by J. Thorn
“Can we make a deal?” Lindsay asked. She sensed a shift in Jack. She had dealt with her share of abusive men. Lindsay recognized the nervousness in his face and the excitement building from holding a captive. She shuddered when she thought of his intentions, basing those on episodes of abuse she thought were deep in her past.
Gag her.
“No,” Jack said. He searched the cabin with his eyes, trying to decide if he should silence Lindsay first or secure Samuel’s hands while he remained unconscious. “I’m gonna tie him up first.”
Jack tore the drawstring from Lindsay’s rucksack. He pulled Samuel’s arms up and over his head until they crossed at his wrists. He ran the string around Samuel’s hands and tied the string as tight as he could make it without breaking the skin. The concern for Samuel made Jack laugh as he thought about what the man’s fate would be when the cloud arrived. That thought led him back to Lindsay and the plan he had for her.
“Ever been on a plane?” he asked.
Gag her. Do it now or you’ll regret it.
“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth now outlined in crimson.
I’m tellin’ you, Jacky. Gag her and take what you want. If you don’t, she’s going to fuck you over.
“Didja ever play that game, where you look around and decide who it would be?”
Lindsay shook her head in confusion as the aftershocks of Jack’s blows worsened her disorientation.
“What are you talking about?”
“Her? Maybe her? Who would it be if the plane was going down?”
“That is a fucked-up, guy fantasy. Women don’t think like that.”
Last chance. Fucking gag her. You’re going to mess this up.
“Shut up,” Jack shouted, snapping Lindsay’s head back in surprise. “I can handle her.”
“Calm down, Jack. Maybe you and I can work something out. It doesn’t have to end like this. I got you now. I know what you’re talking about. Seeing as how I’m the only woman here, I’m thinking it’s me and you, right?”
Lindsay forced a smile at Jack with all of the mental energy she could muster.
You’re toast, motherfucker.
Jack grabbed at his temples and screamed. He ran to the wall of the cabin and slammed his forehead into the splintering panels. Jack repeated the head butt three more times before staggering backward and wiping the blood flowing from the wound beneath his hairline.
“Get out of my head,” he said, before standing up and walking back to Lindsay.
She felt some give in the ropes around her ankles, but the bonds on her hands were so tight, her fingers began to tingle.
“Untie me, Jack. You and I, we can have a lot more fun if I can move around.”
Jack stood over her, looking into her eyes as blood ran down his face. He raised a hand that made her shudder. Lindsay shook until she felt his cold fingers running down the side of her face, imagining them leaving a trail like a wet slug.
“Like what?”
Lindsay recognized the opening and took advantage of it. That single crack in his determination would allow her to exploit the twisted thoughts rolling through his head. She only needed to delay him long enough to begin the deception. Lindsay hoped his overpowering lust would allow her to play the game.
“You ever been with a girl?” she asked.
“Of course,” Jack said. He laughed as if she had suggested he set his hair on fire.
“I don’t mean with some Suzy Tightlegs in the back of your dad’s car, you two pawing at each other through layers of clothing and teenage stupidity. I’m talking about being with a woman. You ever been with a woman, Jack?”
She saw the anger flood his face and decided to pull back a bit. Sending him into a blind rage would not help her escape.
“Shut up. I don’t want to hear you say anything else to me. Just shut up.”
Lindsay closed her eyes and obeyed, giving Jack an opportunity to calm down.
“What can we do if, you know, I untie you?”
Lindsay felt a thin crack of hope and began prying it open. “I can show you things that will make you lose your mind. I’ll bring you pleasure like you’ve never imagined.”
Jack sat on the floor and looked up into Lindsay’s face. “Tell me,” he said.
Lindsay looked down and forced a smile. He sat there like a little boy ready to hear a bedtime story, blood continuing to ooze from the self-inflicted gash on his head.
Epic fail, jackass. You’re beyond the point of return. Enjoy the ride.
Jack shook as he felt Kole’s presence dissipate.
