Julia 31
The apartment is dark when I come in. Why is it so dark in here? I drop the cello case next to the door and hang my purse on the hook.
“Nat?” I call out.
Silence.
“Natalie?”
I glance at my watch. It’s nearly midnight. Maybe she’s fallen asleep? But that’s not like her. I walk into the kitchen, no note. In fact, there’s no sign that anyone has been in here since I left this afternoon. I walk out into the living room, which is totally still, totally silent and totally empty. I flip the switch for the lights but nothing happens.
“Dammit!” I mutter to myself.
Well, just two more places they could be, if they’re anywhere in this apartment. I take a left down the hall to the baby’s room, which used to be Matthew’s room when we were just roommates. I stick my head in the door first and can clearly see David in his crib by the glow of the elephant nightlight in the corner. I breathe a sigh of relief. Okay, she must be taking a nap in my room. Not like her, but not out of the realm of possibility either. But before I confirm my suspicion, I need to confirm that all is right in David Land. I slip my shoes off in the hallway and pad silently into the room so I can peer over the rail of his crib.
And there he is, my sweet little boy. He’s on his back, looking up at me with a smile. He gurgles softly, kicking his legs as if he’s riding a bicycle. I can tell he’s sleepy, but he wants to play. If I keep things low-key enough, he’ll just go back to sleep. Or, I could just pull him out and smother him with kisses, which is what I want to do. But he’s going to have to wait a second while I track down Nat.
“You stay put, little man. You hear me?” I say softly, and am rewarded with his big, sloppy, gummy grin.
I take a step, continuing to wave at him as I make my way out of the room backwards. I’m almost to the door when I hear a familiar squeak behind me, the hinge of the closet. But I’m a split second too late. From behind me come two strong hands, one grabbing my waist and pulling me back, the other clamping down over my mouth. I try to pull away, but my stockinged feet slip uselessly on the hardwood floor.
Oh my God! Oh my God!
All I can think about is getting away from whoever – whatever – this is and getting David out of here. I start to struggle, kicking at the person behind me, clawing at his arms, slamming my head back against his chest. But I’m only succeeding in wearing myself out. Then I feel breathing, hot against the side of my face.
“Shhhhhhh,” his voice whispers soothingly in my ear.
I shake my head violently, defiantly, but I’m no match for his strength. Jeremy’s strength. Who else could this possibly be? Just the thought of it makes me dig my nails into his arm around my midsection.
“Hey, knock it off, Jules!” he demands, and my suspicion is confirmed.
Son of a bitch! He’s in my home! He’s been in here with my child. I’m not scared now, I’m furious. I twist and writhe and try to slam my weight down on his instep, but he’s too fast.
“Enough!” he hisses in my ear as I try to get a garbled scream past his hand. He pulls me hard up against his body, his face so close that I can smell the beer on his breath.
“Listen to me, if you don’t settle down right now and do what I say, little David isn’t going to be smiling for very long. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Oh, Christ.
My heart sinks as I realize I’m totally and completely stuck. It’s not just me anymore.
“Do. You. Understand?” he repeats the question, more gruffly this time.
I take a deep breath through my nose and try to calm myself. I give him a slow, grudging nod.
“Good!” he chirps, his tone suddenly pleased. “Now, if I take my hand off your mouth, can you keep quiet?”
I start to nod but he stops me.
“Wait. Think about it for a second, because you screaming is the difference between life and death. Do you need a second to calm down?”
Strangely enough, I do, though how he could have possibly anticipated that, I have no idea. I nod again. Yes, I need a second.
“Fair enough,” his voice says softly. “Go ahead and breathe in, through your nose.”
I do as he instructs. One breath. Two breaths. The third time, I feel my breath catch in my throat and I start to cry.
“You’re going to suffocate like that,” he informs me coolly.
He’s right. Without use of my mouth, the crying is causing my nose to run.
“Can I take my hand away now?”
I nod and he very slowly uncovers my mouth. I don’t move.
