by Jonas Saul
Could the driver be the fake cop Vivian referred to? It had to be.
Drake said, “Spencer? Sorry for hanging up earlier.”
Whether the fake cop Vivian referred to was Spencer or the driver of the car, attempting to get help from Spencer would reveal which one it was. She had to let things play out to decide who to hurt when the shit went down.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Drake continued. “The Americans chased us out of the CN Tower and now we’re in a cop car heading along the Gardiner—”
The driver slammed on the brakes so hard both of them shot forward into the Plexiglass. Sarah had just enough time to save her face by getting her hands up. Drake only got his right up in time as his left was holding the phone to his ear. Neither had put on seat belts.
“Motherfucker,” Drake shouted.
Sarah’s heart opened a little more for him. My kind of man.
“Throw your phone out the window,” the driver said as he resumed his speed on the highway.
The window on Drake’s side slid down an inch.
“Do it now.”
Drake looked at Sarah and then at his phone. Then he addressed the driver. “Fuck you,” he said. “You gonna buy me a new one, asshole.” Then he put the phone back to his ear. “Spencer? You still there?”
The driver tapped his brakes a couple of more times.
“Do it now or pay a severe price.”
“Hey, asshole. I don’t know who you are, but I’ve been through a tough two weeks. Whether you really are a cop or not, I don’t give a shit about you. What I do care about is my phone. So fuck off.”
Sarah hadn’t met a man in a long time who looked as good as Drake and talked so seductively. He had potential. Maybe there’d be a day when they could spend some quality time together.
But I’d have to trust him. What he did in the CN Tower was fucked.
The car jerked to the right. As fast as they got on the highway, they were exiting. The driver acted like a madman. He plugged his police light in again, the red orb flashing on his dash. At the bottom of the ramp, he turned a hard right and then a left into a gas station parking lot.
It was all they could do to stay seated in the upright position.
The driver stopped the vehicle, got out and ran around the car to Drake’s side.
“Get ready. Here’s our chance,” Sarah said.
Drake turned in his seat and brought his feet up at the door. Sarah braced herself and got ready too.
The door lock clicked and the door opened. Drake thrust with his feet but met empty air.The driver’s head peeked in. He had something in his hand.
She closed her eyes almost instantly at the hissing sound.
Drake shouted. In the confined space of the backseat, his voice sounded deafening.
She couldn’t breathe without taking a little in.
Pepper spray.
She had to keep her eyes closed, but knowing what was happening made her open them a slit.
Drake hacked and coughed. His face was red and his eyes were running.
She tried to open her door, but it was locked from the outside. Drake’s door slammed shut. The driver got back in and drove away from the gas station, his police light turned off now. In moments, they were on the elevated highway again.
She could open her eyes a little more, but she breathed through the collar of her shirt. Drake rubbed his eyes and moaned. His phone was nowhere in sight.
Breathing became more difficult. It looked like Drake was losing his battle.
She banged on the Plexiglass.
“He’s dying back here. We need air or I’m going to die too.”
Or, is that what you want? Fuck, how do I always get myself mixed up with the worst assholes on the planet?
Both windows slid down an inch. In unison, Drake and Sarah put their noses as close to the fresh air as they could. Her nose cleared almost instantly, but she could hear Drake’s breathing still labored. She could only imagine the pain he was going through.
She knew the price of bravado, but sometime there was nothing left in life but standing up for yourself and what you believe in, at all costs.
“Defy me again,” the driver said. “And the price goes up each and every time.”
Fear creeped over her like a cloak.
Who is this guy? Where is he taking us? Oh, Vivian, I’m sorry, I know you warned me, but I need your help here …
Chapter 19
Elmore drove the most direct route north of Toronto to Highway 27 and up to Nobleton. He turned up his driveway and meandered along the winding lane. No one bothered him in his fortified house secluded behind a thick forest.
How much luck could one man have?
Just that morning, he’d decided to remove Jackie from her cage because he knew Sarah Roberts was probably coming back to North America soon. That afternoon she was seen in Toronto, and now she was captive in the backseat of his car. He couldn’t believe it. He’d finally got her. A five-year obsession concluded.
He parked near the front door of his house. No one knew anything about him or where they were. If anyone caught a glimpse of his license plate number, it would never lead the police to him. The plate had been registered to an abandoned wreck parked for a month two blocks from his studio downtown Toronto. Two days ago, the wreck was still there.
He smiled. The time had come. The time was his to control. He had become the master and Sarah Roberts was his slave.
