by Julia Mills
With her hands tied over her head and a wall to her left, her view was less than optimal, but what she saw made her cringe. Valentina and Laurent, if that was his real name, had left her in a basement of some sort with dirty water dripping from a rusty pipe, trash piled in the corner, and the distinct smell of urine that assured Cyn she was squatting in someone’s makeshift home. The skittering of tiny claws across the concrete floor did nothing to ease her nerves, and neither did the sounds of footsteps overhead or the cloying scent of her hostess’ horrific perfume.
“You’d think she could at least smell like something besides overripe fruit and week old flowers. I thought maniacal villainesses were supposed to have good taste.” Cyn smiled at her wit, glad she could still joke considering the circumstances.
Shifting her hips, it became immediately apparent the rat bastards who’d tied her to the bed had also chained her feet. The rub of steel against her bare ankles and the clang of metal on metal made the now incredibly frustrated pharmaceutical rep curse under her breath. “Well, I’ll be damned. This party is getting weirder by the minute.” Grumbling under her breath as the sound of a large wooden door scraping across the concrete floor echoed through the space, Cyn bit her tongue and waited for the appearance of Valentina, who no matter what, she still thought of as Morticia Addams.
At least her wait wasn’t long, but what the nasty bitch said made Cyn want to slap her across the face. “Glad to see you’re awake. Not so tough, are we, little fýlakas tis kardiás mou. You would think the great god Zeus would’ve made you of sturdier stock considering you’re to mate a King and live forever.”
Okay….
Now doubting Valentina’s mental stability along with her good judgement, Cyn looked at the creepy woman and asked, “What the hell are you talking about? Did you drink your own crazy Kool-aid? And what is a ‘flaky cards moo’? Something all your buds at the funny farm are playing in their spare time?”
Chuckling like they were old friends while ignoring all of Cyn’s questions, Valentina sat her skinny bum on the edge of the rickety cot, crossed her legs, and patted Cyn’s thigh. “Oh darling, we have so much to discuss. I forgot that your sýntrofos hasn’t gotten around to explaining everything to you yet.”
Removing her hand before batting her eyes and picking at imaginary lint on the knee of her black pencil skirt, Valentina mocked, “Isn’t Roman such a silly man?” Sighing, she continued with an evil glint in her eye, “It’s a good thing he has me to pick up the slack as I always have for my King.”
Standing, Valentina motioned for Laurent to come out of the shadows. “Let’s get our dear Cynthia up. I believe there’s a chair over there that you can use. I think the shackles on her ankles will be enough.” She looked back to Cyn, wrinkled her nose, and finger waved like they were buds before continuing, “After all, we want her to be as comfortable as possible while we talk.”
Walking towards the door, she added over her shoulder, “Oh, and Laurent, please make sure she gets something to eat and drink. Wouldn’t want her wasting away. I’ll be back in an hour.”
Listening to the sounds of Valentina’s pointy-toed stilettos tap against the wooden steps had Cyn trying to conjure an escape plan. She liked Roman…a lot. Had dreamt about being with him for years, but if dating the great Mr. Marinos meant dealing with Mentally Deranged Mortica Addams, then Cyn was ready, willing, and able to walk away. No man, no matter how good-looking, was worth all this crap.
Watching Laurent pull a large wooden chair that had seen better days out of the dark, Cyn decided all she could do was try to convince the large silent man to let her go. It was obvious Valentina had some kind of hold over him but maybe, just this once, luck would be on her side.
Looking down her body as Laurent knelt at the foot of the cot to unlock the chains, Cyn asked, “Why are you doing this? You know I did nothing wrong.”
A low grunt was Laurent’s only response as she moved to the other side of the bed. Deciding her only course of action was to keep trying, she said, “If this is about money, you have to know I mean nothing to Roman Marinos. This was our first dinner date. He doesn’t know me from Adam.” Then she added with a conspiratorial whisper, “I think he just feels sorry for me cause I came from a one-horse town in the middle of nowhere.”
