Strapped Down (26 page)

Eric rolls his eyes. “Taylor’s not right Shyla. You may not see it, but he’s not.”

“And that justifies killing him?”

“You couldn’t possibly understand what it was like growing up with him. He was like a child of the corn. And then my dad, choosing him over me, it was a slap in the face because ever since he came into the picture that’s all my father ever did.”

“But that’s not Taylor’s fault.”

“Taylor is no saint.”

“I know, but he’s no monster either.”

“Shyla, he is capable of becoming a monster when it suits him, I promise. Anyway, we’re getting off track here. After being gone for so long, I decided enough was enough. I wanted to see if somehow he and I could coexist again. I missed my parents, my mother thinks I just abandoned the family.” For a moment, I feel for him: Nan’s cold indifference towards her drifter son. “So I came back a little over a year ago, to H.I. As I was walking into the lobby, I saw a pretty girl, she looked so sad, talking to someone just out of my view. Eventually, he stepped out from behind a pillar and I saw it was Taylor. I hid, I could tell by watching that if his mood was already sour, and if he saw me, there would be no chance at reconciliation. They were having a discussion, well it looked like he was telling her something. She kept nodding, and then he just walked away from her, when she was in mid-sentence. As though her words were worthless, as if she was just made of thin air. God, she looked so sad when he turned his back on her. Em stood there frozen, in disbelief. Her hands were stuck in the middle of a gesture. I think it finally registered who she was dealing with at that moment. She slowly dropped her hands and started to calmly walk towards the exit, but then she started to run, just sobbing. And I couldn’t help myself, to see how he made this girl cry like that. I wanted to know who Taylor had become, and she seemed to be the perfect person to give me insight. I followed her out onto the sidewalk, and I approached her. I asked her what was wrong. She was hesitant at first, but we went to a park and talked.”

“She didn’t know you were Taylor’s brother?”

“No, never. I had been using Evan as an alias for a couple of years before that, running my businesses under that name. I wanted nothing to do with the Holden name for a while. It was easy to keep that identity up. Eric Holden didn’t exist in the world of Evan Sumner and vice versa.”

“And then?”

“And then, she and I became close quickly. I couldn’t be with her and be a Holden, so I decided to forget about coming back home. She confirmed that nothing about Taylor had changed, it just morphed. His need to control, his ownership of those around him. Once he found the slightest imperfection in a person, he disposed of them like garbage. And the things he made her do…” Eric drifts away for a moment. “Our relationship was a whirlwind. We moved up by her parents, and I thought, fuck it, I don’t need Taylor or my parents, I could start over. In the end, they chose Taylor over me. At least my father did. But Taylor, fucking Taylor, he ruined everything, as he always does. He stole her from me long before I even met her.”

“She never got over him.” I say.
I know Em, I know how impossible it would be for you to get over Taylor.

“Oh it was far worse than that. Sure, she never got over him, but she also never got over the person she became for him. She was a small town girl, her eyes were big over the hot-shot Taylor Holden, and he took her and used her in ways most people can’t ever imagine, and then when he was finished with her, discarded her like a rotten piece of meat.”
Oh how the same story sounds so different coming from another person’s mouth.

“Well, did he force her?”

“No. But, he manipulated her. And Shyla, I am fucking warning you, you need to watch out for yourself. I have been trying to warn you, he is not who you think he is.”

“Eric, with all due respect, I am so sorry for what happened to Emily, but Taylor has always been very clear about his lifestyle and he has been with me from the beginning. You don’t understand our relationship. You couldn’t possibly understand the history we share.”

“You know, Em thought she saw something in him too, but when it was over, he sucked the innocence right out of her.”

“But he left her.”

“Well, yes.”

“So she would have stayed with him. It was the fact that he left her that made her so upset.”

“Wow, he really has you. It’s the fact that once he was done with her, she was nothing to him. It’s like he has no soul.”

“Well, you don’t know the Taylor I know.”

“Oh, sure. He’s just a bundle of warmth and joy.”

