Held & Pushed (2 book bundle) (5 page)

Consulting
his watch, he said, “I’m afraid I didn’t learn all I wanted to learn about you
and it’s getting late. I have many things to do before going to bed. But I
suppose there’ll be plenty of time to learn all I want about you, won’t there?”

I nodded,
fighting back tears.

He crossed
his left arm over his chest and brought his right arm up, placing his thumb
under his chin and his index finger over his lips. Clearly, he was thinking. I
was afraid to even imagine what was on his sick mind.

As if he
could read my mind, he said aloud, “I’m thinking that maybe you should stay up
here with me.” He looked at me to judge my reaction, but there wasn’t one. I
didn’t know where I’d rather be, other than home.

“Yes, the
basement is a nasty place, and I like you too much to put you down there.
Yet, anyway.”
He smiled. I didn’t.

He
unlocked the cuff from the kitchen table, but not from my wrist. He held it tightly
and pulled me up. He held my shackled wrist in one hand and put his other arm
around me, squeezing my shoulder slightly as he led me down the hallway.

“You know,
if you let me go right now, I’ll never tell.”

“Now you
and I both know that’s not true, Nicole. That’s the first thing you would do.”

We kept
walking down the hallway, past the basement door, past the bathroom door. At
the end of the hall was a door on each side. We stopped and stood while he
thought aloud again.

“Let’s
see. Would you like to sleep with me, or alone?”

“Alone,” I
said quickly. The thought of sleeping with him sent a chill down my spine and a
ripple through my stomach.

“Yes, I
suppose for now you may sleep alone. But it won’t always be that way,” he said
and kissed the top of my head. If I threw up now, my heart would surely come up
with the sandwich and the vodka because it had beaten its way right out of its
place in my chest. It felt like it was flapping around in circles. I did my
best to show no fear.

“Come on
then,” he said and led me through the door on the left. This left me assuming
that the door on the right was the door to his bedroom. I fought to keep away
the images of what his room must be like.

He turned
on the light and I looked around the room. There were two windows, one on the
end wall and the other on the back wall. Both had blinds and heavy drapes so I
couldn’t see out, and so no one could see in.

The walls
were beige, the ceiling was white, and the trim around the windows, doors,
floor and ceiling was white. On the floor was a cream-colored carpet.

The bed
looked to be a queen size with a metal headboard and footboard that resembled a
wrought iron fence. On the bed was a burgundy comforter with matching pillow
shams and a lot of pillows. On each side of the bed was a nightstand. On each
nightstand was a black lamp with a beige shade.

Across the
room was a large armoire. On the wall opposite the bed was a dresser, over
which hung a large mirror. Other than a few paintings hanging on the walls,
that was it. It was a simple, beautiful room. The man was a sadistic psycho,
but he was a hell of a decorator and housekeeper. As was the case in all the
other rooms, there wasn’t a speck of dust or dirt to be seen. That made the
woman in the basement an even bigger mystery. She’d been filthy, so unlike
everything else I’d seen so far.

Ron led me
into the room and over to the bed. He turned me to face him. With the bed
touching the back of my legs and him standing only inches in front of me, I
wanted to panic. I needed to panic. I felt it rising up in me. No good could
come of this.

Still
holding my shackled wrist in his hand, he said, “You’re not going to like this,
I’m sure. But it has to be done. Take off your shoes,” he ordered.

Without
breaking eye contact, I put the toes of one foot on the heel of the other and
pushed my shoe off my foot. I repeated the process for the other shoe while he
watched.

“Now would
you like to unfasten your jeans or would you like me to?”

“Why do
they need to be unfastened at all?”

“You can’t
sleep in your clothes.” He smiled.

“Yeah, I
can. Let’s do that.”

“No, let’s not.
Take them off. It’s not becoming for a woman to sleep in her clothes. Besides,
wouldn’t you be more comfortable without the restrictions of your clothes?
Without the tight fabric stretched taut across your delicate skin?” He ran his
fingers down my side as he spoke, and I don’t think I just imagined the lusty
tone in his voice.

“No, I
think I’m good with leaving them on.”

“Take them
off or I will take them off,” he barked.

It scared
me, so against all my judgment, I unbuttoned my jeans. Not wanting to see the
angry side of him, I unzipped them and pushed them down. Still holding my
wrist, he bent over with me as I pulled the jeans off my feet. When I stood, I
still had hopes that he wouldn’t order me to take off anything else. I was
wrong, and not for the first time that day.

“Take off
your shirt.”

“I don’t
see why—”

“Take it
off,” he barked again. His voice, when raised to that level, was very painful
on the ears. The bass in his voice rattled my chest and my already frayed
nerves.

I pulled
my left arm out of the sleeve. He let go of my right wrist long enough for me
to pull my arm through the sleeve, then he cupped it back in his big hand. I
pulled the t-shirt over my head and held it in front of my chest.

He pulled
the shirt away from me and laid it on the nightstand.
“Now
the bra.”

I thought
about protesting, but if the third time really was the charm, then it would be
a stupid thing to do. So I reached behind me with my left hand and popped the
clasp on the bra. I slid my arms out while he watched. He took the bra from me
as soon as I was free of it, tossing it on the table with my shirt.

He leaned
back and stared at my nearly naked body, which I tried to cover with the one
free arm I had.

“You
shouldn’t try to hide yourself. You have a wonderful body. You should be proud
of it.”

“You were
just saying that I shouldn’t be promiscuous.” I reminded him. I said it lightly
and quietly, hoping that if said in the proper tone, it wouldn’t send him into
a rage.

“That’s
why I like you so much. You keep me on my toes,” he said and leaned into me.