“I get really wet, Jack. You ever gone bareback? I know how to apply the right amount of pressure on you and I get really, really wet.”
Jack’s lungs hitched and he felt a rush of heat to his groin. “Go on.”
“Come here and see what I mean.”
Jack stood, looking around the cabin. He glanced at Samuel to convince himself the man was still unconscious on the floor.
“Put your hands on my breasts.”
Jack reached out, both hands extended and shaking as if he were sleepwalking. He lowered them over her breasts slowly until he felt the fabric of Lindsay’s shirt. Jack squeezed and felt the voluptuous flesh cupped in both hands. Lindsay let a subtle moan escape and turned her head upward.
“I like that,” he said.
“Yeah, I knew you would. That’s just the beginning, Jack, but we can’t go any further with my wrists and ankles tied up.”
Lindsay knew it was a risk, but time was of the essence and she could not afford to waste any more of it. If Jack took the bait, the gamble would pay off and she might have a chance.
“I swear I’ll break your damn face if you try anything.”
“I won’t, Jack. I won’t.”
Jack walked over and untied the rope holding Lindsay’s ankles together. “That’s it for now. No way I’m untying your hands.”
Lindsay smiled and pointed her toes, allowing the blood to rush back to her feet.
“Then I guess there’s no way I can pleasure you with them.”
Jack stood and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Prove you’re telling the truth,” he said. “Let me touch you—down there.”
Lindsay felt as though an insect had crawled over the back of her neck. “Okay,” she said, knowing she would have to earn his trust before he freed her hands. “You slide down my pants and have a touch-see.”
Jack fell to his knees and began fighting with the button on Lindsay’s pants while she pushed her waist up in order to make it easier on him. She stared at the ceiling as she had done so many times in the past. This would end violently, too, and Lindsay knew it always came with a price. She felt his fingers brushing over her panties while he yanked the pants off her hips.
“I like it gentle,” she said, hoping to discourage sudden movement. “Stroke me gentle.”
The cold air hit Lindsay as Jack pulled at her panties. Lindsay could not help remove her pants while her hands remained tied behind the chair, which prevented her from spreading her legs. Jack moved his right hand toward Lindsay’s skin until he felt her body heat on his palm.
“Can we?” he asked.
“Not with my hands tied. I can’t get my pants down, and I definitely can’t get into the positions you’re going to like more than me sitting in a chair.”
Jack looked at Samuel again, expecting him to rise to Lindsay’s rescue along with a load of shame to heap on Jack. When the man did not move or react to Lindsay’s suggestion, Jack nodded. He grabbed the knife in one hand and thrust it into her face. Lindsay pushed back and hoped he would not explode into another tirade while holding the weapon.
“You try anything and I’ll stab you.” Jack slid the blade underneath the bindings, freeing her hands.
“I won’t try anything you don’t want me to do,” Lindsay said, pouring on the sensuality with her voice. She winked, ran her hands down to the insides of her knees, and pushed her legs apart. Linds
ay tilted her head backward as she brought her hands back up to her breasts, where she pinched the nipples with enough pressure to make them rise.
“What next?” Jack asked, his tongue falling from his mouth.
“Let me taste you,” Lindsay whispered.
Jack blinked and shook his head.
“Promise not to spoil all the fun right away,” she said as she leaned forward, right hand moving down between her legs.
Without wasting another second, Jack set the knife down on the table and pushed his pants down. His erection jutted out, aimed for Lindsay.
It was the moment she hoped she would get, and one she would not waste.
***
Jack dropped to the floor of the cabin and his body curled in upon itself. Lindsay reared back and delivered another kick, this time connecting with his ribs and knocking the air from Jack’s lungs. She grabbed the frayed rope that dangled from her wrists and used it to secure Jack’s.
“You’re just a boy. You couldn’t handle me.”
Lindsay delivered another kick to his ribs to make sure he understood she had bested him.