“No, he’s Taylor. Someone who has suffered things you and I can only imagine, and despite it all has been able to become an amazing human being.”

“Wow.
Amazing?
That’s one way to put it. Do you know what he did to Em? Maybe he does this stuff with you, maybe not. I have to admit, you seem to be special to him. You still have that spark in your eyes, like he hasn’t sucked out all of your dignity yet. When people are an inconvenience to Taylor, he discards them, but not with you.”

I stare intently.

“He dehumanized Em. Sure, she worked in his office, but every night when they came home, she stripped down to her naked body and he put a collar on her, he literally walked her around like a pet.”

I hold in a wince. Taylor has told me about his subs in the general sense, but hearing the details from Eric, he says it with such a distaste, as if he has sour milk in his mouth.

“She couldn’t look at him or talk to him unless he permitted her to do so. He fed her, bathed her, kept her locked up in his little dungeon room whenever he didn’t need her.”

“But he never imprisoned her. She could leave at any time.” I hear my voice outside of myself, as if I am listening to some stranger defend Taylor.

“And then,” Eric pauses for a moment, his pale, freckled face flushes with rage. “He would give her away, like a trading card. Watch as other men had her, defiled her, did things to her that would make her shiver months later. Sometimes he would just give her away for a whole weekend. When she asked him why, he would just say ‘because it pleases me.’”

I bite the inside of my lip.

“He doesn’t do that with you, does he?”

I don’t answer.

“No, he wants you all to himself. If I were another man, I would do things to you to get back at him, but I’m not.”
How noble of you, Eric.

“You already have.”

“No. Listen to me: no.”

I roll my eyes.

“I don’t know what he’s told you about me. Yes, I may have crossed the line with him years ago, but I have paid for that. That’s the only thing I’ve really done wrong. Taylor hates me because I challenge him. I call him on his bullshit. He could never handle that.”

I bite my tongue. There’s no point in arguing with his claims of innocence.

“You know what else he would do to Em? He would fuck other women, he knew she didn’t like that, but he would make her watch. Just to make her jealous. He would make her do things just to exert his control over her, like make her shoplift from convenience stores. Just so he could feel the thrill of telling her what to do.”

“But she could leave whenever she wanted.” I recite the line like a drone.

“Listen, I didn’t care, that’s how much I loved her. I just wanted to move on. And we were happy for a while, we were, but then the cracks started to show…she started to drink. At first it was here and there, but then I started finding hidden bottles around the house. She slept the days away. Cried when she was awake. Told me I couldn’t love her, that she was used up and worthless. No matter what I said, she wouldn’t believe it.”
I wonder if she wanted him to tell her she was, so she could feel the way Taylor once made her feel.
“I got her to go rehab, and we were back on track, we started planning for a family, but one night, she left her email account open, and god I wish I hadn’t looked…”

“What?”

His emotions begin to pour out of him. The pain seems to be as raw as the day he first saw those messages. “She was sending Taylor messages everyday. Begging him to take her back. That she would do anything to be his again. That she would be his slave all over again if he would just take her back and I fucking lost it. There was so much detail, and she sent him pictures. He wouldn’t reply and so each email got more desperate, more pathetic and lowly. The things she promised she would do to get him back…We got into an argument, she left the house, and well, I guess you know what happened.”

By this time tears are streaming down Eric’s cheeks, his face flushed from remorse and sadness. And dammit, I don’t want to, but I feel so badly for him, for the love who would never love him back, at least not like she loved Taylor; and for the child he would never see. Em was to Eric as Taylor was to Em. Like a mist, he could see her and yet he couldn’t get a hold of her. Against all common sense, I walk over to his side of the table and I rub his shoulder. Because it will make him trust me, and because it’s the right thing to do. He grabs my hand, leaning his cheek on it. His quiet cry progresses to sobs, the warm, thick tears falling onto my hand.