“Okay, good. I’m going to let go of you but so help me God, if you try anything and I mean anything, Jules, I’ll kill both of you. Him first so you can watch. Do you understand me?”
I close my eyes and nod again, not trusting myself to speak yet. Jeremy lets go of me just long enough to grab ahold of my shoulders and spin me around so we’re facing one another. His newly blonde, clean-shaved image smiles down on my tear-stained face. So, Natalie’s instincts were right. I want to kill myself for not paying closer attention.
“Hello, Jules!”
“What do you want, Jeremy?” I rasp, my eyes meeting his.
“Everything, Jules. Absolutely everything. And you’re going to give it to me.”
“Where’s Natalie? Did you … is she alright?”
He’s still smiling.
“Oh, she’s just fine. She’s passed out on your bed. I put her there after I shot her up with a sedative. She’ll wake up in a couple of hours with a nasty headache.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to steady my frantic pulse and concentrate on the situation at hand. I have to keep my baby safe.
“What’s next?”
“We’re going to leave now. All three of us. Like a happy little family!”
I look over my shoulder to the crib where I can see David pulling on his feet and hear him chattering nonsense to the mobile animals hanging over his head.
“Where?” I panic.
He doesn’t reply.
“Jeremy, do you have any idea how much work he is? He’ll fuss and cry and whine. He runs all over the place now, and he throws temper tantrums at the drop of a hat. You don’t want to take him anywhere, believe me. He’s more trouble than you need,” I entreat him, trying to sound sincere and reasonable even as the panic within me is starting to reach critical mass.
I see him considering this. He looks at David, then at me, then back at the crib again.
“Fine. He stays here. Let’s go.”
“But we can’t just leave him here alone!” I exclaim a little too loudly. He gives me a warning look.
“I’m sorry.”
“He’ll be fine,” he says, grabbing my forearm and pushing me toward the door of the nursery.
“Jeremy, please …”
“Now, Jules,” he orders, clearly starting to lose what little patience he has.
I notice the diaper bag on top of the changing table, a bottle sticking out of one of the front pockets. Jeremy wasn’t bluffing, he’d been prepared to take us both.
“Let me just give him his bottle …” I say, reaching for it, but he yanks me back hard.
“Uh-uh. I don’t know what the hell you and Xena Warrior Princess have hiding in that bag.”
Dammit! Think, Julia. Think.
“Then you get it,” I blurt. “Please, Jeremy, it’ll keep him quiet, and then he’ll probably fall asleep.”
From the crib, David is starting to become agitated.
“Mama!” he calls to me, peeking through the slats of the crib. In another second he’s going to pull himself up to a standing position and once he does that, I won’t be able to get him back down to sleep. I turn back to Jeremy and put a hand on his arm, meeting his gaze squarely.
“Please. Just do this for me and I swear I’ll go with you without a fuss. Please. You know me well enough to know I’m not lying,” I plead.
He scrutinizes my face, as if he can see something written across it that will confirm what I’m saying to him. At last, I see the acquiescence in his eyes.
“Alright,” he mutters, reaching around me and sticking his hand into the bag. He pulls the bottle from its pocket and hands it to me. “You have thirty seconds.”
“Thank you,” I say sincerely.
He lets go of my arm and I rush to the crib and help my son to lie on his back again. He smiles up at me. I put the bottle in his mouth and his chubby little hands latch onto it as he sucks happily. I brush the hair off of his forehead and watch as his eyelids grow heavy.
“It’s okay, baby,” I whisper. “Everything is going to be just fine.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t count on that this time,” Jeremy mutters from right behind me. He grabs my upper arm and pulls me from the crib while pushing me toward the door.
I swipe at the tears, which are running down my face again, looking over my shoulder every inch of the way down the hall, through the living room and to the front door, where we stop short.
“I’m dead serious, Jules. Don’t even think about sending a signal, making a run, screaming, anything.” He holds up Natalie’s key ring for me to see. “I can be back in this apartment and snapping his little neck before you can even get someone to notice you. And you know I’ll do it.”
“I understand, Jeremy,” I assure him quietly. “I just don’t know if I can get through the lobby looking like nothing’s wrong.”
