Chapter 48 – Chelsea
Christian begins talking to me as he ties one of my ankles to the heavy cutting table beside the chair.
“You thought you could just turn me down and I’d forget all about it, didn’t you?” he asks.
I shake my head but since I can’t say anything in return, he just goes right on talking.
“I put myself out there, and I took the risk that your dad would kick me off the team. I might never be able to play football anywhere else again. But I still asked you out. Because that’s how much I knew I wanted to be with you.”
He glares at me, obviously hating me now while professing how much he used to like me.
“When you told me you couldn’t disobey Daddy Dearest I was hurt, but I figured, ‘Well, that makes sense. She has to worry about the risks just as I do. And she hasn’t discovered how we’re supposed to be together yet. As time goes by, she’ll realize there’s no other guy for her and eventually we’ll get together. Maybe even at the end of senior year, or after graduation, when they can’t do anything against us.’”
Wow.
He really had quite the Romeo and Juliet fantasy going on about him and me. I never realized he’d liked me that much.
I almost feel sorry for him, but then I realize he has me bound and tied up at my own family’s fishing cabin. He obviously has more than a couple screws loose, and I can’t put much weight into anything he says.
“But then Wesley Reynolds comes along to steal my thunder in every way possible. I was the star of the show on the field and off before he arrived.”
I look at him funny, and he says, “Oh, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Yes Christian, you were the star player on the team prior to Wesley’s arrival, but you were the running back. On a team with a bad quarterback. On a team that never wins games. So now you had the opportunity to be a good running back on a winning team with a great quarterback.’ But guess who gets all the credit and all the glory in that scenario?”
I just look at him.
“The fucking quarterback. That’s who. I was better off being a big fish in a small pond. Now I’m just a nobody.”
As he whines on and on, I think about how crazy it is that Wesley and I were just gutting fish in this very chair, and now I’m being held captive by a psychopath. My only hope is that my dad gets here soon. Although I’m pretty sure that Christian has a plan to deal with Dad if he does arrive. Somehow Christian knew I’d be here so he probably knows my dad is supposed to be here too.
And then I remember that the knife we were using to gut the fish would still be on the ground. I look around, and sure enough, I see it glistening in the grass not too far away, partially obscured by the table I’m tied to.
“And I’m clearly a nobody to you too,” Christian continues.
I quickly lift my eyes back up to his face and act interested in what he’s saying, so that he won’t figure out what I was just looking at.
“Because when Wesley came along, you quickly forgot all about Daddy Dearest’s rules. That was clearly only an excuse you wanted to use with me, not with the great and powerful Wesley.”
I try my best to look sympathetic, while trying to devise a plan of escape in my head that will give me enough time to distract Christian and get away from him.
I’m glad that he just continues talking. He must be oblivious to the knife’s existence. I’m beginning to realize that Christian isn’t the most observant guy. He only likes to focus on himself. And I can definitely use this fact in my favor.
“At first, I figured that Wesley would dig his own grave quickly enough. He’s always good at screwing things up for himself. And sure enough, right away he changed the coach’s call. He was disobedient and disrespectful. But did your dad care? No. Somehow he seemed to like Wesley even more.”
That’s Wesley, I think.
“So then, I had to get a bit more involved. I tried to screw Wesley over by pretending to help him on his math test but really only setting him up to fail.”
He announces this act in a bragging voice.
What an asshole.
“But that didn’t work either. He got yet another chance. Golden Boy can do no wrong. So I had to get even more involved. And now I have him where I want him— caught red-handed with a bunch of drugs in his locker.”
I just stare at him.
“I bet you’re wondering how I accomplished that feat,” Christian says, still bragging.
I wasn’t but I have no choice but to listen to his explanation anyway.
“It wasn’t very hard. I just told him I’d forgotten the key to the lock on my locker one day and asked if I could put some stuff in his. When he said sure and gave me his key, I made a copy of it so that I could plant the drugs later. What an idiot.”
You’re the idiot, I want to tell him, as I think about the knife on the ground that he completely missed.
“I’d like to see him wiggle his way out of this,” Christian continues. “And now Mandy is in a coma because of a drug overdose, and everyone thinks that Mandy bought them from him.”
I can’t believe how cold he is.
“The coma was just a surprise bonus,” he says. “Sure, I sold Mandy drugs— it was easy. Just get her drinking and she’ll try anything. But I didn’t know she was so clueless that she’d mix up a bunch of them together and put herself into a coma. Apparently it was her first time and my mistake was assuming she was a pro.”
Poor Mandy.
“I wanted her to get drugged up enough to where I could have her call your dad and say she was on drugs that Wesley had sold her. Instead she just passed the fuck out. But fine. Now people will just think Wesley caused her coma. And then people will hear about poor Chelsea too, but in the context of being just another of Wesley’s victims.”
So that’s his plan. To set Wesley up as the perpetrator of my demise. This guy sinks even lower than I thought anyone could sink.
“But first I’m going to take what was supposed to be mine. You.”
He takes a step towards me, and my heart pounds with fear. But then he pauses, looking around.
“Fuck. Where’s the other rope? I know I just had it. To tie up your other foot, so there’s no way you can get away from me. It was right here…”
This guy should be on one of those episodes of Stupid Criminals.
He walks backwards, retracing his steps, and finally turns around to look behind him and find the rope.
Here’s my opportunity.
It’s now or never.
I stand up, bringing the chair with me since I’m attached to it. Then I pull one of my wrists out of the rope. Luckily, it comes free.
Obviously this idiot didn’t go to boy scouts— or fishing camp— and he has no idea how to tie a good knot.
“What the—?” Christian begins, coming back over to where I am, without having found his other piece of rope.
I do a quick side lunge and grab the knife. I never thought my gymnastics classes and cheerleading moves would come in handy to this extent.
I slice the rope that was holding my ankle to the chair so that I’m free. Then I hold the knife up in front of Christian.
“Woah. Hey there,” Christian says, backing up from me. “Take it easy. We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Of course we don’t,” I mock him, leveling the knife right in front of his face. “But I’m going to need you to switch places with me. All I’ll do is tie you up the way you were trying to tie me up, but I’ll do a much better job of it.”
“Chelsea, please…” he begins, but I slap the tape over his mouth.
“No more talking. You’ve done enough of that.”
He lunges at me and I instinctively lower the knife, making contact with the top of his thigh.
He makes a muffled scream underneath the tape and tears spring to his eyes.
“Oh you’re fine,” I tell him, sitting him down on the chair and wrapping his wrists with the same piece of rope that he had inexpertly used on me. “It’s just a surface wound.”
He moans, but I ignore him as I tie up one of his ankles.
What a drama queen.
“You really will be fine. Which is good because you need to go to jail now,” I tell him.
I bend down and scoop up something else I’ve had my eye on the whole time.
“Oh, and by the way, your other piece of rope is right over here where you left it. It’ll be perfect for me to use on your other ankle.”