I stood
there, naked except for my socks and panties, and he gently kissed my neck. Had
he been my boyfriend or husband, this would’ve been nice. But he was a madman
who’d kidnapped me, and it was horrible.

Over and
over, he kissed me softly on the neck, still holding my right wrist in his left
hand. I wanted to cry, but was sure that if I did, he’d show his angry side. So
I bit my lip and held it back. When I felt him cup my left breast, I nearly
lost it. But somehow, I managed to keep it together.

After a
few minutes of that, he pulled away from me slowly and smiled.

“Time for bed.”
He reached behind me and pulled back the comforter. I felt him tossing pillows
out of the way.

I was
frozen. All I could think about was how it would be to have his large body atop
me, raping me. I was too scared to move.

“Come on,”
he said. “Get into bed. I’ve got a lot of things to do.”

He pushed
me backward until my knees gave and I fell onto the bed. Amazingly, he still
held my wrist. He turned me around so that my head was on the pillows. Then, he
got up on his knees beside me on the bed.

My heart
raced. This was it.

He pulled
my arms up over my head and clasped the handcuff behind a bar of the headboard
and around my other wrist. I was shackled to the bed now.

With my
arms held above my head by the cuffs, he didn’t have to hold onto my wrist. He
sat up on his knees and drank me in with his eyes. When he leaned down toward
me, I nearly screamed. As he kissed each of my breasts, I squeezed my eyes shut
and pretended I was anywhere but here.

The
movements of him getting off the bed made me open my eyes. I was afraid that I
would find him standing
beside
the bed undressing.
Instead, I found him walking to the end of the bed where he pulled off each of
my socks. He then, pulled the comforter up on my body, covering my exposed
breasts. I relaxed a little. I was sure that at some point, he was going to
have me, but it didn’t look like it was going to be tonight.

“Sleep
tight, Nicole.”

He smiled
and turned, flicking off the light before leaving the room. He left the door
open, which I didn’t care for at all. I would’ve preferred it closed, so as to
have some sort of warning if he sneaked into the room in the middle of the
night.

Alone now,
I saw no reason to keep holding back my tears and my panic, so I let loose. I
cried silently so as to not alert him, but I cried hard and long. I was crying
when I heard him walking down the steps to the basement, and an eternity later
when I heard him coming back up the steps, I was still crying.

The tears
weren’t just for me. They weren’t tears of self-pity.
At
least not all of them.
They were tears for my husband, Wade, and for my
son, Mason. Mason was only one year old. One year and one month. He wouldn’t
even remember me if I never came back. Wade would have to teach him about me
from photographs and stories. It made me sad to think that I might not be there
for all of his firsts. His first day of school, losing his first tooth, his
first girlfriend, it all made me sad.

And Wade.
How
long would he grieve for me? How long would he wait before he went on and found
someone else? Would he pick someone like me? Would she love Mason as much as I
did? Would she love and take care of Wade as much as I did?

I cried
myself to sleep that night, and it was to be the first of many nights like it.

Chapter 8

When I
woke the next morning, I was startled by Ron’s presence. He stood at the side
of the bed, hands in the pockets of his khaki slacks, staring at me with a
smile on his face. It was creepy.

“Good
morning,” he said. “I trust that you slept well.”

I tried to
rub the sleep from my eyes, but of course I couldn’t. My hands were handcuffed,
and as if that wasn’t bad enough, my arms were asleep.

“Here, let
me help you.” He placed a knee on the bed and leaned over. He removed the
handcuffs from my wrists and brought my arms down. The pain was sharp and
sudden and made me gasp. My shoulders were stiff and sore from being in that
position all night. “Do you need a moment?” he asked.

With my
arms at my sides, I nodded. Moments later, as the blood began to circulate
through my arms and hands, the tingling started. It was painful, feeling as if
millions of needles were being poked into my skin over and over.

I tried
not to show that it hurt, but I winced and gasped more than once, giving me
away.

“I’m sorry
about that. I would like very much if I didn’t have to do that, but I’m afraid
I can’t trust you. Maybe tonight we can figure out another way that will cause
you less pain.”

I lay
there waiting on the tingling to subside and hating the thought of spending
another night, another day, even another second in this house with him. But I
saw no way out.

“Okay,
let’s go,” he said, holding my wrist. “Let’s get up and shower and get ready
for the day.”

Slowly, I
slid myself to the edge of the bed and stood. I brought my aching arm up and
rubbed my eyes as I followed Ron down the hall to the bathroom. He turned on
the light and stepped aside, letting me enter.

“I’ll
leave you alone, but I’m right outside this door. You should have everything
you need. If not, let me know.” He smiled.

I went
into the bathroom and shut the door. Instinctively, I reached for the lock, but
there wasn’t one. At least there was a door between us, even if I couldn’t lock
it. Looking around, I saw my clothes, folded neatly and stacked on the counter
beside the sink. My bra was on top. I picked it up and brought it to my nose.
Inhaling deeply, I smelled a laundry detergent that I didn’t use. He’d washed
my clothes.

Beside the
clothes were many personal hygiene items.
A towel, a washcloth,
a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, and a comb.

After peeing,
I slipped out of my panties and carried the towel and washcloth to the bathtub.
There was no towel bar, so I draped the towel over the shower curtain rod. I
stepped into the tub and pulled close the curtain. I looked to the shelf in the
corner and saw a new bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo. He’d thought of
everything.

I washed
thoroughly, making sure to wash twice where he’d touched and kissed me.

After the
shower, I stood in front of the sink and put on my bra, then my t-shirt. I had
been debating whether I wanted to wear my panties again, but when I saw a fresh
pair of panties lying on my jeans, I knew I didn’t have to. I pulled them on,
and then my jeans. Once dressed, I brushed my teeth and combed my hair.