by Nikki Chase
There it is. Here we go. She won’t look at me the same way ever again.
“So, Anthony stole my phone yesterday and locked me up here.”
I take a deep breath and exhale. I thought I knew how I was going to deliver the news, but I don’t. Not really.
“And then, Ana came here and didn’t want to let me out!” Alice’s voice gets louder and she speaks more quickly as she gets more excited. “I told her I was locked up here, and she just walked away! I don’t know what is up with them, but something weird is going on.”
I remain quiet, hoping she’ll keep talking. But her story is over.
“Seth, you heard me, right?” She looks at me, expecting some kind of reaction.
“Yeah.”
She grows silent, sensing something amiss in my lack of response.
“What’s going on, Seth?” Alice asks.
“It was me,” I admit.
“What do you mean?” Her eyebrows are furrowed. Confusion is etched into her pretty features.
“I told them to stop you from leaving.” I brace myself for her anger, which would be completely justified.
“What? Why would you do that?” Alice raises her voice.
“I can’t tell you everything, but it’s dangerous out there.”
“What? What does that even mean?” She runs her angry fingers through the tangles of her messy blonde hair. “Is it because I wanted to go to Seattle?”
“You can say that.”
“Jesus, you don’t want me to go, so you lock me up like some kind of a prisoner?” She glares at me, shooting sharp pain straight into my heart. She asks, “Why would you even do that? I was going to come back in one week!”
“That’s one week too long. I told you, it’s dangerous out there for you.”
“We’re…” She narrows her eyes at me. “We’re not talking about… It’s not just because you’re afraid of flying, is it?”
“What? Of course not!” I recoil at the thought of taking away someone’s freedom just because of an irrational fear. I have a valid concern here.
“Then tell me why it’s dangerous out there,” she demands.
“There are people who want to hurt you. That’s all I can say on the subject.”
“What? Who? Who would want to hurt me? I’m nowhere near important enough for that kind of craziness to happen in my life.”
“Just believe me,” I say. I can’t reveal more without putting her in more danger.
“Believe you? Believe you?” The pitch of Alice’s voice gets higher and higher until it almost hurts my ears. “Let me get this straight. You lured me here, promising me ridiculously high pay for an easy, relaxing job. Sure, you’re very particular about your food, and you have a lot of money, but hiring one person just to cook for you alone? You have to admit that’s nuts. I can forgive that, though. Maybe you’re just a weirdo with too much money.”
I meet her eyes, even if the way she glowers at me makes my chest hurt. I deserve this outpouring of anger. It’s my punishment.
“And then, you told me I could go to Seattle to visit my pregnant sister. But the next thing I know, a big, burly man was in my room, going through my stuff, taking away my phone. What the hell?
“Now, you’re telling me you were the one who ordered him to lock me up, and I’m supposed to believe you?”
“What can I say?” I look her in the eye, hoping I can convey the gravity of the situation somehow. “It has to be done. It’s not safe out there for you.”
“You keep saying that, but you don’t tell me why, which means that it’s all bullshit!” Her face grows red with frustration. She takes a few deep breaths and regains her composure. In a calmer voice, she says, “You’re the last person I’d believe.”
“Fair enough.” I inhale deeply, trying to ease the stabbing pain in my chest. I’m only trying to help her, but it’s fine if she wants to attack me for it.
“That’s all you have to say for yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“There’s nothing else you want to tell me?”
“No.” I pause. “I’m just sorry they didn’t give you anything to eat last night. I forgot to tell them to. I thought they would’ve known to send you something. Sorry, I was busy. I made you something as soon as I realized you hadn’t eaten.”
“That’s all you have to apologize for? For not giving me any food? What about for locking me up, huh? For taking away my phone? This is criminal, what you’re doing.” Alice flips open her blanket and gets up on her feet. Her hands get more animated as she speaks. “You’re taking away my freedom, which you have no right to do. And you’re taking away my property, which—guess what?—you also have no right to do!”
“I told you. I’m only trying to keep you safe.”
“Oh, so I’m supposed to thank you now, for giving me food and shelter, so I don’t die?”
“You don’t have to thank me if you don’t want to,” I say, exhausted. I’ve been under too much stress this past twenty-four hours. I haven’t slept at all, and I went into a frenzy when I got home and realized they had practically starved Alice. The pressure in my head is building, causing my temples to throb.
“Hey, if this is how you run things, Seth, I quit!” Alice is yelling by now, her voice loud and shrill.
“You can quit being my personal chef if you want,” I say as I stand up and walk toward the door. “But you’re not leaving.”
“If you think you’re locking me up in here again, you’re wrong!” Alice dashes toward the door and pulls the handle before I can close it.
I let the door swing open. “I was just closing the door in case you wanted to rest. I’m not going to lock you up again. You can go wherever you want within the premises.”
13
Alice
I watch helplessly as Seth walks away, my whole body shaking in anger.
What the hell just happened?
