by R. Linda
“I couldn’t leave my father. Ray.”
“But he abducted you?”
“I know. But he was still my father. And I loved him, regardless.”
“Hmmm.” Knowles rubbed a hand over his chin and stood up to make his way to the door.
He turned back to look at me. “So why did you kill him?”
“I had to. There was no other way. If I ran, he’d have only found a way to continue kidnapping and killing women. If I stayed and he woke, he’d have killed me for knocking him out and letting Kat and Lucy escape and then he would have found a way to continue, only he probably would have abducted another child to replace me.”
Knowles didn’t say any more. He left.
Lucy
IMPOSSIBLE. KNOWLES WAS wrong. Stockholm Syndrome was something that developed after years of abuse, wasn’t it? It happened because a prisoner was broken down to nothing but a shell of the person they were before. Because they had no one left in their life except for the one who held all the power, the one who was in control of their life, their freedom, right? So that meant I couldn’t be suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, because it was Ray who had the power, the control over our lives and our freedom. He manipulated and forced all of us to do what he wanted. If I was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome I’d have feelings for Ray, romantic feelings for him, not the intense hatred for him that was burning inside me.
I wasn’t delusional. I didn’t have Stockholm Syndrome. The feelings between Hendrix and I were real. They had to be. I couldn’t have made them up. I couldn’t have imagined them. And I knew I wasn’t pretending. I couldn’t explain why I felt the way I did. Hendrix was the reason I was locked in Ray’s house, but it didn’t change the way I felt. I felt it before I was ever taken to that place. In those first few weeks of flirting and nightly conversations with Hendrix, there was just something about him that drew me in, and that helped me to trust him in the house. So, no. I definitely wasn’t crazy.
The door opened once more, and a woman walked in with a brown paper bag and a takeaway cup in her hand. Almost immediately the bitter, rich smell of coffee hit me, and I sighed. Coffee. Just what I needed. She smiled tentatively at me and approached the table slowly.
“I’m Rachel. I help out with…” She paused as if she was trying to think of the right word. “Well, clerical duties, I guess.”
I stared at her.
“Thought you might be hungry.” She placed the bag in front of me and handed me the coffee.
I was so grateful I could have hugged her, but I didn’t. I reached into the bag and pulled out the salad sandwich. Nothing fancy but it was best meal I think I’d ever eaten. And the coffee. The coffee was heaven in a cup. Hot and bitter and perfect.
Rachel sat in the room, quietly watching me as I devoured everything in front of me. It felt as though I hadn’t eaten in days. My stomach grumbled in appreciation as I took the last bite.
“Thank you,” I muttered quietly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“You’re welcome. Is there–” She was interrupted when there was a knock at the door. Since when did anyone in this place knock? So many people came in and out of this room, and I had no clue who half of them were anyway, so I wasn’t surprised when a new face poked around the door and smiled.
“Lucy?” he asked and slowly stepped into the room. His navy blue pants and shirt with patches on the sleeves and chest gave him away immediately.
“I’m Dean.” He smiled and reached out his hand for me to shake. At least he wasn’t patronising me or looking at me as though I’d lost my mind, like everyone else in this building. “Come to see how you’re feeling. And get you out of here.”
I was up and out of my seat quicker than he could finish his sentence. He’d said the magic words. I didn’t care where he was taking me, though I figured it’d be the hospital since he was a paramedic, but I didn’t really care, it was out of here.
“I’m fine, thanks. Can we get going now?” I asked eagerly. If I wasn’t under guard at the police station, maybe I’d have the chance to slip out of the hospital and find my way back to Hendrix. I didn’t trust those useless officers to rescue him. They seemed more worried about getting stories straight.
“Wow, you’re keen? Most people in your situation want to avoid the hospital as much as possible.” He chuckled and opened the door for me, allowing me to walk through first.
“Well, if you’re getting me away from here, I’m more than happy to leave.” I swayed slightly on the spot, no doubt from lack of sleep and nutrition, but Dean steadied me with a hand on my elbow.
“Let’s get you checked out so you can go home to some sort of normalcy.” He smiled and held on to me as we walked out. I half expected someone to call us back or stop us from leaving but the path was clear all the way through the front doors and into the back of the ambulance.
“Is Kat coming too?” I asked, glancing around and not seeing her anywhere.
“Ahhh…” Dean rubbed his hand over his short brown hair, making it spike up more than before and looked behind him. “Think she’s already on her way. We had two vehicles. I’m sure you’ll see her soon.” He smiled and climbed in the back with me.
The ride to the hospital took about thirty minutes as the nearest one was in the next town. I spent it laying on a stretcher, my muscles relaxing instantly, making me want to fall asleep. But, Dean was poking and probing and running all sorts of examinations on me. He listened to my chest and heartbeat, took my temperature, checked my oxygen and blood pressure. It was endless, but I knew it was only the beginning. The doctors in the hospital would surely want to run numerous tests on me.
He made small talk and only asked important questions if he needed. It was almost like he was avoiding the topic of my abduction and for that, I was grateful.