Jack pushed with his feet until his back made contact with the wall. He continued pedaling across the floor until he sat, his face blue and mouth open as he gasped for air. Lindsay grabbed the rope from the floor and tied his feet together as he had done to her. Before stepping back, Lindsay tore a strip of cloth from his shirt and used it to gag him.
Dumb shit.
“I really have nothing more to say to you, and I sure as hell don’t want to hear your blabbering.”
She ran a hand through her hair before she buttoned her pants and pulled them up, not wanting to give Jack another second of voyeuristic pleasure, even with a set of bruised testicles.
When Lindsay heard the groan, anger rose in her throat like acid reflux. She spun, ready to knock teeth from Jack’s mouth, before she realized it was Samuel stirring on the floor. Lindsay ran over and bent down. Samuel turned his head to face her, his nose caked with blood and sitting askew.
“You okay?” she asked.
He brought a hand up to his face and felt the pain radiate through his entire body. “Getting real tired of having my nose broke.”
Lindsay smiled and helped spin him around so he could sit against the wall, opposite Jack.
“What he do, forget his homework?”
“Our boy thought it’d be fun if he tied me up without my consent.”
“Jack, Jack,” Samuel said. “Young and impulsive and you got an ass whooping to prove it.”
Jack blinked, not trying to mask the bitterness seeping from his eyes.
“What now?” she asked.
“How about a date?” Samuel said.
“Seems to be an odd time for us to pursue a relationship.”
“I know a way we can develop a plan. Looks like the cloud is getting closer.”
Lindsay looked out the window, and although she could not see its progress, she felt it. “How?” she asked.
“Well, we’ve got to go to bed first.”
A smile crept across Lindsay’s face as she sat back down on the chair. “Of course.”
Even through his broken face, Samuel felt the rush of blood after he thought about what he said. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Not yet you didn’t,” Lindsay said.
“Let’s get him secured,” Samuel said, nodding at Jack. “And then we’ll talk this out.”
Lindsay shrugged as if she remotely understood what Samuel meant. Jack smiled, happy he had not been served to the spider-crabs. At least not yet.
Chapter 8
She could not deny the attraction between them, yet felt as though part of him remained hidden, locked. As though the pain was too much to set free. Samuel told her little about himself in the short time they spent together. Given all of the circumstances of such an incredible situation, Lindsay considered herself lucky to have anyone concerned about her well-being.
Samuel laid Jack down on his side and made sure the bindings remained secure.
“I really wish you would have hit me over the head instead of in the nose. Seriously, Jack. That piece of cartilage on my face is as brittle as old newspaper.”
Jack’s eyes met Samuel’s, a twinge of regret floating amongst the madness.
“I’m going to remove this gag. There isn’t any good that would come from making a scene. Only the spider-crabs will hear you. But we all need to sleep and I can’t do that with you flapping your lips. Got it?”
Jack nodded.
“Can’t we leave him gagged?”
Samuel turned to Lindsay. She stood with her arms folded on her chest, tapping one foot on the floor.
“We can, but I doubt he’s going to sleep much that way.”
“Sorry if I’m not concerned about the comfort of someone who smacked you in the face with a frying pan and was about to rape me.”
Samuel looked at Jack and made a face that said he had to agree with Lindsay.
“It’s your call,” she said.
“Jack. I’m going to remove the gag, but you need to know that you’ve got nothing left with us. If you scream, try to escape, sneeze, whatever, I’m leaving you on the doorstep for the spider-crabs to have their way. Nobody is tired but we have to sleep in order to dream. When we dream, people talk to us. You understand?”
Jack nodded, his eyes pleading. Samuel ripped the gag from Jack’s mouth, allowing a rush of air and spittle to escape from the young man.
“Thanks,” Jack said.
“Don’t thank me, asshole. I wanted to set you on the curb with the rest of the garbage,” Lindsay said.
Jack dropped his eyes to the floor.
“We all need to dream,” Samuel said. “When I tap you on the shoulder, it’ll be time to move no matter how early it is or how tired you may feel, understand?”