“Not about money,” the chauffeur’s barely audible grumble was his only response as he stood and walked to the head of the bed.
“Then what is it about?” Blowing her bangs out of her eyes again with the hopes of seeing her captor’s face, she added in her best begging tone, “Please, Laurent, help me understand why this is happening.”
His fingers fumbled with the knot holding her wrists to the rail at the top of the cot as he blew out a long, low breath and muttered something in what sounded like the same language Valentina sporadically used. Holding her breath, waiting for him to say something, anything, Cyn’s impatience won out and before she could engage her brain, her mouth was ranting like the crazy woman she was sure to become. “Why won’t you talk to me? You know I have no clue what’s going on. You’re the one that picked me up and was supposed to take me to Roman’s house but instead stuck a needle in my neck and trussed me up like grandpa’s first kill of the season. I’m being treated like a hostage but you say it’s not about money. I’ve been drugged, tied up, left in a stinky basement, and now I’m gonna have to listen to ‘Morticia’ drone on and on and you won’t even give me a clue about what is happening here. It’s just not right!”
Gulping for breath, Cynthia thought about cackling like a loon when Laurent’s only response was, “Who is Morticia?”
Instead she screamed, “That’s all you have to say?” She felt like her head was going to explode. “Who is Morticia? Really?”
Shaking her head, she mumbled to herself, “There is no way this is really happening….no freaking way.” Sure she’d slipped down the rabbit hole and was being escorted through her latest nightmare by Tweedledum, Cyn took a deep breath, then added in a much calmer tone, “I meant Valentina, you big doofus…Freudian slip.” Another breath. “Sorry for the confusion.” Rolling her eyes, she grumbled, “Not sure why I’m apologizing to you, but there you have it, good manners and all that happy horse crap. Grandpa would be proud.”
Without any preamble or any indication he’d heard a word she’d said after her answer to his dumbass question, Laurent bent down, unceremoniously threw Cyn over his shoulder, turned, and plopped her into the rickety wooden chair with the missing arm just as he’d been instructed. While she was trying to catch her breath and stop the room from spinning after her unexpected upside-down ride over Lurch’s shoulder, he proceeded to unwrap the rope from her wrists, throw it over his shoulder, then kneel at her feet and chain her to the chair.
When he stood, he looked at her and asked, “Would you prefer iced tea or water?”
Rubbing her rope-burnt wrists and rolling her shoulders to relieve the stiffness from having them over her head for what seemed like forever, Cyn decided her only course of action was to play along, so she answered, “Iced tea, two sugars, please.”
As he walked away, she added, “With a hacksaw and a get-outta-jail-free card too, please,” under her breath.
Looking over his shoulder before walking out the door, he asked, “Excuse me?”
“Oh nothing,” she sing-songed with a healthy dose of sarcasm while imagining beating him over the head with a baseball bat. “And to think I thought he was good-looking. What was I thinking?”
With a better view of her surroundings, Cyn was even more repulsed than before. It was obvious several people had been bedding down in the dank, dark basement. There were remnants of sleeping bags and blankets, pieces of cardboard scattered about, and more junk food wrappers than a high school cafeteria. There were several small windows at the very top of one wall, which allowed her to see that the sun was coming up and to assume they were somewhere abandoned by the total absence of people or noise.
“Well, shit,
won’t do any good to scream for help. Guess I’m stuck here waiting to see exactly what it is that ‘Morticia’ and ‘Lurch’ want with me.” She talked to herself to avoid thinking about the continued scratching of tiny claws coming from the dark corner on the far side of the room.
Thinking of Roman and her missed date made Cyn madder than she’d been in a long time. She was really looking forward to getting to know him, to see if he was anything like she imagined him to be. “He sure can kiss better than I ever imagined,” she thought out loud with a smile.
Remembering their passionate encounter in explicitly erotic detail, she was still grinning when Laurent reappeared carrying a tray of food with a large glass of iced tea in one hand and a folding TV tray in the other. Setting the table in front of her then the tray on top of it, he pointed at the food, “It’s turkey. Please have something to eat and drink. You need it to flush the drugs from your system.”
