Olivia
“It’s okay.” The male’s whispering voice was lulling. Olivia felt something cold and soft pat her forehead. A wet towel? “I’ve been so worried, but you’re going to be fine. Just relax. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get more wood for the fire. It’s just outside the door.”
Olivia wasn’t sure how much time had passed until she was finally able to open her heavy eyelids and try to focus on the blurry bedroom she didn’t recognize. With her heart speeding up, she wondered where in the world she could be as she took in the unfamiliar setting for clues. A tray with a bowl of soup, some orange juice, and a glass of water sat on the nightstand. A thermometer and a bowl of ice chips were next to the tray. Someone was sick. Was it her?
Glancing around, she tried to remember what had happened, but for the life of her she couldn’t. Who was taking care of her?
Sitting up and shaking her cotton head, she could feel just how chilly it was in there and pulled the blankets up against her neck even as she sat further up. The small fireplace in the bedroom had a fire crackling, but it needed more wood. She heard a door open and close in the other room and then footsteps. Her eyes were glued to the bedroom door, which was cracked open. The only other time in her life she remembered waking up and not knowing where she was she’d been with Jay, and she racked her brain to think if that’s who she was here with.
The door pushed open, and she saw the arms carrying the firewood first then his face, and she gasped. “Elton?”
He turned to her, a bit alarmed, then bent down and dropped the wood on the bricks around the fire. “Oh thank God!” he said, stumbling toward her and sitting on a small stool she hadn’t even noticed next to the bed.
“What happened?” she asked, completely panicked and confused. “Where am I?”
“Shh,” he said, holding a hand out to her. “Don’t get worked up. You’ll get a migraine again. You’re at my cabin. You begged me to bring you here.”
“What?” she asked in disbelief. “When? Why?”
“The other night,” he said then added quickly. “Well, very early in the morning when you got home from Dallas.”
Dallas? Then it came to her, and her mind raced to remember it all. She’d texted Elton to let him know she’d gotten on an earlier flight and that she wouldn’t have to cancel all her appointments for the next day after all. He’d asked, so she told him what flight she’d be on and what time she’d be in then was shocked to see him waiting at the airport when she arrived. But he’d said after she’d mentioned she was taking a cab home he couldn’t in clear conscience not offer her a ride instead.
She remembered feeling a little uncomfortable about it but at the same time relieved that she wouldn’t have to wait around for a cab. Cabs were scarce after two in the morning, even at an airport. She remembered walking through the parking lot to his car and that she’d gotten into the backseat because he said the front passenger seatbelt was jammed. But after that everything was a blur.
“I begged you to bring me here? Why?” she asked, looking around and wondering why she’d beg him to bring her to a place she’d never been to. She turned back to him with a glare. “Is this your home?”
“It’s my cabin,” he reiterated quickly. “The one I’d told you about, in Arrowhead.”
“Why would I beg you to bring me here? And why can’t I remember any of it?”
“Relax please,” he said. “I don’t want you to get upset again. You’ve been very emotional ever since you started telling me about your break up with Lorenzo.”
That memory shot at her explosively, bringing back the familiar ache in her heart. She stared at him, willing him to go on as the lump in her throat made an instant appearance.
“You see?” he said, handing her the box of tissues then explained speaking a little faster. “As soon as I asked you how your trip was, you broke down. You said you didn’t even want to go home. You said you needed alcohol to drown your sorrows. I thought you were just being rhetorical, like when people say they need to get their ass in the gym but then they never do. So when I said I could pull over and get you some, I was just saying it to lighten the mood, but you agreed immediately. You insisted that I stop and get some, so I did. At first, it did calm you, but as you drank more, it only made you more upset. Within minutes, you were crying hysterically. I didn’t know what to do. You kept saying you didn’t wanna go home, to take you anywhere else, but then you asked about the cabin I’d told you about. When I told you more about it, you said it was exactly what you needed. I tried explaining it was hours away, but you begged.” He smiled warmly, reaching out to adjust the towel on her forehead still. “How could I say no?”
