Chapter 7

 

 

The kidnappers’ toilet turned out to be a ratty wooden cubicle built over a hole in the ground. Belinda thought it was taking the whole experience a step too far. Would the kidnapping have felt less authentic if they had a proper toilet? She didn’t think so.

Someone had strung some storm lamps throughout the camp, and the dull yellow glow gave barely enough light inside the toilet hut. She looked in the hole. Eyes shone out at her. Oh no. Just no. There was no way she was baring her backside to whatever was down there. She would just hold it until the rescue, because seriously, how long would it take? They already knew where she was being held.

After a suitable amount of time had passed to make him think she’d used the facilities, Belinda called for the guard. With a bored jerk of his head, he motioned for her to follow him back across the compound to her cell. She desperately wanted to question him about his role in the fake kidnapping, but she knew she couldn’t break character. She’d done that enough already, and it was clear it wasn’t allowed.

The setup of the camp was impressive. If she didn’t know it was fake, she would have totally believed it. In fact, it was so authentic that a niggling thought started jabbing at her brain, telling her it was real. Could John be right? Had they really been kidnapped?

Walking across the uneven ground was tough in her party shoes. Her four-inch heels weren’t designed for traversing the outdoors. Actually, she was pretty sure they weren’t designed for anything other than standing still and looking pretty. Each step was agony, and she worried she’d roll her ankle and John would have to carry her back to the resort. Not John, Beast. She rolled her eyes. It was the kind of nickname a kid picked for himself, not a full-grown man. But whatever, she’d play along. It was what she did best.

Belinda slowed her walk to give her time to see as much as possible. There were five shack-like cabins dotted around the clearing. The voices of several men could be heard coming from the largest one. A radio blared and people laughed. It was another clear sign that this was all fake, because surely if it were real they wouldn’t be hanging around partying.

The camp was surrounded by the dense foliage of the Amazon rainforest. The faint light didn’t let her see much beyond the huts, but she could still make out a wall of trees and plants. Nothing else. Just trees and plants. There was no sound of rushing water, which meant they were nowhere near one of the many rivers running through the rainforest. Instead, she noticed a dirt track behind the main cabin. The path to a boat? She wasn’t sure.

“I speak English,” the man beside her announced.

“That’s nice.” Belinda smiled at him. No point in being moody with the cast.

The guard smiled, revealing stained and crooked teeth. As far as Belinda was concerned, that was taking a role a step too far. “After we get the money, I’m going to rip that dress off your body, force you to your knees and shove my dick down your throat. You’ll like that, no? You actresses are all the same. Whores. Expensive whores. But instead of paying you, I’m the one that will get paid for using you. Are you worth ten million dollars?”

Belinda’s stomach surged and she fought the urge to vomit. It was so real. The look on his face, the malice behind his words, the sweat-stained clothes and rotten teeth. Had she been wrong? Was this real? Or was he saying these things to make her think it was real? Sweat trickled down her spine and her hands began to shake. A door to one of the huts crashed open and a man staggered out. Drunk. He was fastening his pants. Behind him, a topless woman, wearing a ripped skirt, sobbed as she watched him leave. Her eye was black and there were bruises on her breast. The world shifted beneath Belinda’s feet.

The man fastening his trousers shouted something in Spanish to her guard, who laughed. He turned back to Belinda, who was frozen in place.

He reached out, took her hand and pressed it against the front of his jeans. He was hard. Belinda tried to tug her hand away, but he held her tight, grinding her palm into him and laughing while he did it. “As soon as we get the money, we’re going to play. I’m going to take that perfect mouth, and my friend over there, he’s going to come in behind you and shove himself in your backside.” He reached out with his other hand and grabbed a lock of her hair. He brought it to his nose and sniffed.

Belinda couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. She just stood there, watching him, horrified by his words and the images he’d put in her head. Horrified by his obvious erection. Horrified by the sobbing woman who cowered on the bed inside the cabin.

Another man sauntered across the open area and into the cabin with the woman. The door slammed shut. There was a scream. Belinda felt tears run down her cheek. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t. It was fake. Designed to make her believe the experience was real.

“You’re all actors,” she said, her voice hoarse. “This is all fake. My brother paid for this. It’s kidnap training.”

The man laughed. It was vile.

“You really are blonde and stupid. Once we get the ransom, you’ll learn how real this is. And you’ll like everything we do to you, won’t you? Because you’re nothing but a whore. You’ll like it when we tie you to the table and take turns fucking you. You’ll like the other men watching. Yes, I can see you’ll like that very much.” He pressed her hand tight against him. “Maybe I should give you a taste of what’s to come now, no?”