I want to run toward Seth and pummel him until he tells me everything and lets me go. Hell, I’d settle for letting me go at this point. I’d walk away and never look back, but only after reporting him to the authorities.
But I know that’s not going to work. I’m a tough woman, sure. I’ve survived lots of hardship in my life and I’ve struggled to get to where I am in life.
I’m strong, but not in that way. There’s no way I can bring enough physical pain to a big, muscular man like Seth to make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.
And that’s the problem, isn’t it?
He’s way too strong for me to fight, and he’s way too rich for me to have anything to offer in return for my freedom. I… There’s really nothing I can do. I can’t think of anything that can get me out of this situation.
The marble under my bare feet grows warm from my body heat. Seth takes a turn at the end of the long hallway and disappears. The luxurious corridor is now empty, except for me.
Without anyone around me, I can almost imagine that none of this has happened, that the past twenty-four hours of my life didn’t really happen.
When I look back into my room, though, and see the empty bowl from before, I can’t remain in denial.
I’m a prisoner now, a bird with clipped wings, kept in a beautiful gilded cage.
I decide to make the most of whatever freedom I still have. At least I don’t have to stay inside my room anymore. I can roam, within the premises, as Seth said.
My blood boils within me. The adrenaline coursing through my system is trying to convince me it’s a good idea to fight, or to flee, but my rational mind knows neither option is possible.
I need to calm down and come up with some kind of a plan.
Right now, my plan basically consists of: I’m not cooking for Seth. That is all.
Obviously I’m not going to succeed in starving him to death, so that really doesn’t do much beyond satisfying my urge for petty revenge.
Still, if I’m being held here against my will, I need to start thinking of myself as a prisoner, rath
er than as house staff.
So he thinks letting me go on a week-long trip is too much of an inconvenience for him? Well, now he won’t ever taste my cooking again.
Maybe it’s a little arrogant of me to think he’ll miss it, but I think he genuinely likes my cooking, as he has demonstrated through his spaghetti carbonara.
I hate saying this, but the pasta was seriously good. And it was obviously my recipe.
Where the hell did a guy like Seth learn how to cook? The man has people waiting on him hand and foot. People are literally waiting around all day just in case he needs them to doing something for him.
I find it hard to imagine him referring to some recipe online while he works over a stove, wearing an apron over his impeccable business suit.
To be fair, when I was cooking for him, someone else bought the ingredients for me. All I had to do was write down a shopping list and everything would magically appear in the kitchen, already stored and neatly organized.
There was that one time when I asked Anthony to take me into town to buy something specific. But other than that, it’s crazy how every little job is already assigned to someone here.
Come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t that someone was doing the grocery shopping for me. Maybe Seth made it that way so I wouldn’t ever leave the house, except when one of his trusted men, like Anthony, could come with me to keep me in line.
Mystery upon mystery upon mystery. Is there anything Seth does that is just normal and straightforward?
I step outside the mansion and take a deep breath. At least I can still take a stroll in the outdoors, thanks to the massive size of this property.
Funny. When I thought I was free to leave any time, I didn’t really feel like venturing outside. I was content enough to check out the well-stocked library and sit at the balcony, watching the burly men in black walking to and fro on the green grass.
As I pass by one of those men, he nods at me solemnly. I wonder if he just has a serious face, or if he feels sorry for me because I’m trapped here.
Does he know I’m being kept here against my will? Does everyone in the house know?
From the way Ana acted last night, that seems to be the case.
So everyone knows Seth is basically taking me hostage, and they’re not doing anything to stop him. It’s crazy what you can make people do if you just pay them enough money.
Droplets of rainwater cling onto the blades of grass, dripping onto the top part of my feet that aren’t covered by my flats. The soil feels soft under my soles after the light drizzle this afternoon.
I hear footsteps behind me and look over my shoulder to see the man in black from before. He’s following me, I realize.
I don’t know why that surprises me. Perhaps because I was hoping someone would help me get out of here just because that would be the decent thing to do. Alas, everyone I’ve come across so far obeys Seth dutifully—even sweet, innocent-looking Ana.
I guess they get paid just as well as I did. I wonder if I’m ever going to see any of that money he promised me.
I hear the cracking of joints behind me, and turn around to quickly give my shadow a dirty look. That sound has always made me cringe. If he’s going to follow me around, he could at least have the courtesy of staying quiet so I can pretend I’m alone and free.
He’s speaking into a microphone that has been attached to the collar of his black T-shirt, but he keeps his eyes on me. He’s reporting my movements to someone. Seth, perhaps. Or another one of the guards.
So that’s what the guards are for. They’re not here to prevent robbers from getting in. They’re here to keep prisoners from getting out. Much like the borders of North Korea, the gates and fences around this vast property are meant for preventing defection.
At least the dictator here is compassionate enough to not let me die of hunger. He even cooked me some pasta. Food is the least of my worries here, apparently.