Olivia stared at him still in disbelief. That was so not like her, but then if she’d had alcohol it was possible. She was not a good drinker. At all. It’s why she avoided drinking more than two drinks at a time. This was only the second time she’d had such a potentially dangerous experience with it: second only to the time she’d passed out at Jay’s and didn’t get home until almost four in the morning. Her brothers had been beside themselves and beyond upset with her for having given them such a scare, and that’s when it hit. “What day is it?” She peered at the darkened sky through the slightly open curtain. “Oh my God! My brothers and Emi! They’ll be so worried!”
“They were,” he said reassuringly. “But we called them. You were hardly in any condition to talk, but I talked to them. After I explained the situation and why you didn’t wanna go home just yet, they were concerned but relieved to hear you were okay. I told them you wanted to stay here for a few days.”
“What did they say?” she asked wide-eyed, already imagining her brothers’ reactions.
He took the towel off her head. “I’ll refresh this,” he said then added with a smile. “They were glad you were taking the time off. Isaiah agreed you needed the break. He said you work too hard. And he asked me to please try and get you to relax and just rest, which is exactly what I’m going to do.”
It was the bullet that blasted a hole right through his implausible story, and Olivia’s insides tightened instantly. Already she’d found what he’d been saying so incredibly hard to believe. But this was what did it, and her heart began to gallop wildly. No way would Elton know how much her brothers hated him and how wrong he’d gotten his made-up response about what her brothers would actually say about this. Just as she’d been having such a hard time believing that even drunk out of her mind she’d beg him to bring her here, her brothers would never buy that she did much less be so agreeable about letting him keep her here for days.
“Something wrong?” he asked, looking at her strangely. “Are you feeling nauseous again?”
She shook her head, trying to act as indifferently as she’d been from the moment he’d begun to feed her all his bullshit. But she brought her hands under the blankets before he’d notice them shaking. “No, I’m just a little cold,” she said as convincing as possible.
“Oh, I know. Sorry about that. It’s much colder up here in the mountains than what you’re used to. And the heater in this old place isn’t the best, but I’ll get more wood in the fireplace just as soon as I refresh this.”
Elton started toward the other door in the room, and within seconds, she could hear the water running in there. Her frantic mind raced, trying to remember, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember anything past getting in his car at the airport. Was it possible he’d abducted her? She’d known he was creepy, but was he that insane? And if so, what was he planning on doing? To keep her here for good?
He slunk back in the room with a smile again and placed the towel on her forehead. “Let me know if you feel nauseous again. You did a lot of throwing up earlier today. Between that and all the crying, it’s no wonder you’re so dehydrated. Hence the fever, but I think it’s gone down now.”
“I think,” she said softly, not wanting to look him in the eyes, “I wanna call my brothers and check in again. They probably want to hear from me directly.”
“About that,” he said, picking up the thermometer and shaking it. “I managed to call before the battery died on your phone. I didn’t think to write the number down, and when we called earlier, you couldn’t remember any of their numbers. I had to look them up in your contact list. I haven’t been able to find your charger. But then I haven’t searched thoroughly. It might be in the car somewhere. I’ll check for it in a little bit. For now, let’s see about your fever.” He brought the thermometer to her mouth. “Open up.” She did and he placed it under her tongue. “It might be time for some more medicine.”
The very thought of taking anything he gave her was terrifying. She watched silently as he turned back and headed to the fireplace. He kneeled down and began to place the fresh logs he’d brought in the fire.
“I’ll make you some hot tea too, darling,” he said as he continued to organize the logs in the fireplace. “That should make you . . .”
Darling.
A memory flashed through Olivia’s head like a spark drowning out whatever else he said. The memory of a dream. The one of waking to a blurry light and an unrecognizable voice that called her darling. Her breathing accelerated as she remembered being tied then the pain between her toes and everything going white. Was it really just a dream?
The instant she touched her wrists under her blankets and felt the pain she knew. There was no mistaking how badly bruised they felt, and she began shaking and breathing erratically. It wasn’t a dream. He’d drugged her and brought her here. Tied her up.
A gasp escaped her, and Elton’s head jerked and turned to look at her. Both hands were at her mouth now, and he stared at her, straightening out slowly.
“Olivia?” he asked as he stood and peered at her guardedly but didn’t move. “Something the matter?”
He took one step forward, and Olivia pulled her legs off the side of the bed. “I have to throw up,” she said, holding her hands to her mouth and rushed past him into the restroom.
