by Nikki Chase
I want Alice even more, now that I’ve already had her. I can't get enough of her.
Her stay here was mostly about duty and obligation at first, but now, it's about my all-consuming desire to possess her. Now, I want to keep Alice, even in the unlikely event that all threat to her could be eliminated.
I realize I can’t let her leave now, no matter what.
Alice
I knock on Seth’s door. Unlike the last time, there’s no hesitation or anxiety; all my other emotions have been eclipsed by anger.
How dare he steal my whole life, take away all the years I still have in front of me? Who does that?
I wait for, like, twenty seconds and still get no reply from inside. Instead, all I hear is the low murmur of male conversation.
With impatience, I turn the handle and push the door open. Inside, Seth is sitting in his usual swivel chair, facing me, and Raphael is across the desk from him. Both of them stare at me with eyes wide and jaws slack, not expecting the intrusion.
Well, they can get used to all kinds of intrusions from me.
Or…wait. Actually, no. They shouldn’t get used to more intrusions from me, because I’ll be gone soon. Goodbye, boys.
“I didn’t see you at lunch.” I look straight into Seth’s blue eyes as I march across the office.
“I thought you needed space,” he says, looking like he doesn’t understand why I’m so worked up.
Of course I’m all worked up, asshole, you gave me a life sentence, when I’ve committed no crime.
“I have something I want to discuss with you.” I put my hands on top of the glass surface of the desk. It feels cool and hard under my fingers.
“Do you… Like, do you need some privacy, guys?” Raphael asks as he strains his neck to look up at me, flicking his gaze between the two of us.
I ignore him, focusing all my anger at Seth.
“Guys? It’s a little awkward here for me,” Raphael whines.
“Shut up,” Seth barks.
“Okay,” Raphael says. “I actually prefer to stay and watch anyway.”
“What is it that you want to discuss, Alice?” Seth asks, ignoring his friend.
“I’m here to get my phone. You agreed to give it back to me yesterday.”
Without saying a word, Seth pulls a drawer open and takes out my phone. It looks smaller than I remember, unfamiliar after not seeing it for only a few days.
I take it from Seth’s hand before he changes his mind. My hand comes into contact with his, and the light graze sends my nerve endings wild. My body remembers his exhilarating touch and it wants more, but I’m not listening to it. Not anymore.
I’m on a mission here.
“And I need to go shop for ingredients,” I say.
“Anthony can do all the shopping for you.”
“No, he can’t,” I insist. “Do you think he pays attention to what kind of cream I want, or what percent I want the milk to be, or what substitutes to get if I can’t get the exact ingredients I want?”
“I’m guessing not,” Seth says with a sigh.
“You’re guessing right. I want to go buy the groceries myself.”
“Fine. We can go in a few minutes, as soon as I’m done here with Raphael.”
“No.”
Seth frowns, not expecting my answer after he has agreed to my request.
“I’m not going with you,” I say. “I told you, I need some space from you, after what you told me yesterday. I still do.”
“Okay, Raphael can take you after we’re done,” Seth says.
Raphael chuckles, until he realizes Seth meant it. He pauses. “Wait, are you serious?”
“Yeah. There’s one that’s just around the corner. Just wait until she gets whatever she needs and drive her back here,” Seth says. Shifting his gaze to me, he says, “It won’t take too long.”
“It won’t take too long,” I agree.
“Okay. I don’t mind,” Raphael says with a shrug. Looking up at me, he says, “Don’t get offended. I like spending time with you, Alice. I just thought my friend here was keeping you under lock and key.”
Seth glares at Raphael.
“I’ll wait outside until you’re done,” I say to Raphael before I turn on my heels and stride out of Seth’s office.
Once the door closes behind me, I stop to drag air into my constricted lungs. I realize I was holding my breath because of the tense atmosphere.
But at least I got what I need: a ride into town.
The first part of my plan worked.
Next: escape.
“So, is this your first time getting out of the house?” Raphael asks casually, as if he’s just asking me about a vacation or something else equally benign and fun.
“Yeah,” I reply.
I look back at Seth’s mansion. It looks so small now that we’ve reached the tall iron gate at the end of the driveway. It looks like one of those expensive doll houses, with the elegant design and intricate details—like the kind I always wanted when I was a little girl and never got.
I’ve never even had the fake miniature version, so I never thought I’d ever get to live in a house like that. But I do live in a house like that now—I mean, I did—and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
It was like having my wish fulfilled by the Genie from Aladdin. Sure, I get to live in a nice, big house, but under fucked-up circumstances. And, oh, by the way, I also can never leave again. Congratulations, me.
Just like Seth, that house is gorgeous and so much better than I can imagine. Yet, in other ways, it’s also much worse than I can imagine. It feels more like a prison than a home.
It’s such a waste. I enjoyed my first week here a lot. I could’ve been happy living here, if I was really hired as a personal chef. But instead, I was kidnapped and placed in Seth’s own version of a witness protection program.
“How are you holding up, Alice? Seth told me it has been rough on you lately.” Raphael seems intent on making conversation.
