Come Home Bad Boy (29 page)

Why wouldn't be here? What is he really doing?

I could go to his house, but I've only been there once. I don't even know if I remember how to get there.

Owen had been acting different recently. I constantly watched him scan every place we went to, his eyes perpetually shifting in all directions. A paranoia seemed to weigh on his shoulders.

Maybe the pregnancy had created a friction inside him? I hadn't been able to figure it out, even offering to listen got me no answers. The therapist me inside wanted to attribute it to the pregnancy.

Maybe he fears losing it all, losing the baby even?  Does he worry he will turn into the father he barely had? He needs to open up, let me in. I might be able to help if he would just talk to me.

I should head home, maybe he'll show up there.

I gripped the shifter and pulled it hard into drive, but I struggled to click it into gear.
Come on! Not now!
With one swift tug it jolted into place; I slammed down on the gas and tore out of the parking lot.

The clock read five-thirty as I drove back home. My mind twisted with different reasons he hadn't answered or called me back.

He could be scared and second guessing about the baby, maybe he has doubts about being tied down?

All I know is he better have a good excuse for working me up like this.

As the tires bared down on the pavement I tried to calm myself. I didn't want to create an issue that wasn't there. I had thought about calling the police, but what would I say? That my convict boyfriend who is on parole hadn't called me?

What if he'd gotten caught up in something bad? He'd be sent right back to prison.

You're being crazy, Charlie. He's not doing anything, he told you before that he never wanted to go back. I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he left his phone in his car.

No, he always had it on him. Especially with the baby now, in case I ever needed anything. That's what he said, those were his words.

Something is wrong, I just know it is.

As I pulled into my driveway I noticed the apartment was dark.

Huh, I thought Sara would be home by now. Wait... no, tonight she's staying at her boyfriend's house.

The two had reconciled, continuing their pattern. It bothered me, but it wasn't my place to tell her who to date. Especially now.

The front door wasn't illuminated under the light. I fidgeted with the key, my brain tickling with a new realization.
It's way too quiet in there. Where's Biscuit? I don't hear him, he always gets excited when he hears me jiggling the lock.

I opened the door and stepped in, my hand coming up to flick the switch in the entryway for the hall lights, but nothing happened.

Weird, what's wrong with the lights?
I lifted the switch up and down a couple more times, but the hall remained shrouded in darkness. My hand rested on the wall as I made my way into the condo. The silence floated creepily around me.

What's going on? Why are the lights out? There hasn't been a storm or anything.

Did Sara forget to pay the bill?

As I reached the kitchen a loud thud echoed from further inside. My body, startled from the noise; no one was supposed to be home.

“Biscuit?” I walked in the direction of the sound. Slowly I felt my way down the hall, a subtle glow from the street lights outside casting shadows. I was able to see the shapes and outlines of where I was walking.

A noise I couldn't make out came from Sara's room. It sounded muffled and strained, I stopped in my tracks to listen.

Maybe she brought her boyfriend here?
“Sara? You in there?” My breathing began to intensify, worry and fear had set in. I could hear something move around, but had gotten no response. “Hello? Sara? Are you home?”

A brief flash of a horror movie crossed my mind. Every time I watched one, I would yell at the screen for the girl to not make herself known, to be quiet and stealthy. I always thought they were stupid for yelling into the empty darkness.

But here I had been doing just that, yelling at something or someone I couldn't see.

Another thud crept through the air; I froze, uncertain of what I was hearing. Goosebumps riddled my skin.
I don't like this. Where are the lights? Where is my dog?

As I passed the bathroom, an arm forcefully grabbed me around my neck from behind. I felt the cold metal of a blade against my skin and a man's voice filled my ear. “Be quiet and I won't slit your throat. Scream and it's all over.”

There wasn't a word strong enough to describe what fell over me in that moment. Every muscle seized, my breathing became short and rapid. Instinctively I reached up and grabbed his forearms.
Who is this? Why is he here? What does he want with me?

