Accompanying Song:
Providence, Rhode Island – May 1st, 2013, morning
Of course, I didn’t win. There was no other logical conclusion. From the moment she moved her first pawn, I knew where the game would go, knew what piece I had to move to trap her and beat her at her own game. However, I wanted her to win. I wanted to see the glow on her face, the glint in her eyes, and the bright smile on her lips as she placed that last methodically selected piece onto the board. She needed to win, so that I can start helping her. I might come across as an arrogant, egotistical bastard, but I’m very much interested in taking care of her. After all … she is my captive.
She probably thought this was an easy way to pry facts from my mouth. She thought wrong. There is only so much I will tell her … little unimportant things about me, like the fact that I dislike spicy food, that I prefer suits over casual clothing, that I own a library, and that the love of my life is books. That I enjoy hunting and prefer anything black or white to color. But these are all insignificant attributes. They only show my likes and dislikes, but they do not show the truth about me. About all the horrible things I’ve done and will continue doing.
No, this little game was meant for her to learn to trust me again. Regardless of the fact that they are all worthless little bits about me, to her they make a difference, because I speak the truth. Truth means trust. And trust means obedience, which is exactly what I’m aiming for.
I’ve shown a few of my hidden qualities, and so has she. I’ve learned that she likes rose perfume, diet Coke, red lipstick, strawberry tea, the color red in general, and that she loves to go out. She enjoys the seasons, loves traveling, likes to take pictures of everything, wanted to become a photographer, and that she has a love of paintings. Her father died not too long ago, which is interesting, and she went on vacation to forget about it all. She refused to talk about her mother, though. I’m curious if I can get her to tell me, if I can make her face her past, so she can move beyond her trauma. It’s the only way to truly set her free again and make sure she’ll be safe … not just from me, but from whatever’s out there.
“So … when are you going to tell me more about yourself?” she asks, tidying up the chessboard and pieces.
“It surprises me you’re actually interested.”
“Of course. If I’m your prisoner, I might as well get to know my captor. Beats not knowing anything at all.”
“True.” I think she’s more intent on using it against me.
I swipe my phone and check for messages. Nothing. I guess they’re taking it slow today. What a relief.
When the bell rings, my eyes immediately zoom in on the door, but so do hers. Shit, he’s early. “Hide. Now.”
“Why?” she says, frowning.
I grab her arm and push her toward the room. There’s haste because, unlike her, I know I’m not the sole person who has entry into my house. I neglected to mention that fact purely for her safety. However, this man is no friend. If he were to see her, it could thwart all my plans. I won’t let it happen.
With force, I shove her into the room. “Hey!” she protests.
“Stay here,” I say, trying to close the door, but she keeps jerking on it.
“Who is that? You told me I could roam free, why are you trying to hide me?”
Shit, I have no time for this. In an effort to keep her quiet, I grab the cuffs from the cabinet and put them around her wrists. I struggle to keep her inside as she fights me relentlessly. Meanwhile, the doorbell continues ringing.
“Coming!” I yell.
“Let go of me!” she yells. “I’m not going to do this again.”
“Oh, yes you are,” I say, tugging her into the room. I throw her on the bed, reach for a towel hanging from the wall, and wrap it around her head within a few seconds. She squeals, but I stuff a bit into her mouth, muffling her sounds.
“Shhh … keep quiet. Don’t make a sound … or else.” I take the knife from my pocket again, flashing it close to her face in an attempt to calm her down. I wish this wasn’t the only way I could get her to listen to me, but I guess it’s too late for that now.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Carrigan, but rules are rules, and if you disobey them, I will tie you up.” I get off her, tucking the knife back into my pocket and taking out a key. “I’ll let you out when this is over.”
“Hmmm!” she groans through the cloth, tumbling off the bed. Her eyes follow me as I quickly close the door behind me and lock it. I walk to the front door and adjust my tie, making sure I look proper before opening the door.
“What took you so long?” he says, pushing right past me.
“Hello to you, too, Sam.”
I close the door and walk after him. “I’m not here for a long chat, Sebastian. Something came up.”
I stand across from him at the table, watching the door to the room Miss Carrigan is in. There’s a small slit between the door and the frame, and she’s peeking right through it. With my eyes, I threaten her.
Sam grabs a chair. “Listen, the hospital is in duress.”
“What’s happened?” I ask, planting my palms on the table.
“You know that lady who was constantly talking about you, Carrigan, the one I warned you about?”
“What about her?” My eyes flicker to the guestroom door for just a second, but it’s enough for me to spot her eyes through the tiny gap. I know she can hear the conversations through the door. She’s watching us, her eyes growing wider with every word.
“Listen, I don’t want to burden you with this, but … she escaped from the institution.”
“Really?” I say, frowning.
“Yeah, and since she has an outrageous obsession with you, I thought it’d be best to come to you first. I was going to check up on you, but it seems you’re fine. Has she come to see you? She has freckles, red hair, and comes across a little careless.”
I swallow, my eyes shifting back and forth between Sam and Miss Carrigan. Interesting. I guess this conversation is truly taking a magnificent turn. I can use this to my advantage … in an oh-so-bad way.