by Marie Ellie
In a quick and strong movement, he lowered down and grabbed me forcefully to raise me onto his hips. He walks to the wall and pins me there to help him balance. I am wrapped around his neck with both arms, and my legs are at his waist level. He leans me against the wall while unbuckling his belt and exposes his stiffness. I'm so ready, but those sports pants are still in the way.
Charles sets me on the floor and pulls down my pants without letting me get away from the wall. I help him out by lifting my feet a little while he takes them off. When he finally gets all of my clothes off of me, he approaches me again, lifting me back onto him and putting my back against the wall. I lose myself in his kisses and feel how that blue-eyed man who made me forget all my troubles enters me. A moment as special as it is delicious in the rarest place in the world, those cold metal walls witnessed a truly erotic moment.
While I was recovering from that marathon, Charles stood up and said goodbye to me with a touch on the cheek. My body was still beating for him and his touch.
“I'm going into the office tonight. I hope to be here early tomorrow for breakfast and with Andrew's information.”
“Good luck Charles and thank you…” I said after taking a deep breath and jumping on him all at once for the satisfaction that he’d given me that meeting and the worry that something bad was going to happen.
“Don’t worry, I'll be fine.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
CHAPTER XII
A FORCED ESCAPE
It was a really long night. I certainly don’t know if the sun has risen already or not, so I don’t know if it’s been a long time or if it will be even longer still. From here I have no way of knowing if it's sunny, if it's night, if it's cloudy or if it's raining. The hours go by and without a clock nearby to follow the hands, time stops making sense. Everything becomes a single moment, a single day, a period that you cannot divide. I only recover a little notion when Charles arrives, but while I'm alone, it's empty time. I am anxious for him to arrive, and I would like to say that my craving is due to the desire to know who Andrew is and what he is looking for, but it’s not really like that. I'm anxious to see Charles, to feel safe and to enjoy the time I spend with him, even in this damned vault.
His previous visit was so pleasant that I completely forgot to ask him to bring my laptop. I haven’t ruled out the idea of writing the book. On the contrary, I was thinking about the chapters I would have, how many parts it would be divided into and where the story would unfold. I’d have to do a bit of research to improve the story of my life and decorate it with real events of people I don’t know and who has appeared on the news. I haven’t been on the news. I was kidnapped in the finest way in the history of humanity, I’ve been held hostage for more than five years, I’ve been drugged, I’ve been tortured, or someone pretended to have tortured me, I’m not sure yet; I’ve been raped, and I haven’t been in this country’s news for even two seconds. Not even because I’m the daughter of one of the most influential members of Congress. What I’m sure of is that my meeting yesterday with Charles is going to be a very good chapter in my book.
I wonder if the press would’ve noticed my absence. I remember that on my wedding day there were celebrity reporters covering the event that was reported in the social section of one of the most influential magazines in the State. The photos were spectacular, and everyone talked about the wedding. So I wonder if anyone said, “What happened to Grace McLaren?” or even more, why nobody in the press has discovered the corrupt acts that my father had to do to protect my life. The press always has their noses in all the movements of politicians, then why hasn’t it been like that in this case. Not a report, not a single one. Maybe they have the press controlled. I wouldn’t be surprised if Andrew exercised some pressure to avoid scandals. Gangsters have always exercised undue influence on people who hold positions of interest. Since the world has been the world and since this country has been writing its history its always been that way. Children are killed, relatives are kidnapped, money is offered, fortunes are amassed, all in the name of silence. The same silence that echoes in my ears since Charles left and closed the great metal door that keeps this vault in total anonymity and me as a hostage of the system.
The book can talk about that, the system full of corruption where things are done and undone without anyone saying anything. Better not, that topic is so trite that there are even television series dealing with corrupt governors. Although thinking about it, I could put my father as the protagonist. In all the series and movies the corrupt rulers do what they do for power and money, but my father is different. I can write the story of a congressman who has committed crimes, has violated laws, has been corrupt, all for saving his daughter from the hands of a terrorist group that holds her hostage in a vault, since he took office as a public official. Surely it would be a best seller, they can even make a movie of it.
While I wait for Charles to enter, I lay waiting here on this green military cot. I can’t complain about the comfort, the pillow and the blanket have helped a lot with respect to that, at least it’s not so cold. The story of the book is still spinning in my head, and when I’ve almost decided how to finish the first chapter, the digital panel of the door beeps again while someone types in the numbers that release the lock which keeps it closed. The fear fills me again for not knowing who will appear once the door opens. Surely it's Charles, he promised to come with breakfast and with information about Andrew. The seconds pass as if they were hours while I wait for the metal door to open. I hope to see Charles's face, but I’m afraid that something has gone wrong and that he’s been caught trying to help me.
I count down the seconds, and finally, I see them. The blue eyes that illuminate me every time they appear behind the door. It's Charles, and he came with a plastic tray with a lid, the kind they give in hospitals. He approaches, plants a kiss on my mouth and shows me what he has brought to eat. The breakfast is varied, quite nutritious. A scrambled egg, toast with grape jelly, a sandwich with American cheese and a high-quality ham, orange juice and a little bit of coffee. I was surprised that he brought me breakfast on that tray, that must be some directive from Andrew.