A wry chuckle escapes my mouth as I imagine Seth wearing an apron again, the floral pattern and lace clashing with his crisp, formal business suit.
I reach the fountain that I usually watch from the balcony and walk right up to the edge. I don’t know what I expect to see, but it’s not this.
The water is clear enough, and the fountain is obviously well taken care of. But close up, I can see the pipes and the jets, which kind of destroy the magic of the fountain.
I take a seat on the stone edge of the fountain and look toward the mansion, searching for my usual reading spot. Instead, I see Seth on a different balcony.
There’s probably about a hundred yards between us—I can’t be sure as I’ve never been very good as estimating distance—but I can see him looking right at me, and I can see his lips moving.
Is he speaking to himself?
I squint and spot the phone in his hand. That makes sense. The guard probably told Seth about me being here, and he came out to watch me, like I’m some kind of a court jester, here to entertain the king of the castle.
I can’t believe I ever thought he was attractive. God, I even fantasized about him that one night.
I mean, yeah, I can’t deny that he’s hot. But the fact that he’s keeping me prisoner here kind of negates his good looks.
I hold up both my hands and give Seth two middle fingers. I know it’s childish and it wouldn’t accomplish anything. I don’t even know if he can see my fingers from all the way up there.
But what can I say? I need to get back at him in some way, and I can’t really think of one good idea. I’m completely helpless and vulnerable, and I literally have no idea how to get myself out of this predicament.
14
Alice
It has been three days since Seth came to tell me I’m not allowed to leave his property, and I’m losing my mind.
When I was still locked up inside my bedroom, I thought about breaking the glass on the window and climbing out. But I see now that it would’ve been pointless. Even if I could get out, there are guards all over the place.
Besides, Seth lets me roam outside anyway, as long as I stay within the boundaries of the property. The guards always follow me around to make sure I don’t break that rule.
Once outside, it’s a long way from the mansion to the fence. I’d have to run through a big, open space, where the guards can plainly see me. There’s no way for me to make it outside, unless I can run so fast I become an almost-invisible blur, like The Flash.
You know how the song goes? In every life we have some trouble. But when you worry, you make it double.
It’s a silly song, but it’s one that has kept me going through difficult times.
At least for now, there’s nothing I can do to escape, and it doesn’t seem like Seth intends to hurt me. So instead of worrying, I spend my days relaxing, like some high-society lady with nothing to do.
Ana makes a mean iced tea, Seth has an immense collection of books in his library, and the balcony still has great views. I fill my days with all these things.
I’ve also been exploring. One day, I needed to straighten my legs after sitting down and reading for so long, so I took a walk and found another building just behind a line of trees. It looks like a small apartment block. As far as I can tell, that’s where most of the house staff sleep.
I don’t cook anymore. I just eat whatever Ana has prepared. It seems like she’s the one who cooks for everyone, as far as I can tell.
She never uses the big kitchen in the mansion anymore, now that I don’t cook. Instead, she leaves a portion in the kitchen for me at every meal time.
As far as prisons go, I have it pretty good, I guess. I mean, I live better than I ever did outside. Still, the situation is less than ideal. I’d rather be free any day than live in luxury and captivity.
I pick up the glass of sweet iced tea and take another sip. The condensation that has formed on the outside of the glass feels wet and cool on my fingers. I put it back on the table and continue reading, taking care to not stain the pages of the b
ook with my wet fingers.
I let out a deep breath. I was hoping my worries would leave my body with that breath, but I have no such luck.
It depresses me that wetting the pages of a book that belongs to my captor is the most important thing I care about these days.
Relaxing here used to be great, back when I had a lot of free time between preparing the meals. But now that it's all I do anymore, it kind of sucks.
I used to have goals, targets, to-do lists. Now I just sit around all day, being useless.
“Enjoying the view?” A deep baritone comes from behind my chair.
Seth.
It feels like the temperature has dropped by twenty degrees, the way the tips of my fingers and toes are suddenly too cold. Yet, the sun is still shining warm and bright, high in the sky.
I haven’t seen Seth since that night he gave me his spaghetti carbonara in my bedroom.
“What do you want?” I ask wearily.
“Just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” he says as he takes the chair across the table from me. We both sit facing the fountain like old friends.
“Comfort is not the problem,” I reply.
“I know. But again, there’s no other way, Alice. I want you to be safe.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I lower my voice to mimic Seth and say, “You can't leave, Alice. It's dangerous, but I can't say why.”
He chuckles.
“I’m glad you find that funny, because I fail to see the humor in my situation.”
“I guarantee you, my angel, you have it good,” he says.
“Well, good is relative. Since we're talking about me, it's up to me to decide whether it's good. I happen to disagree with the notion that it's good. In fact, it's pretty bad.”
“You’re funny.” He chuckles again.
“I’m not joking, Seth. You need to let me go.” I twist in my chair to face Seth. “I promise you, I won't report this to the cops. I’ll just go back to my old life.”