He pulled me in tighter against his chest and started to walk backwards toward the kitchen. “Don't fight back, got it?” The blade pressed firmly against my throat as he lit up a small flashlight.

I strained to speak. “Who
are
you?”

“Shut up!” He spat, pulling the knife away. “Try to run and I'll fucking kill you.” I heard him rustle something out of his pocket. The sound of duct tape being torn rang through my ears.

Think, Charlie, think. What can I do?
Thoughts popped like bubbles in champagne, rising in my mind. My training as a therapist took hold.
Talk to him, try to befriend him. Make him look at you like a person and not an object.

You have to do this for the baby.

“Why are you doing this?” I wanted to start off asking short, quick questions. See if I could get him to give me some information; try and piece together what his motives were.

“You're going to help me get something I need.” He tightened his grip around my neck.

“What do you need? Money? I can get you money.” I tried to keep my voice monotone and relaxed. I didn't want him to hear the terror I felt inside.

He released a loud, scratchy laugh. “You don't have the money I need, sweetheart. But, you're my ticket to getting it.” He yanked my arms behind me to bind them.

“You don't need to do that,” I said quickly. “I'm not going to run.” I twisted my head up to see his face. In the dimness of the flashlight only his profile was visible.

He wrapped my wrists tightly in the tape. “You bet your ass you ain't running. Now shut up and walk.” He pressed my arms into the small of my back and pushed me forward.

I stumbled forward. “How am I your ticket? If I don't have what you need then how can I help you get it?” I pushed my heels into the floor to slow down the pace.

He thrust harder against my arms. “Walk, and shut your mouth.” A pain seared up to my shoulder and I cringed. I felt the blade press firmly against my neck again, the tip only mere millimeters from actually piercing my flesh.

“You don't need to do this,” I said. ”Really, I'm sure there's another way! There has to be!” My feet dragged against the wood, trying to keep us in the house. I didn't want to go anywhere with this unstable stranger.

“
You're
my other way. You're my bargaining chip.” He leaned forward and opened the door. The knife lowered from my neck to the side of my stomach.

I had thought about running right there, but with the knife against my side, fear for my baby's safety hit strong.
Not yet, don't run yet. If you try to he could stab you.

He could kill you and the baby.

The unknown man stepped beside me and locked one arm into my elbow. From the corner of my eye I watched him glance around nervously before walking towards my car. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail, an unkempt beard fell down over his chin. Was I wrong, or did he look familiar?

As we approached the car I searched for anyone I could motion to for help. Every condo seemed lifeless. When he reached for the handle of the car door, I realized I didn't have my keys on me.

He can't drive without them. When he realizes that, he's going to have to go back in and I'll run. I'm not going to be held captive by some asshole for ransom.

And I'm definitely not going to risk my baby's life.

To my disbelief, he pulled my spare set from his back pocket. My shoulders dropped with despair at the sight.

He opened the back door and shoved me in, eyes still scanning our surroundings. I landed roughly, scooting towards the far window, away from him.
Be strong. Clear your head, Charlie.
“Where are we going? At least tell me that.” I started to push my questions. I needed answers.

“Didn't I tell you to shut up?” He climbed inside, starting the engine. The sound was like a chainsaw in my bones; every minute that went by, the more my chance at escape vanished.

“You did, but I still have questions. I think if you're going to use me I should get
some
answers. You can give me that, at least.” My eyes stayed firm on his in the rear-view mirror, I wasn't going to back down.

“I don't have to tell you shit. You mean nothing to me, but where we're going, you'll hold some weight.” A smile twisted up on one side of his face as he let out a wicked laugh.

Again, I felt like I'd seen him before, but I couldn't place it.
Is he someone from the prison? It's happened to other therapists before; a crazed, unstable inmate fixating on them.

Is that what this is?