“Hello beautiful, how are you feeling today?”
“Good, I was waiting for you.”
“I know, I came as soon as I could.”
“Thanks, I was already a little hungry.”
“Did you sleep well? Were you able to rest?”
“Actually I don’t know, the night was long, I woke up a lot, and it was hard to fall asleep again.”
“Are you uncomfortable? Do you need me to change your pillow?”
“No, it wasn’t because of discomfort, I spent the night thinking about writing, I want to take advantage of the time I’m here to write my story, and I was thinking about that. I wanted to ask you if you could somehow manage to bring my laptop.”
“That would be a very good idea. But I can’t promise anything, I have to ask for authorization to bring it. Anyway, I'm going to try to make sure you get your laptop. I think it would do you good.”
“Thank you.”
“Eat, I want us to talk about Andrew when you're done.”
“Talk to me while I'm eating if you want.”
“No, I prefer that you eat calmly and then we’ll talk. While you're having breakfast, I'm going to take the opportunity to ask Andrew to let me bring your laptop.”
“Alright, deal.”
“Perfect, I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm going to leave the door open, please ...” and as I knew what he was going to say I joined him and said in chorus – “don’t leave.”
I saw him walk away leaving the door open. I definitely don’t want to cause problems, so I don’t even go near the door. I sit on the green military cot with the tray in my lap trying to enjoy my breakfast. I have to control myself and stop asking Charles for things, but I would’ve preferred him to bring pancakes instead of this sad toast. I’ve always loved pancakes, and people criticize
me because I usually eat two pancakes with ham and cheese in between, as if it were a sandwich, with butter and syrup on top. If the ham is mortadella, I enjoy it even more. I know it may sound grotesque, but I swear that it’s the most delicious thing that exists. William could never get over that mixture of pancakes with mortadella and cheese, he always told me how disgusting it looked. He didn’t know what he was missing. Each bite was an explosion of flavor and texture that was simply irresistible. I don’t want to eat this breakfast that is sad and healthy.
I finish eating and place the tray on the floor next to the cot. I hear the footsteps of someone coming down the basement stairs. I'm glad to hear the footsteps in the distance instead of the sound that the electronic panel on the vault door makes every time someone tries to open it. It's a little more normal to hear the footsteps of someone approaching, and since I know what shoes he wears, I can assure myself that it's Charles. His shoes look comfortable and casual, they are a type of moccasin with the seams marked as if they were handmade. They look very young, and really they complement his style quite well.
Upon entering, Charles finds me staring at the entrance, waiting for him to appear on there.
“You were waiting for me?” he says with a mischievous smile painted on his face.
“Yes, I want to know how it went, and I also want to be able to study you and have you close.”
“I have everything that was in Andrew's record right here. Last night when I got to my apartment, I was able to print it off, and I brought it. Unfortunately, I have an assignment for Andrew, and I can’t stay with you, but the information is here. As soon as I get it finished I'll come back and bring you something for dinner.”
Charles handed me the paper folded under his shirt, and although I was waiting all night to read it, I couldn’t hide the disappointment to know that Charles's visit this time was shorter than I expected.
“Do you want something special for dinner?”
“No, whatever you want.” Something had happened to me with respect to that boy who had made me fall in love with him, but at that moment I only thought that he was one of Andrew’s employees who had to go to work; although being with me is part of his job, I can’t forget that detail.
Charles left the vault, this time closing the door. My mood was not the same, first because Charles had left and second, one paper? The only thing in Andrew's record was on one paper?
Logistics & Personal Security H. LLP / L.S.P. LLP, well they have a corporate structure, they are a security company and heck, security, they have me stored in a vault. At least the name sounds legal, we'll see when all this is uncovered.
Name: Andrew Thomas
Position: Co-Founder and Vice-President of L.S.P LLP, Chief of Staff
Description of Obligations: Responsible for hiring and instructing the security personnel in charge. Designing the security strategies that each client requires according to their special needs. He has total discretion to make the decisions he deems appropriate taking into account any circumstances that arise in the workplace.
Age: 42
Marital Status: Single
Academic Preparation: Bachelor of Arts
Sub Specialty: Languages
Military training: Third Infantry Division of the United States, toured in Iraq 2003 - 2005
That was everything. It couldn’t be more disappointing than this. What am I supposed to discover with so little information? This didn’t work out as expected, I definitely need to get out of here and do things by myself. I can’t wait for anyone, nor can I expect things to come here as if by magic. I'm going to leave, and the only thing I can use in my favor is the trust that Charles has given me. Unfortunately, I have to trick him to escape from here. Today I have an opportunity, he said he would come back to bring dinner. By that time it will already be quite late, so I can flee in his car. I have no other option. Surprise him and get out of here to my father's office.
I took the paper with information that Charles had brought me and with the back of the toothbrush I tried to imprint the paper to mark a message apologizing and explaining why I did what I was going to do. For not having anything to write with, it was pretty good and clear, so I folded the paper and put it between my breasts. I started to look around to see what I could use to hit Charles with and suddenly saw the hospital-type food tray right next to the cot. Surely I could hit him hard enough with this, it wouldn’t kill him, but it’s strong enough to get the job done.