She closed the door, but he instantly knocked against it. “Don’t lock the door,” he said urgently. “I don’t want you passing out in there with the door locked.”
The panic attack she was now having helped the hacking noises she was making to fake the dry heaves sound more believable.
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” she whispered over and over in between fake dry heaves.
Elton knocked again. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come in?”
“No!’ she said a little too loudly then shook her head trying to get it together. “I mean no. I’m not okay, but I will be. Just give me a few minutes, please.”
She faked a couple of more dry heaves then turned on the faucet, letting the water run in hopes of drowning out the sound of her snooping through the doors under the small vanity and the medicine cabinet. There had to be something she could use as a weapon. But there was nothing. Not even damn tweezers. Scouring the rest of the small room frantically, she pressed her hand against her mouth to mute her crying and tried to calm her breathing. The only thing she saw was the wooden handle on the plunger next to the toilet. Her heart thudded even more as the reality sank in. She needed to fight for her life. But did she dare?
Elton was not a big man. Nor was he anywhere near as muscular as Lorenzo and her brothers, but he was bigger than Olivia. If she opened that door and swung and missed, he could easily overpower her. Then what?
There was another knock at the door. “Olivia, you’re worrying me.”
“I’m fine now,” she said. “I’m just washing up a bit. I feel icky, but I’ll be right out.”
“I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
Deciding it was better to wait until she had a chance to explore the entire house and find a better weapon, she took a deep breath, wiping the tears away before walking out.
Elton stood right outside the bathroom door as he promised. He searched her eyes immediately. “You better?”
“Yes,” she nodded and forced a weak smile.
“I think it’s time for more medicine—”
“No!” she said, and his brows pinched, so she touched her stomach. “It’d be a waste. I don’t think I can hold anything down right now.”
He arched a brow slightly. “Tea is good for your stomach. I’ll get you some, but first let’s get you back in bed.”
She began to shuffle and nearly froze when she saw the fireplace wrought iron tool set. Looking away quickly before he saw her eyeing it, she focused on the plush chair in the corner of the room with a matching ottoman. It was closer to the fireplace than the bed.
“I think I’d rather sit,” she said, motioning to the chair. “That looks comfortable and it’s closer to the fire.”
Elton glanced at the chair then back at Olivia, a bit apprehensively, but nodded. “Okay. I’ll get the blankets for you. I wanna make sure you stay warm.”
“Thank you,” she said, forcing a more genuinely sweet smile.
If it weren’t for her bruised wrists and the fact that she had no doubt she hadn’t come here willingly, she might actually feel bad for what she was planning to do. Elton made such a fuss about getting her all propped up and tucking the blankets around her.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” she said, smiling and glad her hands were under the blankets again because they were shaking uncontrollably now.
“I’ll be back with your tea.”
She thanked him and eyed him until he was out of the room. Glancing around the room, she took everything in, making sure there wasn’t anything better to use, but the wrought iron poker was likely her best bet of anything in the house. Thanks to her brothers and their love of baseball growing up, she’d learned how to swing a bat like the best of them. She’d be counting on that now because this could be her only chance. But she needed to think this through. She might not knock him out. He could just be momentarily dazed. She had no idea how isolated or far from any other nearby homes this was. She needed a plan.
By the time Elton returned to the room, she had a sort of half-baked plan. But the moment he bent to lower the tray on her lap she saw it, the plastic end of a syringe sticking slightly out of his sweatshirt pocket. Thoughts of the pinch between her toes and everything going white nearly suffocated her. She couldn’t risk waiting. She’d planned on saying the tea was too hot and while she waited for it to cool ask for a tour of the house so she could get a better idea of at least which way to run. Maybe she could find her phone or his so she could call for help. Now she may have to just go for it the moment she had the chance before he drugged her again.
Thoughts of what he might’ve already done to her while she’d been out made her cringe. “You’re shivering,” he said in a genuinely concerned voice. “Drink the tea. It’ll warm you up.”
“D-do you have plain crackers?” she asked, her stupid words nearly betraying her.
He stared at her for a moment. “You said you couldn’t keep anything down.”
“I-I know,” she said, bringing her hands around the cup of tea and holding it there tightly so that he wouldn’t see just how uncontrollably her hands were shaking. “But I am getting a little hungry, and I think I might be able to keep down some plain crackers.”