The ambulance pulled up into the emergency department and I was wheeled in on the stretcher. I could have walked but I was so exhausted I didn’t think my legs would hold my body up much longer. And he insisted I stay on the bed anyway. The bright white fluorescent lights overhead were blinding, and the waiting room was swarming with sick and injured patients waiting to be seen. Dean said goodbye and left me with a couple of male orderlies. I was taken straight to a private room, a nurse following close behind with a stack of forms that they needed filled in. Anna, she told me her name was. She seemed friendly. I didn’t think she was going to harass me. She helped me get comfortable and grabbed me a glass of water, promising to return in a few minutes to fill in the paperwork and ask a few questions. It was only minutes after I was situated on the ward bed that officer Knowles appeared in the doorway.
“You again?” I glared at him. Didn’t they have enough information already? I’d been questioned all night, but not even a hospital stay could keep them away for long.
“Just checking in to see how you’re doing?”
“Fine.”
“And I have—”
“More questions?” I interrupted, knowing exactly why he was there. To repeat everything we’d spent the last twelve or so hours going over.
“Is there anything else you can remember? Anything you’ve forgotten to tell us?”
“You mean other than I was kidnapped against my will, held in a sound-proofed basement, forced to dress like a fifties house wife and obey the master of the house or would get beaten if I didn’t?” I snapped at him.
Knowles opened his mouth to ask something, but I cut him off again. “Or how about the fact that the man who orchestrated this whole thing has killed more than twenty women over the years in his search for the perfect wife. And then the perfect daughter-in-law. Would you like a detailed description of my wedding? Or would you like to know more about the way Hendrix threw himself in the line of fire time and time again to protect myself and Kat? And how he risked everything for us to escape?” I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, feeling the prickle of a headache flare up behind my eyes.
“I know this is hard, but…”
<
br /> “You don’t know anything! I have lived through hell for the past few months. I’ve told you everything I know. And I’m sure Kat has told you the same thing. Now, how about you answer my questions?”
Knowles looked like he was considering what I had said as he pulled up the chair beside my bed. “Sure. If I can.”
“Where is Kat? Is she okay? Have you gone to the house yet? What’s going to happen to Hendrix? And have you called my parents?” I asked. Surely my parents would like to know that I was okay. It would be great publicity for my father. Abducted daughter of State Senator escapes captor. I could see the headlines.
Nurse Anna walked in right then.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave,” she said to Knowles without so much as a glance at him as she came around to my side and placed the clipboard on the bedside table.
“I just have—”
“A few questions. I know. But now is not the time. Lucy needs her rest and I need to run some tests. She’s been through more than enough already. You can come back tomorrow when she’s had a sleep and some food.” Anna stared at him.
“But—”
“Out. Or I’ll have security escort you.”
“Ma’am, I’m an officer of the law. Security—”
“And I’m a nurse trying to do my job. And right now, that is tending to Lucy. My patient. Not your witness. Now leave.” She grit her teeth and pointed out the door. Knowles rose slowly to his feet, his cheeks tinged slightly pink from embarrassment, and walked out of the room, promising to return tomorrow. “I really hate the police department sometimes. There’s a time and place for everything.” Anna turned back and smiled softly at me.
“Thank you,” I said, happy to not have Knowles breathing down my back at least for a few hours.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Anna grabbed her clipboard and winced at me. “This isn’t going to be pleasant, but it has to be done, considering the circumstances.”
Lucy
I HATED HOSPITALS. So much. I’d take Ray’s dingy basement back in a second if it meant I never had to return to hospital for another test. Anna was right when she said it wasn’t going to be pleasant. It wasn’t. It was torture. Hell. Blood test after blood test. Shoving pills down my throat. I had an IV to get fluids back into my body. I looked like a pin cushion. And the tests. They were so invasive and embarrassing and no matter how much I protested and told them I didn’t need a rape kit or any tests of that kind, my arguments fell on deaf ears. I was uncomfortable and humiliated at everything they put me through. But it was over for now. All my tests came back fine, I was just lacking vitamin D from no sun exposure and a little dehydrated.
Nurse Anna had told me they wanted to keep me in for a few days for observation, just in case, and that someone would be coming to speak with me at some point. She didn’t say who, but I knew straight away. A psychologist. It was only natural after a traumatic experience. But I didn’t need one. I just needed answers. I needed to know that Hendrix was safe, that the police did their jobs properly and got him out of that house before he ended up at the bottom of the lake. I needed to know that Ray had been arrested and would never again be able to hurt any other women.
The only good thing that came out of being in the hospital, was having a nice, long, hot shower, without the fear of Ray watching through the cameras in the bathroom, and a whole night’s sleep, though it was plagued by nightmares of Ray and Hendrix. I couldn’t sleep in the dark, I needed to leave a light on; the shadows looked too much like Ray lurking in the corner of the room.
“Have my parents been notified?” I asked Anna when she returned the following morning for her shift. I would have thought that they would have contacted me by now. Made the three-hour drive out here to see their only daughter was safe and relatively unharmed.
“I believe so, yes. I’m sorry, honey, I wish I could tell you more. Would you like me to ring them?”