“Shyla, I lost everything that day. He destroyed her. She could never stop being his slave, she couldn’t get out of his grasp,” he says between sobs. “She was going to have our child. I didn’t know, I’m not even sure she knew yet. I would have never let her storm out like that.” But I know, I know that it wouldn’t have mattered. He would have had a shell of Em. I know what it’s like to be with a person who loves you with all of their heart, but who makes you feel numb. For all the vileness, for all the depravity he sees in Taylor, Taylor has a way of making us feel alive; born anew. But I can’t say these words to him: that Em never really loved him back, that he was convenient: he was the guy she was supposed to love, and so she went along with the picture book romance, all the while, her essence was slowly dying. It’s a bitch, knowing that the right person for you is the most dangerous. When Taylor wouldn’t have her. it was like a death sentence to her soul.

To watch this large hunk of a man crumple in front of me, full of so much devastation, overwhelms me, and I begin to cry with him. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I am so sorry,” I say and he wraps his arms around me and cries into my waist. I don’t know what to do other than to accept his embrace and stroke his hair. “Shyla, I didn’t rape you. I’m not that kind of guy,” he says. My brain spins with so many conflicting thoughts and emotions that I don’t know what to do other than live in this moment. Part of it is self preservation, but some of it is pure empathy for this destroyed man in front of me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Once Eric composes himself, I drift onto the bed adjacent to his seat at the table. Our knees nearly touch, we are so close.

“Eric, I feel for you. I really do, but Em was her own person and she made all the decisions that led her to where she ended up.”

“We are going to disagree fundamentally here. If it wasn’t for him, she’d be here. He fucked her head up. You can’t manipulate people like that and get away with it.”

“If it wasn’t for him, you would have never met her.”

“Well it would still have been for the better.”

“So that’s why you came back, when I met you?”

“Yeah, after she died I wanted Taylor to pay. He has stolen everything from me Shyla. H.I. should have been mine, and then Em. My career and my love. My child. What does a man have left but vengeance? So, I went to do some recon, and I found out he recently hired a new assistant.”

“That’s why you scoped me out at the bar?”

“Yeah, I had no idea you would look like you do. Then again, I should have known with my brother. Of course, shortly after talking to you, when you said you were looking for a new job, I figured you were done at H.I. But shit, Shyla, I liked you a lot. I thought we had chemistry. It had been a long time since I just talked to someone, I used to be that kind of guy, but after Em died, I closed up.”

I nod.
Eric has always been so emotional, Randall said.

“Then you told me he was your boyfriend and I thought, not another one. Not another girl he’ll just chew up and spit out before he moves on to the next one. And it threw my plans for a loop.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted to warn you and I wanted to fuck with his head; I got emotional instead of methodical. I couldn’t use you to get back at him by harming you because I didn’t want to hurt you. Not after I met you.”

“So instead you did the next best thing. Had sex with me and sent Taylor the dvd.”

“No. I didn’t. Whoever did that to you, it wasn’t me, and I wouldn’t put it past Taylor to use you to set me up.”

“No, that’s bullshit. It makes no sense.”

“Well look what’s transpired since. I’m a fugitive now. Short of killing me, he almost found a way to eliminate me. Shyla, Taylor is a genius of the worst kind. He is always several steps ahead.”

“No. No, I refuse to believe that. You weren’t there when he found out. You didn’t see his face.”

“Taylor walks around in a mask every day. You think he can’t put on a show when need be?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Eric pauses and steers the tone of the conversation in a different direction. “You know, saving you, it gave me a new purpose. It was like somehow I could make up for what happened to Em if I could save you from Taylor.”

“I am sorry about Emily, but I’m not her. You don’t need to save me. We’re happy. You coming back is the only thing that has fucked with everything.”

“Well, I can’t just forget about all of this for you Shyla. At this point I realize I can’t convince you that Taylor is disturbed. I need to settle things with him anyway. He has to know what he did and take responsibility for it. And at least for tonight, he will get to know the feeling of what it is like to lose someone he loves, if he’s even capable of loving. Ultimately, he has to pay.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“So what are you going to do? Shoot him?”

“That’s one question I won’t answer.”

“Please Eric, don’t hurt him. I can’t live with the guilt of him getting hurt because of me.”

“It would be because of him.”

“I am begging you.”