Elmore got out and entered his house, leaving the two prisoners in his vehicle. He walked through the main floor, turning on lights, and went downstairs to set up the basement. After opening both cage doors, he grabbed two pairs of handcuffs, one of his 9mm semi-automatic Mamba pistols and made his way back out to the car.
The back windows were still down the inch he had allowed them for air, but the male looked worse. He needed to flush his eyes and get cleaned up.
Elmore placed the handcuffs at the crack in the window and let them both fall in.
“Place the handcuffs on and I will open the door. Then we will go into the house and discuss what is going to happen here.”
“Yeah, and I’ll do a tap dance and flit around like Peter Pan,” Sarah said. “How’s that? You want to hear anymore fairy tales, dick fuck?”
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation,” Elmore said as he leaned closer to the open window. He grabbed the end of his fake mustache and slowly pulled it off. “You’re mine now. There is no escape.” He pulled his Mamba out and showed it to her. “These little guys run a lot faster than you.” He put the gun back. “I know you’re strong, Sarah. But this part is easy. Put the cuffs on and come on inside so we can discuss what to do next.”
“Fuck you,” she said and raised her middle finger.
Elmore shook his head. “Disappointed in you, Sarah. No one knows where you are. No one can hear you. No one in Toronto knows me. There is nothing you can do that’ll alter your situation in any way. It’s over, Sarah. Put the handcuffs on or stay in the car all night. Your choice.”
She turned away from the window.
Fine. She’ll learn who’s tougher.
Elmore walked back into the house and entered his office. He booted up his computer and leaned back in his chair to wait. Once his news feeds had loaded he scanned them diligently. Below his desk was the cell phone jammer, which he should’ve brought with him so he wouldn’t have had to pull over and spray that guy’s face.
He flicked it on in case Sarah had a cell phone. He never patted anyone down for electronics. Too dangerous when the girls first arrived. His wifi jammer worked perfectly.
He wondered why there was no news about Sarah’s kidnapping or the man she was with. Sarah was a celebrity now. Why wouldn’t the media have something about what happened at the CN Tower?
Maybe it was too soon. He’d keep an eye on it overnight.
Who is that guy with her?
He’d find out soon enough. In the coming days, he�
��d know everything about both of them. He would get to know Sarah on a more intimate level. She’d be a good lay. If she wasn’t compliant, he’d drug her food and do what he wanted with her unconscious form for hours while the male watched from the adjoining cell. He’d prefer Sarah awake. He loved it when he pumped between a woman’s legs while she cried. He couldn’t get an unconscious female to cry, so he’d have to keep her awake for some of their trysts. Maybe he would secure her to the point where she couldn’t move any body part. That would work.
Making Sarah Roberts cry had been a dream of his for almost five years since he’d first heard about her exploits. He couldn’t believe his time had finally come. He now possessed his very own Sarah Roberts.
Elmore opened the desk drawer and withdrew the fingernail container. He uncapped it, grabbed the thickest one and placed it between his front teeth. Then he leaned back and started working on the scab.
This is the life.
He smiled, staring at the collage of images on the wall across the room. “Oh, yeah,” he said out loud. “Sarah Roberts will cry before I’m done with her. We are going to have such good time together, Sarah. You’ll see. You’ll come to enjoy me too. It only takes time, Sarah. I know you’ll grow to love me as I love you.”
Chapter 20
After the fake cop disappeared into the house, Sarah redoubled her efforts on the door. She turned in the seat and laid her back down so she could kick at the glass. Nothing worked.
Drake breathed harder still. Without the aid of fresh air rushing in the windows, he got progressively worse.
Oh Parkman, where are you? I could really use your help here.
She grabbed the door handle and continued her attack.
“It ith no uth,” Drake said. “Here.” He handed her one pair of the cuffs. “I need wather.”
She understood. They were out of options. They had to change their circumstances. It would allow her to find a different way out. Nothing worked stuck in the car.
She gently placed the cuffs onto her bruised wrists, but kept them bound in front of her.
They waited, silently hoping the man came back soon. After what seemed like an hour, the front door of the house opened and the driver started down the front steps to make his way to the car.
Sarah held up her cuffs to show him. He nodded and smiled and looked for Drake’s. He also held them up.
“Okay, good,” the man said. “Now, add one more click so I know they’re secure and not on too loose and then we’ll go inside.”
Sarah clicked hers and Drake clicked his. Every second they were in the driver’s presence Sarah felt anger mixed with fear. He was too cool, too calm. One word resounded in her head: dangerous.