I have everything ready, at least in my mind, it may go well, or it may go poorly, and Charles may end up hating me for this, but I have to take a chance. Now I have to wait for Charles to ambush him, I better lie down and pretend to be asleep to fool myself into thinking that time has passed faster.
I’ve reviewed the plan a thousand and one times so far today. I intend to get out of here so I better take a bath as best as I can with what little I have. I take one of the small towels that Charles brought me and start to take a bath. First, I take off all my clothes that still have that smell from the erotic encounter I had with Charles. I wet the towel, squeeze it a little, and start passing it over my body. I've been here for an unknown amount of time, and it's the first time I've taken a shower since I left the hospital. “Bath” is a pretty ambitious word for what I'm doing but, in these circumstances, I can’t do anything else. I finish cleaning myself as well as I can, take another dry towel out and rub it all over my body. I look for the clothes that Charles put in the blue shopping bag for me and I choose a set of black sportswear, socks, slippers and I’m ready. I tie my hair on top of my head and sit on the cot to wait.
Review the plan once more. This has to work; this is like hitting a tennis ball on the serve, the only thing is that this time it’s not a racquet, it’s a thick plastic tray, and instead of the yellow ball, I’ll be using Charles' head. It sounds cruel, but I can’t do anything else. Now, this is important, leave the message in his pocket and take the keys to the 428i. Now that I remember the paper; I had put it between my breasts before I bathed, where did I leave it? I get up and look through the clothes that I took off prior to taking my bath, I bend over and start shaking them until the folded piece of paper falls to the floor and at that moment, the electronic panel of the vault door starts beeping, someone is coming.
I scramble, putting the paper between my breasts, taking the clothes that I had shaken and leaving them in a corner next to the toilet before running to sit on the cot as if nothing happened. I sit with the tray beside me, within my reach, ready for my ambush. My heart beats faster than normal, I check my plan again and again almost automatically. The adrenaline that’s running through my body will help me give a strong and accurate hit, enough to get me out of here.
The door is opening, and there he appears with his blue eyes, Charles arrived with dinner and with my ticket out. I hope you forgive me for what I’m about to do.
“This time I brought hamburgers with potatoes. I hope you like it.”
“I'm not in a position to choose a la carte food, I suppose.”
“Well, we can make an arrangement. Tomorrow I can bring you what you ask for, what you like more, if you want a fillet steak with steamed potatoes and vegetables, I'll bring it to you, just tell me how bloody you want the meat.”
“Medium rare, please.” I say with a smile that I don’t have to force but that tries to hide the nerves that I feel for what I am about to do.
Charles turns to leave the bags of food on the floor where we sat down to eat Japanese food the last time, and that was my chance. I saw him bending his legs until his 6 feet were below my 5’6,” and with the plastic hospital tray held with both hands, I swing it back to gain momentum and hit him with all my strength.
It was not enough. Charles touches his head and looks at his hand to make sure that it doesn’t have any blood. I stepped back and see where he is, squatting and looking up at me, amazed and annoyed. You can see the anger in his eyes. I look at the door of the vault that is still open and thi
nk about running away, but Charles notices my plans and gets up and grabs me by the hair before I take three steps.
“Bitch! You dare hit me after I've treated you the best I can. I've been your caretaker, and this is how you pay me.”
Charles has me by the hair, pinned to the wall, the same wall he used to balance himself and make me his, now he’s using it to hurt me. That really bothers me. I try to explain, but he doesn’t allow me to talk and puts his right hand in my mouth. He’s really furious, and I have no choice but to bite him. Charles steps back, and I push him against the metal shelf. He grabs me with both hands, turns me around, turning my back towards him, pressing it into his chest. He puts his arms around my head, in a headlock style. He wants to put me to sleep, I think about how to get rid of that man who was inside me the day before, and the only thing that occurs to me was to bend my leg back looking for his member. I found it; I stuck him in his crotch. He had the immediate reflex of letting go and taking his hands to his member, and in less than a blink of an eye, with all my strength I pulled the metal shelf that was behind Charles so that it fell on him. When he realized, it was too late. I already had all that heavy furniture full of cans on him.
Charles fell to the ground almost immediately after receiving that blow. I can’t waste a second; I take the note from between my breasts, wad it into a ball and throw it to the side. Apologies are no longer necessary. I take the keys to his 428i, and since I’m already doing this and I’m not going to leave without a wallet or anything, I take some money from what I had in his wallet that, for the good of both of us, was enough. $40.00 is enough for me.
I run out of the vault, climb the stairs, leave the office and leave the house in less than a minute. Charles's car is outside, I ran to it, deactivate the alarm, I enter and start the engine. It takes me a minute to put on the belt and adjust the seat to reach the pedals. Once I'm ready, I get out of there as fast as I can. In less than a minute I am on the Montauk Highway that passes my house, and I’m driving in the direction of New York City. It's 7:00 in the evening and I have about 3 hours to think what the hell I'm going to do when I arrive and meet my father.