“Shyla, this is not up for discussion. The stars have aligned to bring us all together, and I won’t let Taylor get away with killing Em.”

“He didn’t kill her. She killed herself.”

“Don’t talk about Em like you knew her.” Eric says firmly. His easy nature makes me forget I still am a hostage, but at that moment I am quickly reminded.

“So here we are then,” I say, subdued.

“Here we are. Shyla. You’re going to be fine.”

“If you hurt him, I will never be fine. Never.”

We sit for a few moments in contemplative silence. “Can you humor me for a moment?”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, Eric. Allow me to humor you.”

“Remember what I said in your bedroom? If things were different. If we really were two strangers who met in a bar, do you think you and I would at least have had a little something?”

“You mean if I didn’t believe that you stalked me and tricked me into sex?”
I can’t believe I am joking about this.
Eric rolls his eyes. “Well…you know you’re good looking. Those fucking Holden genes. A blessing and a curse.”
Ingratiate him Shyla.

Eric smirks.

“So is that a yes?”

“Sure. I guess in another galaxy, a parallel universe, we could have, ya know…”

“I knew it wasn’t just me.”

“Don’t go getting any ideas. That was a massive hypothetical.”

“You kissed me back.”

“No I did not. You scared the shit out of me and I let you kiss me because I thought I was going to die.”

“Sorry about that. I would never hurt you. I had no intentions of hurting you that day. You have to excuse me, I was a little frantic, your sweet boyfriend had my ass whopped pretty severely and I was a little out of sorts.”

“Well can you blame him?”

“That was a farewell ass-whoop for being back in town, a little farewell gift before being dropped off at the airport. It’s a Taylor Holden hug.”

“But his hunch was right, that you were here to hurt him in some way.”

Eric shrugs. “Back to the kiss,” he says with boyish charm.

“You are something else.”

“I know,” he winks.
He looks so much like Taylor when he does that and it freaks me out.

I suck my teeth.

“What if it’s my last night on Earth? What if I were to die tomorrow?” He asks.

“Don’t say that.”
Why do I give a shit?

“What if it is?”

“I don’t know.”

“If you knew you would never see me again and Taylor would never know. Would you kiss me again?”

“I never kissed you. You kissed me.” I remember the dream I had with him in a world with no consequences and the sex was so fucking good.

“Tomato, to-mah-to.”

I shake my head disapprovingly. “Sorry Eric, I’m in love with Taylor.”

“Your loss,” he says standing up with a casual confidence both Holdens seem to have mastered. “Listen, I am going to shower, you’re welcome to join me. I don’t want to tie you up, but I am going to leave the door open to keep my eye on you. I have no problem chasing after you naked and I will catch you. Let’s keep the cooperation going, okay? This is for Taylor’s benefit too.” Just to make sure I have no chance of getting far, he slides the table in front of the door.

Eric starts walking over to the bathroom, leaving his cell phone on the table. This could be my chance to call Taylor and let him know I am okay. “One more thing,” Eric says spinning on his heels as he swoops back to grab his phone and his gun.
Well, shit.

He pulls off his shirt overhead and throws it on the bed. After that, he pulls his belt buckle loose and whips the belt from his jeans. I try to divert my eyes in this tiny hotel room, but it’s nearly impossible not to see his shirtless body. He grins, getting a kick out of this just like a Holden would.

Next, he drops his pants, and his tall athletic physique is standing in front of me in a pair of white boxer briefs. Apparently, he too packs the Holden heat. I should feel threatened that Eric may try something, but his tone is playful. So much like the Eric I thought I knew before the rape. He’s trying to tease me, not force himself upon me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be kinky?” He asks. “And you’re getting shy over some nudity?

“Oh come on.” I say. “I’m a free spirit and all, but what do you want me to do? Ogle you?”

“Doesn’t bother me one bit,” he says flirtatiously.

I give in, convincing myself it would be much less awkward to acknowledge him than to keep looking at the water-damaged ceilings of this dump.

“I’m looking at you. See? Big whoop!”

He smiles the Holden smile.