“No, it’s fine.” If they couldn’t make the time to come and see me or even call, then I wasn’t going to bother either.
Things hadn’t been great between us for a long time. Ever since I told them I wanted to go to nursing school instead of following in either of their footsteps. Dad wanted me to go into politics and change the world. It was fine for him. But it wasn’t me. Unless I could solve famine and end war, politics wasn’t something I could ever get involved in. The entire system was corrupt in my opinion. And my mother wanted me to be like her. She was…for lack of a better description just ‘a housewife’. The kind you see on television, with too much money and not enough sense. She spent her days socialising at the golf club, having lunch and wine with other ‘elite’ friends, and fronted a few charities, all for appearances’ sake. She was great publicity for my father but a real bitch. She looked down her nose at anyone she believed was beneath her. And then there was me. I worked in a bar and was paying my own way in life, not wanting a dollar of my parents’ wealth. I was independent and wanted to make it in the world on my own. I wanted to be a nurse. Someone my parents thought was unworthy and of low status in life. They were entitled arseholes.
Anna checked my blood pressure for the six hundredth time, jotted down some notes on my chart and left, just in time for breakfast to be delivered. Stale cornflakes, warm milk and dry toast. Guess I’d just drink the orange juice. Hospital food was the worst. I ate better at Ray’s.
After not eating breakfast, I decided to switch on the television above the bed. I had avoided it so far, not wanting to see the news reports, knowing they would most likely be focused on mine and Kat’s escape. I still hadn’t seen Kat either. No one would tell me where she was, just that she was fine. I missed her and wanted to see for myself that she was coping okay. After three years in hell, it had to be a huge adjustment for her being on the outside.
I caught the end of a kids’ cartoon and was just starting to enjoy it; my brain switching off with nothing to do but watch mindless television was a reprieve from the constant thoughts and worry about Hendrix. And then the news came on. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut, not sure if I really wanted to see the broadcast. I heard my father’s name and peeled one eye open to watch in horror as he smiled at the camera. Flashes going off everywhere in the background. He was holding a press conference to address the public’s concern that there was a serial killer in the state that had gone under the radar for so long.
I couldn’t believe the words spewing from his mouth.
He was a master at lying and deflecting the questions he didn’t want to answer. And somehow managed to reassure the public that there was in fact no such serial killer, stating that the police had investigated the claims thoroughly and came up empty-handed.
I was seething. Though I didn’t know whether it was from his blatant lies, the fact the police had investigated and most likely had Hendrix out of the house, or that they investigated and found nothing. Would Ray go free? What was going to happen to Hendrix? Or was everything my father said completely untrue and the police were still sitting on their arses doing nothing? I didn’t know what to think or believe from that whole charade.
When he was questioned about his daughter’s abduction, again he lied. He manipulated the truth and made it seem like we were one big happy family, telling the public that I was safe and well and being tended to in a private hospital in the city, close to him and my mother so they could be with me. He told them I was suffering from a mental breakdown and in keeping with the lie, that there was no serial killer; I had faked my own disappearance in a cry for help and attention. They were going to get me the help I needed and asked for complete privacy during such a difficult time.
I wanted to murder my father in that moment.
I could.
And I could probably get away with it.
If I had Hendrix’s help.
But I wasn’t a monster. I wasn’t a killer. I was a victim and I was all alone. I missed Kat. I needed Hendrix. And I wanted to go back. I never should have left. Never
should have run. It wouldn’t have been so bad. I was learning to obey Ray, and when he was in a good mood, life wasn’t terrible. We probably could have made it work. At least Ray cared about us in his own sick and twisted way.
I guess that saying is true. The grass is always greener on the other side.
I switched off the television and rolled onto my side. Tears fell down my cheeks as I failed to stop the sobs. My chest hurt. My heart hurt. How could the two people who were meant to love their child unconditionally say such awful things? People were going to think I was mentally unstable. They’d lock me in a psych ward for my own good.
I had to run. I’d get Hendrix and we’d run. Together. It would be okay if we were together.
I must have dozed off because a few hours later I was woken for lunch. Grey-looking chicken noodle soup. Delicious. I ate the bread. My nutrition certainly wasn’t going to improve being bound to a hospital bed.
After more ‘routine tests’ and another IV change, I was ready to go back to sleep, but the idea was short-lived because Knowles reappeared in my doorway, accompanied by that same female detective that held me for questioning the night before last. I didn’t care enough to remember her name or if I was even told it at the time.
“How are you feeling, Lucy?” he asked as he took a seat beside me, the same as yesterday.
“Will be better when I can go home.” He didn’t need to know that the home I was planning on returning to wasn’t my own, but Ray’s. I would go back to Hendrix one way or another.
“I’m sure it won’t be long now.”
“What do you want?” I didn’t need any more questions. I couldn’t give any more answers. I was done talking. I just wanted to know what was going on.
“We’ve come to update you and see if there was anything else you needed to tell us?” He leaned forward and stared at me intently.
“Nope.” I shrugged and turned to look out the window at the bricks from the building next door. Great view. Almost as good as the boards in the windows at Ray’s house.