Scowling, she looked at him like he’d once and for all lost his ever-loving mind and spat,” You mean the drugs you put into my system?”
Looking truly sorry for his part in whatever was going on, the chauffeur turned kidnapper hung his head, “Look, I’m really sorry about all this. You’ve gotten involved in something that has absolutely nothing to do with you.” Looking at the door, then leaning forward, he whispered, “Valentina hasn’t always had a good life. Mr. Marinos saved her from a terrible fate and I guess,” the big man looked at his feet and cleared his throat before continuing, “well, I guess she’s just gotten too attached. Besides, there’s a history there that is older than all of us combined. Oikogéneias érchontai próta has always been her motto.”
Cynthia could see the turmoil in his eyes as he added, “And now that you’re here and reality is staring her in the face, she’s just snapped. I really never…”
His worlds were cut off by the sound of a door opening and closing on the upper level and Valentina calling, “Laurie, I’m back.” Without another word, Laurent wiped all emotion from his eyes and face, stood, and walked out of room and up the stairs.
Wondering exactly what the hell to make out of what had just transpired, what the hell he’d tried to tell her in whatever language he spoke in and exactly what she and reality had to do with Valentina’s level of insanity, Cyn picked up half of the sandwich she’d just been served and sniffed the cut edge. It smelled like nothing more than turkey and wheat bread, so since she was absolutely famished after not eating anything but a few crackers the day before and missing out on dinner last night, she took a big bite. Humming at how good something so simple tasted, she had one more taste before having a drink of tea and curling her nose. It was cold and wet but that was about all she could say. It tasted as if the lemons might have been a day or so past their sell by date.
“It ain’t dinner at a mansion with a millionaire but it’s better than starving,” she mused as she finished the partial sandwich and iced tea almost a full minute before the sound of stilettos striking wood reached her ears.
“Oh great, round two with Morticia.” The words were barely out of her mouth before Valentina came into view with the same smirk Cyn had seen before and yet another form-fitting black dress and overzealous amount of red lipstick. Preparing for the witch’s opening remarks, Cyn clenched her fists.
“Oh good, you’re eating. I wouldn’t want you to think us less than hospitable.” Valentina’s accent was more pronounced than before and if Cyn wasn’t mistaken, she seemed a little nervous.
Needing to know what had changed, she responded with her patented snark. “Oh, the chains around my ankles and the drugs in my neck took care of any ideas I had about your hospitality.”
Valentina struck a pose as if she was waiting for a photographer and attempted to intimidate Cynthia with a glare and a sneer. Never one to yield to bullying even when being held captive, Cyn stared back with a cock of her head and her best I-don’t-give- crap look. Their standoff continued until Laurent appeared with a foldout chair for Valentina.
Exposing her leg to mid-thigh via the deep slit in her skirt as she crossed her legs, Valentina placed her hands in her lap and looked back with the phoniest smile Cyn had ever seen before saying, “I understand your confusion and I am sure the chains are uncomfortable, but would you have listened to me had I not gone to such extreme measures?”
“We’ll never know, will we?” Cyn crossed her arms and shook her head, preparing for whatever information Valentina felt was important enough to include kidnapping.
Chuckling, Valentina kept up her pretense of them somehow being friends by leaning forward and patting Cyn’s knee. “No, I guess we won’t.” Pausing as she sat back, the Morticia lookalike straightened her skirt and added, “But we do have something very important to discuss, after which, you will be free to go.”
Unsure how much of what Valentina was saying was the truth and afraid to hope that her nightmare was about to come to an end, Cyn put on her best ‘whatever’ expression and nodded. “Whatever you say, Mor…ah…Valentina. Let’s get this over with. I’m tired of being chained up and need a shower.”