Alright, I’m going in. “Enjoy the show,” he says as he whips his briefs off.

“Oh my god,” I say, covering my mouth.

“I am so unimpressed. I had no idea you’d be such a prude,” he says, walking off into the bathroom, his pale, taut butt cheeks reverberating with each step.

Eric turns the shower on, steam quickly enveloping the bathroom and spreading out into the bedroom. “You’re steaming the place up,” I complain.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Oh shut it.”

He whips the curtains off to the side, leaving them open to keep an eye on me. Then he steps into the shower. The steamy water cascades over the curvature of his body.
These fucking Holdens and their perfect bodies.
He makes a thick lather from the hotel room soap and rubs it all over his body, including his package, taking extra time there as if to taunt me, circling his hand around his dick and cleaning it as if he was jerking
off
. Afterward, he steps back under the shower head, the stream of water rinsing the suds off of his wet, firm body. He steps out completely naked, his towel over his shoulder
,
back out into the common area.

“You’re getting the carpet wet.”
That’s probably the cleanest thing that has happened to this carpet in 30 years.

“I have to keep a close eye on you. You’re welcome to shower too, but same rules about the door apply to you,” he says as he dries himself off.

“No thanks, I’ll just stink up the place.”

“Whatever,” he shrugs.

As he dresses, I sit in silence, wondering if cooperation is the right tactic. What if I go along, and he just uses me to lure Taylor and kill him? I know Taylor wants me to rely on him, let him take care of things, but in the current circumstances, I am not sure Taylor’s rules apply. What can I really do at this point? If I run, he’ll catch me. I haven’t heard a peep from anyone one else in this motel; we are in the middle of nowhere. He separated his gun and bullets, so even if I got a hold of one, I’d have to get a hold of the other, which would be miraculous. Cooperation is my only choice for now and I pray that Taylor has something up his sleeve.

“You know, people are going to start looking for me. I was supposed to come to work today.”

“I’m sure Taylor handled everything. He knows it’s important that no one knows about this.” His last sentence sends a bolt of fear through my body that almost makes me jump. How could he let me walk away tomorrow? I made him. How can he be sure I won’t tell the police everything I know? The smart thing for him to do would be to kill me and Taylor, then he could go on and do whatever the hell he wants.

“What will you do after tomorrow? After this is all over?”

“I don’t make plans that far ahead. I focus on the mission at hand.” Taylor is methodical, Eric is emotional. I am not yet sure which one is more dangerous.

“Eric, I am begging you, please don’t hurt Taylor. You will ruin me if you do.”

Eric agitates the thin, worn towel against his wet hair, pretending not to hear me. He walks it over to the bathroom and neatly puts it on its rack. If there was any place where towels on the floor would be acceptable, it would be in this hellhole.

“You tired?”

“More like wired,” I say.

“We should go to bed soon, at least try. Early wake up tomorrow.”

“What time?”

“I’ll wake you.”

“As if I could sleep.”

Eric shrugs, his mood more solemn than earlier, but not alarmingly so. There is only one bed and I hope that he remains as much of a gentleman as he has been this entire time. The mattress is thin, the springs permanently compressed, so far from its heyday as a thick, plush mattress. There are no headboards to tie me to. I watch Eric examine the area with his eyes, trying to figure out the setup.

“Okay, I am going to cuff you to me. If you sneeze, if you so much as try to scratch your ass, I will feel it.”

“No,” I say, knowing it is pointless.

“I could tape you up, but that wouldn’t be very comfortable for you.”

I accept my fate.

He grabs the clicker for the shitty, circa 1990 television which has about 13 channels and points to my spot on the bed, furthest from the door. I reluctantly slide over, never letting my scowl leave him as I do so. He plops next to me, wincing after discovering how flat the mattress is, and throws one cuff on my right wrist. The sound of metal clinking informs me that I am resigned to be his prisoner for the night. Then he does the same on his left. He takes the empty gun from his waistband and puts it in the nightstand drawer, he waves the handcuff keys in front of me and shoves them down the front of his boxer briefs.
He would.