I recalled a story where the woman's poor cat had been murdered and left on her doorstep by her stalker. My eyes welled up with the thought that he might have hurt Biscuit. “What did you do with my dog?”

“That little fucker is trapped in your closet. For a small dog he packs a sharp bite. Little shit bit me good. He's lucky I only kicked him.” He lifted the knife from the passenger seat, the cold metal glistening under the passing street lights.

Eyeballing the blade, I swallowed around my dry tongue. “Are you going to kill me?” It was a question that I figured wouldn't be answered honestly, but it was worth trying.

His smile broadened, but that was all.

I looked down at the floor and noticed a glow from under the passenger seat.
My phone.
I'd forgotten that I threw it there earlier.

My thoughts started to race.
I need to get it somehow!

His eyes locked on me in the mirror. I looked up quickly so I didn't draw attention to what I'd just realized. He didn't know it was there, and I didn't want him to find out.

I had to keep him talking, make him think and focus on my questions, not what I was doing. A sense of excitement and hope streamed through my body. “Why me?”

“Holy shit! You just don't fucking stop, do you? What part of shut up are you not understanding?” His fists clenched the wheel tighter, the car careening down a small one way street. I watched the phone slide out of view.

Shit! No!

I couldn't see it any longer, but maybe... maybe I could still reach it. It was the only chance I had, I just had to be patient.

Staring out the window, I watched the road signs pass. Knowing where we were headed would be helpful, but I didn't recognize this area. The terror in my body swelled with each turn of the wheel.

I had no idea what was in store for me.

Charlie

T
he street lights had disappeared some time ago.

I hadn't seen a house or building in a few miles. The deeper we went into the cover of the trees the more fearful I became.
Where is this guy taking me? He's driving into the middle of nowhere!

My eyes repeatedly shifted between his face in the mirror and under the seat. My phone hadn't come back into view, I wasn't sure how far under it had slid.
I need to get it, I could call for help if I could just reach it.
I dragged the edge of my foot around quietly under the seat.

I could see him watching me, taking in my every move. I didn't want him to become suspicious as I jostled around. If he started to think I was up to something, he might stop the car and look around, maybe find the phone. That was a risk I didn't want to take.

Quick, Charlie. Think.

“My arms are cramping up,” I said. My face scrunched with discomfort as I tried to adjust my position. “Can't you just loosen this? It's really tight.”

“Oh, your arms hurt, huh?” His voice was filled with a high pitched, teasing tone. “Well, too fucking bad.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Briefly, it had crossed my mind that this man might have kids of his own. If he was desperate enough to kidnap me for his own gains, maybe it was to help his family?
Knowing about the baby could pull whatever soul he has left to the surface. I can plead with him to just let me go, he might take pity on me and send me on my way.

But, he could also not give a shit. Nothing I say will matter if he thinks he has nothing left to lose. What can I do? I need to protect this child!

He started to fiddle around in the pocket of his jeans, he patted it roughly then moved to the next one. I watched him nervously, unsure of what he was looking for. Eventually, he made his way up to the breast pocket of his tattered army jacket and pulled a pack of cigarettes from it.

He tugged one out with his mouth, resting both arms on the wheel to light it. “Want one?” He lifted the pack over his shoulder and let out a laugh. “Oh, that's right, you're tied up at the moment.” The bearded man blew the smoke in my direction as he continued to chuckle.

“I wouldn't take one, anyway. I don't want anything from you.” I glared at him from the backseat, wishing my eyes could burn a hole through his skull. Hesitating, I grabbed for the one thing I thought I could use.
Let him have a conscience, please!
“I also don't want you blowing your toxic fumes at me. It's not good for the baby.”

The dashboard glow lit his eyes. They widened with surprise as his hand came down hard and smacked his knee. “Son of a bitch! You're pregnant?” Maniacal laughter exploded from his mouth, dissolving my hope. “Well, ain't that some shit. My brother went and got you knocked up! This is going to be good, then, really good!”

His brother?

No way, it can't be true.