.
“That’s the perfect age.”
“For…”
“Coping. It’s amazing what the human psyche can endure. I find the study of it absolutely enthralling. In a few weeks, you’ll adjust. You’ll probably even start to like it here, to love me as a good pet should.”
That would never happen. “But I have mono. I’m contagious. That’s why I’ve been home from school.”
The glee fled his face. “What did you say?”
“I have no energy, no strength. It’s terrible. If you got it, you wouldn’t be able to work or—or mow your lawn or—”
“I have to work. I belong to a very prestigious law firm. And you don’t think a house like this pays for itself, do you?”
“See? You don’t want to get mono. It lasts a long time.”
“The stupid bitch can’t even get this right,” he muttered.
Sam stepped closer. “You’d better let me go.”
“It’s too late for that,” he snapped and slammed the door as if he feared breathing the same air would be enough to contaminate him.
“Wait!” Sam called after him. She wanted to ask if she could wash up, but she dared not remind him that she was to blame for the mess. “I’m cold. And hungry!”
“You’ll live!” His response drifted back to her, and then he was gone.
Sam couldn’t prevent the sobs that racked her body. She wanted her mom.
No longer concerned about the stain, she threw herself on the mattress. There were worse things than a stain of questionable origin, worse things that mono, worse things than living with a potential stepdad she didn’t like. At least she and Zoe had always had each other, no matter how many times they’d had to relocate, or bail Grandpa out of jail, or go down to the soup kitchen just to stop their stomachs from growling.
Now, even though her mother lived right next door, Samantha had the terrible feeling she’d never see her again.
* * *
Colin was expecting the knock when it came. He knew the neighbor girl couldn’t go missing without a search. The police would canvas the whole area.
“They’re here,” he murmured when Tiffany emerged from the kitchen to stand behind him.
Putting the TV remote on the coffee table, he got up and turned to survey the room. Everything was in order. He’d made hi
s wife get dressed and repair her makeup. Then he’d gone back upstairs to drug his new pet. He’d hired a contractor to do some soundproofing in “the pen,” as he called it. He’d claimed he was planning to buy a drum set and didn’t want the neighbors to be bothered by the noise. But it wasn’t as soundproof as he’d hoped. Fortunately, the sleeping pills he’d given Samantha in a glass of juice must’ve worked because she’d stopped yelling. He hadn’t heard from her in more than thirty minutes.
One day soon, she wouldn’t dare yell at all….
“What if they want to see me?” Tiffany asked as he started for the door.
Her lip was swollen. But accidents happened. It wasn’t as if she’d ever been seen with bumps or bruises, not since he broke her cheekbone with that mug. And she’d had her elective surgeries right after that, so they’d had a good excuse for all the bandages. “Tell them our heads collided.”
The knock came again, and her eyes flicked to the door.
“Now go into the kitchen and finish the dishes,” he said. “Don’t come out unless I call you.”
He waited until the water went on in the sink, then he answered the door. But it wasn’t the police. It was Sam’s mother and the guy she was living with. Which meant the police would be by later. Great…The next few days wouldn’t be easy, but Colin could be patient when he needed to be. All he had to do was lie low.
“Hi, there.” He arranged his expression in a sympathetic frown, feigning surprise at the tear streaks on Zoe Duncan’s lovely face. The physical opposite of Tiffany, she was tall and slender with breasts that were barely a C cup. But they were real; he could tell. He could also tell Zoe had been beautiful her whole life because she was so stuck on herself. He’d tried flirting with her once, but she kept talking about his wife as if he might forget he had one, and he resented it. It wasn’t up to her to remind him of his wedding vows.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You seem…upset.”
Most of the makeup had been wiped from her eyes. “Have you seen my daughter, Samantha?”
He scratched his head. “No. Why?”
“She—” Her voice broke, and the man beside her—Anton Lucassi, if Colin remembered correctly—touched her elbow. Years older than Zoe, than all of them, he pretended to have a lot more class than he really did. Lucassi was basically a pretentious bastard. Colin didn’t like him, either.