“Yeah, you can say that again,” I say curtly.
I enjoyed the tour and the little chat we had on my first night at the mansion, but now that I know the sinister truth, it’s hard for me to be friendly with him. He knew Seth was going to imprison me, and he didn’t say anything.
“He’s not a bad person, you know. He’s just…an acquired taste.” Raphael looks at me and raises his eyebrows, evidently proud of having thought up a food-related analogy.
“Keep your eyes on the road.” Despite the strange situation we find ourselves in, I smile. I can still appreciate a good attempt at humor.
I know Seth is not a bad person. He means well, but then the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
“He’s all broken up about it, too. I’ve never seen him so agitated before, not even right after he saw a guy get shot.”
“Oh, you mean his friend, who was with him at the drug bust?” I’m a little surprised to hear Raphael also knows the story.
To be honest, I’ve been doubting everything Seth has told me, including the stories about his past. Anything that comes out of his mouth, I assume to be a lie. If he can lie to me about my own fate, he must be capable of lying about other things, too, so how can I trust him?
Raphael pauses before he says, “Yeah, that one.”
“Why does he do it, then, if it bothers him so much? Why does he keep me here against my will?”
“Like I said before, he has no other choice.” Raphael turns the wheel as we take a left into a two-lane road. Squat little buildings line both sides of the street, many of them restaurants and retail stores.
“I’m just a stranger. He could've left me alone to fend for myself.” I keep my eyes peeled open, searching for a police station, or at least somewhere I can get help.
“Ah, you don't know him as well as I do,” Raphael says. “He has this sense of responsibility, which is quite admirable, really. He feels responsible for dragging you into this, so he wouldn't just leave you on your own. T
hat's just not in his character.”
“Dragging me into this?” I ask, frowning. What does he mean by that?
“Ah, never mind,” he says as he pulls up in front of a big grocery store. “We’re here.”
We get out of the car and enter the store. Maybe I can ask for help from someone in here.
First, though, I need to get away from Raphael. It's a tough task. He stays right beside me as I explore the aisles, like my own shadow.
Luckily for me, there is something I want him to clarify before I say goodbye to this life once and for all.
“So, what you said in the car… What do you mean about Seth dragging me into this?” I ask Raphael as we enter the pasta aisle.
His face, previously bored and disinterested, takes on a panicked quality. He blinks rapidly. “Did I say that?”
“Yes.” I glance at him as I stoop down, pretending to be interested in the packages of spaghetti, fusilli, and macaroni. After seeing Raphael’s reaction, I’m more convinced than ever that I’ve struck a sensitive point.
“You must’ve misunderstood,” he says.
I stand up and step closer to Raphael. I’m tall for a woman, but Raphael is a big man and he has quite a few inches on me.
I look up and stare straight into his eyes. I put on my stern voice, the one I liked to use in my kitchen when I wanted my orders followed. “You said, and I quote, ‘he feels responsible for dragging me into this.’ I know I heard it, clear as day. Now, what did you mean by that?”
Raphael takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I did say that. But I’ve already said too much. You’re going to have to ask Seth, okay?”
“No, not okay. Are you saying that the reason I’m in danger in the first place is because of Seth?”
“I’m not saying that, and I’m not saying anything.” Raphael presses his thumb and index finger together, and slide them over his lips from one corner to the other like he’s zipping them up.
I roll my eyes. I don’t have time for his cute act.
I have an escape to plot.
I stomp down the aisle. Raphael follows a few steps behind me, giving me a little more distance than he did, probably out of fear of being interrogated again.
I look around the grocery store, trying to find people, but there’s only the one guy at rows of check-out counters, and another guy hidden in one of the aisles. I saw that guy earlier, but he has disappeared again. How am I supposed to ask for help when there’s no one around?
“Is there a more traditional market? I can’t find what I need,” I say. “A farmer’s market, maybe?”
A market with many different small stalls would give me more opportunities to interact with people. I could disappear in the crowd and ask someone to help me run away.
Maybe I could even spot a police station on the way there. Failing that, even if I have to go back to the mansion, at least I have my phone now, and I can make a call as soon as I have some time alone.
Alice
The old farmer points at a crate on the ground, which contains the biggest, heaviest melons I could find in his stall.
Raphael groans and gives me a look. “Really? All those melons? What are you making?”
I shrug. Of course there are no recipes that require that many melons, especially when I’m only cooking for two, but Raphael doesn’t know that.
A crate full of melons just seems like the perfect thing to occupy Raphael for a few minutes while I run away.
And I actually saw a police station just around the corner from the parking lot where the farmers’ market is set up.
Looks like my luck has turned at last.
“I shouldn’t have agreed to take you here. Women and shopping. I should’ve known it was going to take forever,” Raphael grumbles.
“Look, the sooner you put the crate in the car, the sooner we’re done shopping.”
And the sooner I can start running, I think to myself.
As if I’d stay in Seth’s house, after Raphael inadvertently told me the truth about how I got into trouble in the first place.