Once again, her hostess sat and stared, but this time Cyn could tell she was being sized up. She’d seen it a hundred times; starting in high school all the way through her life. Shock and awe was what Valentina was trying to achieve. Cyn thought about telling her that she’d been worked over by the best but decided to let the bitch get it out of her system.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long for Valentina to begin, but of course, the loon had no clue how to get to the point. “What I am about to tell you will be very hard to accept, but I assure you that I am being completely honest. Which, by the way, is more than I can say for our Roman.” She paused and sighed with a dreamy look in her eyes that made Cyn think about throwing up on Valentina’s very stylish Christian Louboutin crocodile stilettos.
As Morticia spoke, Cyn almost gave herself a migraine trying not to roll her eyes at her syrupy sweet tone and over exaggerated inflection. “Roman and I have known one another for years. As matter of fact, I am his closest friend, his confidant, and well, I don’t like to kiss and tell, but I guess I can tell you just to set the record straight, his lover.” Keeping eye contact for just a second before looking away, Valentina pretended to be embarrassed at her admission.
Narrowing her eyes, Cyn employed her favorite the-first-one-that-talks-loses tactic and instead of commenting, simply watched Valentina fix her cuffs, pick imaginary lint from her skirt, adjust her slit, then tuck several stands of her long, straight, ebony hair behind her ear, all while avoiding eye contact. She thought about yelling, “Liar, liar, pants on fire” but decided to see where all of Morticia’s pageantry was leading.
Laying her hand over her heart, Valentina once again leaned forward but didn’t touch Cyn this time as she continued, “I know this must come as a terrible shock, but I thought you should know that you’re chasing after a man with no intentions of being anything but a friend to you. I know we barely know each other, but if the roles were reversed, I would want to know the situation and be allowed to walk away without any further humiliation.”
From the look on her face, Cyn could tell Valentina was looking for a reaction, hoping for outrage and would continue pushing buttons until she got it. Leaning back, Valentina worked hard to school her features but couldn’t hide the tiny lines of stress around her eyes and mouth.
Now who’s feeling embarrassed? Or maybe finally starting to worry she might get caught?
Snapping her fingers over her shoulder, Valentina called, “Laurent, dear, can you bring me the photos?”
Oh great! Visual aids…
Appearing from the shadows, the chauffeur handed Valentina a large leather bound album, glanced at Cyn with unexpected sympathy, then turned and disappeared. Flipping through the pages of the book, Valentina hummed to herself, obviously planning her Hail Mary since nothing so far had worked. It was actually kind of a letdown. Cyn had really expected more after all that had tra
nspired thus far but then again, she was dealing with ‘Morticia’ and ‘Lurch’; maybe this was the best they could do.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Valentina looked up from her book and smiled. Cyn had seen the same look in her competitors’ eyes over the years. It said they were brimming with confidence and ripe to be knocked off their pedestal. Settling back into her seat, Cyn returned Valentina’s stare, cocked her head to the side, and waited.
A slight nod then a clearing of her throat and Valentina began again, “I had hoped to handle all this more delicately, but I can see from the look in your eyes that it will take proof you can see and feel for you to believe what I am saying.”
She looked back down at the album in her lap and continued without glancing up, “Roman has many secrets and as his confidant, I’ve kept these secrets for more years than I can remember.” She flashed her onyx eyes at Cyn. “So, as I’m sure you can understand, I’m going to have to ask for your utmost discretion and secrecy. What I show you here today must stay just between us girls.”
Unable to stop herself, Cyn added, “And Laurent. Let’s not forget about your henchman.”
Chuckling like she was at a cocktail party as opposed to addressing the woman she’d being holding captive for a day, Valentina tittered, “Oh, never fear. Laurent will keep our secret.” She glanced over her shoulder. “He always has. He’s my cousin, you see.” Another chuckle. “We’ve been thick as thieves for years.”
Clapping her hands together, Valentina smiled, “So, where were we?” Patting the book, “Oh yes, Roman’s dirty little secrets.”
Narrowing her eyes ever so slightly and leaning forward like she was about to divulge state secrets, Valentina lowered her voice, “I supposed the easiest way is to just rip off the Band-Aid and get it over with.”
Yeah, I’m growing old here. Ya’ stupid cow…