“Yeah, well, we’re going out the back, so that won’t be a problem.”
“I – I don’t have a key for that elevator …”
“I do,” he cuts me off as he opens the front door, sticks his head out and looks both ways down the hallway. It’s silent.
He gestures for me to step out ahead of him. I do, and before I know what’s happening, he’s ushering me all the way down and into the service elevator, which he does, indeed, have a key for. We’re out of the building in under two minutes. There isn’t anyone back here in the alley, but I look up and around, hoping the security camera will catch me and the security guard will notice. But no one comes as we approach a nondescript white commercial van.
“Where are we going?”
“Right here,” he says, pulling the back door open. He nods for me to get in. When I look over my shoulder one last time, he gives me a rough shove. I scramble inside on my hands and knees, him following close behind me, pulling the van doors shut and securing them from the inside. Then he turns around and gestures to a mattress I hadn’t noticed.
“Lie down on your stomach.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
I do as he says.
“Jeremy, you don’t have to do this,” I plead desperately, but he doesn’t respond. I hear the rustle of a plastic bag, and then I feel his weight next to me on the mattress.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he orders.
“What?” I repeat.
“I’m not going to keep repeating myself, just do it the first time I tell you or I’m going to get pissed off. And you know what I’m like when I’m pissed off, Jules.”
I do. I put my hands behind me and he pulls them together roughly before fastening my wrists with a zip tie.
“Ouch! It’s too tight,” I complain as the plastic bites into my skin.
“Oh, come on, Jules. You can’t fool me! I remember how much you like to be tied up,” he teases me as he repeats the process with my ankles.
I have no response, I just bury my face in the soft pillow in front of my face. But he doesn’t allow me that luxury for long. Without warning, Jeremy grabs a handful of my hair and yanks my head up with one hand, while holding a cotton bandana in front of my face with the other.
“Open your mouth,” he barks.
I just stare at it, realizing what he intends to do. My panic is renewed and I start to struggle again. He jams his knee painfully into the middle of my back, his weight pressing me hard down into the mattress.
“What the hell are you thinking? Huh? I’m more than twice your size … and you’re tied up! Who do you think is going to win this little tussle?”
I have no response for that.
“Okay, you know what? Maybe little David should come with us. It seems as if that’s the only way you’re going to do what I tell you to do.” He starts to get up.
“No! No, no, please, wait!” I beg, twisting my head and trying to catch his eye over my shoulder. “Please, I’m sorry. You just – you scared me with the gag. I’m so sorry, Jeremy. Please leave him here. Please.”
He seems to consider me for a moment before holding up the bandana.
“Last time, Jules.”
“I know,” I agree quickly.
This time, when he pulls the bandana around my face, I open my mouth wide and he ties it tight around the back of my head. He’s close to my face again.
“Excellent,” whispers against the shell of my ear. Then, I feel his hand on the back of my bare leg. He runs his palm up and under my skirt. It’s all I can do to keep from recoiling.
“Don’t you worry, Jules, we’ll have plenty of time to play later, you and I.”
I cringe at the implication. His hand keeps moving upward. When he reaches my panties, he gives the elastic waistband a snap and squeezes my flesh. And then, suddenly, there the unmistakable pinch of a hypodermic needle. I grunt in surprise.
“Oh, yeah,” he drawls, back in my ear again, his breath warm on my face. “I’ve missed fucking you, Jules. You get your rest now, and when you wake up, I’ll show you a real good time. I promise.”
He kisses my cheek, and then his weight lifts off the mattress. I don’t know what it is that he’s just injected into me, but it’s only a few seconds before I start to feel its effects. He climbs over me and into the driver’s seat, starts the van and turns the radio on. But it’s not the radio. This is my new CD.
“Off we go!” he calls back to me cheerily, as if we’re off on a road trip.
I realize as I feel the van pull away from the curb, that I am totally and completely on my own. The thought terrifies me for the thirty seconds more that I’m awake, and then it doesn’t matter. Nothing does.