“You’re taking me with you?” Jack asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” Samuel said. “Lindsay and I will discuss that tonight.”
“Can I just say—?”
Jack never finished his sentence. Lindsay came with a hard right to his jaw. Jack’s eyes rolled up into his sockets and then his head canted to one side, eyes closed.
“I’m done listening to him. That should help him sleep.”
“Remind me never to tell you I’ve got insomnia.”
Lindsay laughed and sat next to Samuel on the edge of the bunk. “I’m scared. I’ve been scared my entire life, living while looking over a shoulder. But this is a different kind of fear.”
Samuel nodded.
“I trust you, Samuel. I have to. I’m not good at trusting men and I swear I’ll cut your balls off if you fuck me over.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know, but I promise we’re in this together. That decision was not mine, but I’m glad it was made.”
He slid his hand over hers. Lindsay turned her palm up and laced her fingers between his.
“We have to get to sleep,” Samuel said, removing his hand and standing. “We need time to figure out our plan.”
“Right,” Lindsay said, shaking her head and standing next to Samuel. “How?”
“You take the bunk, and I’ll lie on the floor. Just let sleep take you and I’ll do the rest.”
Lindsay nodded. She sat back down on the bunk, turned to face the wall, and pulled her knees up into her chest. Samuel looked at her and fought the urge to let his thoughts wander to places they could not afford to go.
When the time is right, he thought.
“Breathe slowly and let sleep come naturally,” he said.
When she didn’t reply, he knew she had a head start.
Samuel stepped past the young man spraying the sidewalk with a green hose. He wore a Team Italia shirt with several gold chains on his chest.
“Morning.”
“Good morning,” Samuel said.
He passed several art galleries and a cigar shop before stopping in front of Presti’s. The crowd hadn’t come from the
Church of the Holy Rosary yet, and he knew the espresso machine would have fresh beans. The rest of Little Italy slept, save the few men spraying the sidewalk or sweeping away the debris from the previous night’s dinner crowd.
Samuel loved strolling through the ethnic neighborhood sandwiched between Cleveland Heights and University Circle. Immigrants brought to Cleveland to do marble work at Lakeview Cemetery never returned to Italy, choosing instead to begin a new life in America like so many before them. A hundred years later, the eastsiders came for the best Italian cuisine between Chicago and New York.
He passed two couples enjoying a morning paper, some cannoli and a round of laughter over mugs of coffee. Samuel nodded in their direction before passing through the glass doors. It was too early for the queue system they needed to manage the busy lunch and dinner crowds. Samuel spotted his favorite Presti’s girl, the one with the sleeve of tattoos as colorful as a spring rainbow.
“Hey, Samuel,” she said, hair tucked up high on her head and skewered with a pencil.
“Hey,” he said, playing it cool. He never asked her name, yet she knew his.
“What do you want this morning?”
He looked down at the egg and cheese croissants, dozens of donuts, and cases of homemade Italian pastries that filled the air with their sweet aroma. Samuel saw the espresso machine waiting to come to life.
“Double-shot espresso and raspberry-chocolate mousse, please.”
“They just finished making the mousse. The chocolate will melt in your mouth.”
Samuel smiled and looked around, knowing he would not see Lindsay yet, but searching anyway.
The girl returned, punching the keys on the cash register. “Six even,” she said.
Samuel dug a handful of bills from his pocket and laid a five and a one on the counter. He dropped an extra dollar bill into the tip jar.
“Thanks, hon,” she said, giving him a warm, wide smile. “I’ll bring your stuff out to you when it’s ready.”
Samuel nodded and walked to a table in the corner. It sat against the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out on the sidewalk. A handful of cars drove on Mayfield Road through Little Italy on their way to University Circle, Cleveland’s cultural epicenter. When he saw Lindsay turn the corner and pull the handle on the front door, he felt a sense of relief. He also hoped Jack would keep his word and not wake them with his big mouth.