I was already planning to escape just because of the principle of it. No one’s keeping me anywhere without my consent, not even if I’d be living in luxury. Even when I still had the tracker around my ankle, I fantasized about running away. I thought I just had to reach the cops before Seth found me.
And now, knowing that Seth was the one who got me into this danger in the first place? It just makes everything seem false. The things he has done so far in the name of protecting me, they all seem so meaningless now.
He’s not doing me any favors. He’s just minimizing the damage that he caused himself.
I have no idea what kind of danger I’m in and why. All I know is Seth is the one responsible, and I’m sure he’s not the only one who can keep me safe. Wealthy as he is, I’m sure Seth is not as powerful as, say, the cops.
“This is the last time I’m taking you shopping. Seth can do it himself next time,” Raphael says.
Despite his protests, he bends his knees and picks up the crate with his powerful hands. He holds it close to his body as he walks toward the car.
Great. Everything is going according to my plan. Next, he has to put the crate back on the ground, get his car key to open the trunk of his black SUV, actually pull the door open, and load the crate inside.
It should give me enough time to disappear in the crowd.
Now!
I take one last glance at Raphael, who’s distracted by the crate of melons, and walk briskly into the crowd. I quicken my pace, faster and faster, until I’m running at my full speed.
I’m not a very athletic person. All I do to keep in shape is watch what I eat, which is easy to do as a chef. I know I’m going to run out of breath very soon. Within minutes, I’d be hunched over with my hands on my knees, gasping and wheezing.
I should really take up running as an exercise. It could come in handy, although I don’t know if I’ll ever find myself in another situation where I have to escape a mansion where a megalomaniacal man wants to keep me locked up for the rest of my life.
Luckily, we’re really close to the police station. I’d be gasping and wheezing there, at least, where it’s safe.
“Hey!” Raphael’s voice booms from behind me.
Instinctively, I turn around and look over my shoulder, only to see what I already know is behind me. Raphael is pushing the crowd apart, trying to get to me.
If he manages to catch up before I reach my destination, I’m screwed.
Unfortunately for Raphael, his big body is a disadvantage here. With my slimmer build, I can easily weave in and out of the crowd.
I climb up the steps leading into the police station, the muscles in my legs screaming in fatigue. I don’t care, though. I’m almost at the finish line.
I pull open the door and careen into the counter. My legs are so tired I could just collapse into a heap on the floor. I consider doing that, seeing as I’m already safe here, but I push on.
The only officer manning the counter is a man in his late thirties. He’s helping an old lady fill out a form, pointing at the paper and reading out what it says.
“Help!” I exclaim between gasps. “Please! I need help.”
The police officer turns toward me and slides over on his swivel chair until he’s sitting right in front of me. “How can I help you, Miss?”
“I was kid—”
“Alice!” Raphael’s voice comes from behind me, where the door is. “Finally!”
I twist to look at him. I can’t believe my eyes. He seriously followed me all the way into the police station? Is he crazy?
“Yo, Rafe!” The cop in front of me raises his hand to greet Raphael. “Long time no see!”
What the hell?
“Yeah, man. Good to see you,” Raphael greets him back. He doesn’t look like he has just exerted himself. Obviously, he’s in a better shape than I am. He says, “I see you’ve just met my cousin, Alice. Sh
e got lost at the farmers’ market.”
His cousin? His damn cousin? Do we even look alike?
The officer looks at me and gives me a smile. “Ah, another crime solved. All in a day’s work, folks.”
“It’s nice being a cop in a small town, huh, Max?” Raphael grins.
“It’s the best, Rafe,” he says. “You should try it.”
Wait a minute. What the hell is happening here?
“No, wait, Officer, I’m here to report a crime.” I point at Raphael. “He’s not my cousin. Look at us.” I point at Raphael, and then at myself. “No resemblance at all. I got kidnapped and held against my will by a man named Seth Wayne.”
“I’m sorry, she’s a little dramatic,” Raphael says, rolling his eyes. “You know how dangerous it is around here for Seth and the people who live in his house. Alice here,” he says as he puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close, “is from out of town and doesn’t understand why she couldn’t just walk around on her own here.”
“I see.” The cop nods as he listens to Raphael’s explanation.
“No, you don’t see,” I protest. I try to wiggle away from Raphael, but he’s too strong. “I was locked up in my room, my phone was taken away so I couldn’t communicate with anyone, and I wasn’t allowed to ever leave the premises.”
Raphael gives the cop a look. “As you can see, she’s holding her phone in her hand, and she’s walking around town, visiting the farmers’ market.” He turns to look at me and says, in an admonishing tone, “I told you things are different in this town. You need to be more careful.”
The cop nods along with Raphael and says, “Yes, especially if you’re Seth’s guest.”
I want to pull my hair out in frustration. Why isn’t the cop listening to me?
“It’s just a misunderstanding,” Raphael says.
His cop buddy nods.
“Excuse me,” says the old lady with the paper form. “What does it say on this line here? I knew I should’ve brought my reading glasses with me.”
The cop gives us a grin. He says, “Duty calls,” and glides back toward the lady.