“Okay,” the man said. “Before I open the door, I have to warn you. Any act I deem aggressive toward my person or any attempt to escape will be met with more pepper spray — but I will empty the canister into your nose directly. When I drag you into the house, I will cut your body into as many pieces as I can and then make the other one of you eat the remains. Do not betray me. The stakes have been claimed and the price is too high. Are we clear?”
They both nodded their heads.
The door clicked on Sarah’s side. The man opened it and stepped back, a pistol in his hand.
What was that rant about pepper spray? Now it’s a gun?
He motioned for them to walk ahead of him. The house sprawled before her. There was some kind of patio on the roof but it was too dark to make anything out other than the railing.
She entered first into the house. It was so clean it almost looked sterilized. Off to the right of the main foyer sat large double doors that opened to a huge office. A banker’s desk sat near the window.
“This way,” the man motioned to the left with his gun toward the basement door.
Halfway down Sarah saw the large cages. She slowed her step and turned to see Drake right behind her. The driver raised his weapon and aimed it at her face.
“Keep moving. You’re in the one on the right.”
Sarah ran through her options but came up empty. Even if she grabbed something to throw, she wouldn’t be that effective with her hands cuffed in front of her.
She stepped down to the cement floor and walked up to the cage door. She had to do something. She couldn’t willingly walk into a death chamber. But what? She had no weapon and no way to wield one.
“I know what you’re thinking, but remember the consequences. The price is too high. Continue forward or I’ll shoot you in the leg and leave you alive long enough to do unspeakable things to you.”
Reluctantly, Sarah stepped into the cage, wondering if she would ever see outside the basement again.
The man came up behind her and shut the door, securing it with some kind of electronic lock. There was a small toilet, a clock on the back wall and a cot-sized mattress on the floor. A thin blanket lay spread over the mattress.
Drake entered his cell, equipped with the same interior. The walls were thick concrete all the way up to a concrete ceiling. The wall between the two cells consisted of half bars and half concrete. She could see Drake and his cot, but not the back area where his toilet would be, nor could he see hers.
He’s done this before.
She knew these cages weren’t just erected for her. In that case, could it be possible Vivian had allowed her to be taken so she’d locate this madman and be able to stop him?
He had an expert approach. The cages, the decked-out vehicle with fake ID, and a police siren. The man was a professional. He had nerves of steel to pull off what he did to get them there.
She sized everything up. All the bad guys were the same, they just wore different clothes. It was always a different set of circumstances, but she would prevail. Vivian wouldn’t have let her get trapped this easily. Something good would come her way.
The man stepped away from view and then a moment later came back with three water bottles in his hands. He tossed one through Sarah’s bars and the other two through to Drake.
Drake fumbled around and then grabbed one, tilted his head back and poured it all over his face, using his free hand to rub the water in.
The man stepped to Sarah’s cage and stared at her. His eyes roamed her body. She wanted to reach through the bars and tear them out of their sockets.
“I’ll be back later to talk. I will explain everything soon enough. I’m sure you’ll grow to enjoy your stay with me. Once you know my rules, things’ll become easier.” He stared into her eyes. “Sarah Roberts, you’re my little hostage now.”
He stepped away, ascended the stairs and left the basement, turning off the light as he shut the door.
Chapter 21
Something burned Sarah’s ankle. She rolled over and smacked at it with both hands. Then something hot touched her side by her hip bone. She got up and swatted at it. She idly wondered if she’d been stung by a bee.
Then she remembered where she was. A cage in a madman’s basement. A burned-out match smoldered on the floor. Her tormentor had thrown lit matches at her.
“Wake up,” he said. “It’s five in the morning — time to wake up.”
“You wake me up with fucking matches?”
The man hadn’t uncuffed them yet as he didn’t return last night. A single overhead light cast him in an eerie glow. Sarah could barely see Drake’s feet at the edge of his little mattress. She couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead.
“Don’t worry about him. He’s fine. We need to talk.”
“About what?”
The man slipped a thin box through the bars of her cage’s door and tossed it close to her. Then he leaned down and slid a small piece of something metallic along the floor.
“That’s a nail clipper. No long nails are allowed in my cells. Clip your fingernails and then your toenails. Do not let them touch the floor. Once you’ve collected all of them, hand them to me and slide the clipper back out.”
“Forget it. You aren’t getting shit from me until you tell me
what this is all about.”
The man seemed to consider this for a moment.
“My name is Elmore. I operate an international company that sells used panties. In that box, you’ll find a variety of panties in many colors. Over the course of the next few days, you will wear the panties for at least six hours a day and then place them back in the box after you’ve been photographed wearing them for authentication purposes. That’s what this is all about.”