For an uncomfortable moment, it felt like a standoff the way they held the eye contact. But Olivia was determined to not look down and give away that she’d seen the syringe.
“I’ll go check,” he finally said then glanced at her tea. “Drink it. It’ll make you feel better.”
Olivia bet it would. Managing to control her shaking hands, she lifted the cup slowly to her lips. He watched her take a sip then smiled. “Drink up. I’ll be right back.”
The second he was out of the room Olivia spit the tea out and jumped out of the chair. She hurried over to the fireplace and grabbed the wrought iron poker carefully, but the whole damn thing toppled over, crashing to the floor loudly.
“Damn it,” she muttered, grabbing a good hold of the poker and rushing over and standing just inside the doorway. She could already hear his hurried footsteps coming back.
“Olivia!’ he called out. “What are you—?”
The poker hit him right across the temple, and she’d swung with such force she was certain she’d knocked him out, but he’d fallen right in front of the doorway, blocking it. She didn’t even realize she was crying hysterically until she tried climbing over him and he grabbed her leg, bringing her down with him. With a blood curdling scream, she let out what she’d wanted to from the moment she realized he had brought her here against her will.
“Let me go!” she screamed again, thrashing her legs and arms, landing a few slaps across his face. “Please,” she cried feeling as if she might have a heart attack.
“I just wanna make you feel better!” he said, reaching for her arm with one hand, and she saw him reach for his pocket with the other. “You’re not well, Olivia. Let me help you.”
“You’re not well!” she screamed again, kicking his arm, and heard the syringe hit the floor.
He let her go for a moment, and she scrambled to get on her feet so she could make a run for it, but she could barely catch her breath she was so terrified. She’d barely been on her feet for a few seconds when she felt him grab her by her waist, and she fought for her life, elbowing and even biting him once to try and get away, but as expected he overpowered her, and that’s when she felt it: a pinch on her lower back.
“No!”
She pulled away from him, and he actually let her go as she touched her behind where it still stung. Olivia squeezed it frantically in a desperate attempt to try and squeeze out whatever it was he’d shot her with. “What is it?” she asked screaming. “What did you inject me with?”
Already she could feel the numbness begin in the spot where he’d injected her.
“It’s okay,” he said, holding up his hand in front of him. “You’ll feel better in a few minutes.”
“No!” she cried, shaking her head, but it made her woozy, and the room moved with her. “Why are you doing this?” she asked again, sobbing now. “Why?”
He took a few cautious steps toward her. “Let me help you.”
Olivia jerked away and again felt the room shift, so she held on to the next chair over, determined to not fall.
“Olivia, you’re going to fall and hurt yourself,” he said calmly. “Let’s get you back in bed.”
“No!” she screamed, but even her voice was feeling weak, and she was having trouble seeing straight.
Something banged in her head, and she shook it, blinking wildly. Then she realized when Elton grabbed her and brought his hand over her mouth that the banging wasn’t in her head; it was the front door.
“Liv!” she heard someone yell then bang again. “Are you in there?”
Her eyes went wide as she realized what was happening. Elton was trying to drag her back in the bedroom, holding his hand to her mouth and nose so tightly she could barely breathe, and she knew if she didn’t pass out soon from the drugs, she would from the lack of air, so she screamed as loudly as she could.
The front door crashed open, and to her utter surprise, AJ charged in. Elton immediately let her go as AJ bolted past her. She was so dazed she hadn’t even seen Lorenzo enter, but he was holding her now, tapping her cheek softly with his fingers. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked urgently. “What did he do to you?”
She shook her face, unable to find the words to express herself. Then she turned to the commotion behind her. Her other brothers and cops were pulling AJ away from Elton, who appeared to be unconscious now.
AJ’s foot connected viciously with Elton’s bloodied face even as Isaiah and Nathan tried to pull him away. One of the cops tried grabbing AJ, but her infuriated little brother wouldn’t stop. He pushed away the cop, who hit the doorway of the bedroom. The words were stuck in her throat. She couldn’t say anything, but she wanted to scream at AJ to stop, tell him he was going to get arrested, but she couldn’t. She turned to look into Lorenzo’s fretful eyes, and then everything went white.