“Miguel!” someone barked, making the man drop his hold on her hand and step back from her.

Belinda rubbed her hand against her dress, trying to get rid of the memory of touching him. The leader was standing outside the largest hut, scowling at them. From the look on his face, he knew exactly what had been said. He snapped an order in Spanish, and her guard shouted back.

The leader gave her a look of pure speculation and licked his lips. Belinda didn’t understand what he’d told her guard, but he walked back into the main building.

“He says,” the guard told her, “that once we have the money, I can take your mouth first.”

Belinda took a step back, wishing she’d never put on the bloody shoes, so she could run if she needed to.

“Vamos.” Miguel put a hand on her shoulder and shoved her towards the cabin.

Belinda didn’t have to be told twice; she rushed for it, grateful when the door swung open and she could step inside.

“Not long to wait,” Miguel said as he started closing the door behind her. “Then you’re mine.”

Belinda turned towards John, who was sitting exactly as she’d left him. Her whole body was shaking and her knees gave way. She landed with a thud on her backside and pressed her back against the door.

“What the hell?” John was up on his knees, but the ropes made it hard for him to get to her. “What is it? What happened?”

“I was wrong. I was so wrong. I’m such an idiot. How could I be such an idiot?” Belinda rocked as she muttered. She ran her palm over the ground beside her, rubbing it back and forth, trying to get rid of the feel of that man pressed against her.

“Belinda.” John’s voice seeped through the noise in her head. “What happened?”

“It’s real. It’s all real. We need to get out of here.” Belinda could barely get the words out. “Now. We need to go now. Now. Right now.”

Her hand still felt dirty. She remembered the antibacterial wipes in her tiny bag and fumbled for them.

“Belinda?” John said. “Come over her. Come to me.”

“Can’t.” She was shaking so hard she couldn’t move. She crumpled the wet wipe up into a ball and held it fast. “We need to go, John. We need to go now. This is real. It’s isn’t fake. I was wrong. So wrong. I am such an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, Hollywood. You were confused. You were right, there was a lot of evidence towards this being fake.”

“Don’t patronise me. I know you thought I was nuts.” She looked over at him as tears fell. “You were right. I am so sorry. So, so sorry.”

She rocked back and forth. This was a nightmare. She was stuck in a nightmare. She could cope with make-believe. She could channel whatever feeling a script called for. It was her gift. But this? This sort of brutal reality? This was way too much to handle.

“Come over here, Belinda. You can do it. Come to me now.” John’s voice was firm, calm, solid. It tempted her to obey. “I want to make sure you’re okay. I have to check you over.” His voice wavered, and the sound snapped Belinda out of the panic that consumed her.

“He didn’t hurt me.” She had to reassure him.

“Come here,” John said softly. “Come to me. Tell me what he did.”

“He just…he just said…things.” She clutched the wipe tightly in her hand at the memory.

“Come on, baby, come over here.” He made that growling noise again. “I’d come to you, but it would mean rolling over there, and that wouldn’t look good.”

She forced a tremulous smile. His words, his strength and even his poor attempt at humour calmed her. On shaky hands and knees, she crawled to him. He sat back, his legs out in front of him, and Belinda climbed straight into his lap. She didn’t care for one second what that said about her or what he thought. He was big and strong. He had muscles and he knew how to fight. He was her only safe place in this whole terrifying mess. And she needed to be close to him. As close as possible. Just for a minute. Just until she calmed down and her heart stopped racing, and the urge to scream passed.

John lifted his arms over her head and wrapped her in the circle made by his tethered wrists. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

She felt his cheek against her hair as she absorbed his heat. She pressed her ear to his chest, above his heart, and listened to the rhythm, letting it soothe her.

“We need to leave.” Her voice was hoarse.

“We will leave.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arm. “I should never have let you go out there. I knew you thought this was all an act and I let you walk out of here ill-prepared. I’m sorry, Hollywood.”

“No.” She wiped her cheeks. “It was the right thing to do. We had to know. I had to know. I’m okay. It was just… I just… Damn it!”

“What did the bastard say?”

She hiccupped, the memory of Miguel’s words crawling over her skin. “He told me how…how he’d rape me…how they would all…”

“Fuck.” John pulled her tighter.

“There was a woman. Crying in a cabin. The men were using her.” She sobbed.

“I’m sorry, baby. For her and for you.” He rubbed at her back.

“They’re really going to do it, aren’t they?” Belinda whispered. “They’re going to rape me.”

“No. I won’t let them.” John’s voice was steel.

And in that moment, she believed him. He was her only point of reality in a situation she didn’t understand.

And she held on tight.