Chained: A Bad Boy Romance (18 page)

No more help, no more saving him or digging him out. This would be it.

But I can't! I don't want to risk what could happen to me. Charlie needs me, the baby needs me. What good would it do if I ended up locked up again? Or worse, dead?

Is he worth it? He's not.

But to save her, I need to keep her away from him. Away from the plague that follows Brice.

“Owen!” The loud yell she threw in my direction knocked me out of my daze. “Are you alright? You've been staring at your plate forever.”

I met her glare with an empty look. “Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, just a lot to take in.” My eyes darted around the room, looking for any sign of Brice. I had been paranoid since his drop in. Knowing he had been following me, watching me, it made me uneasy. I had no clue when he would show up next.

Concern filled her face. “Look, I know this is scary. And to be honest, I'm terrified. But after seeing the baby today my heart feels a love I've never experienced.”

Her statement brought new meaning to what we had just seen. She was right, a certain unexplained love automatically swelled inside of me now.

I looked up at her, about to speak, the words teetering on the tip of my tongue. Then my eyes fell to the window behind her. Instantly, my  insides began to shake.

In the reflection of the glass beyond her was Brice's face.

He smiled his crooked grin and waved. A rage instantly set in.

How dare he follow me?
My fists clenched so tightly the nails left impressions in my palms. Suddenly, with a single blink, Brice's face was gone.

Did I just imagine that?

He's making me crazy! I'm seeing him and he's not even there!

Sweat broke out on my flesh, distress immediately streaming over me. “I'll be right back.” Swiftly I stood and walked towards the bathroom. Her mouth hung open behind me, unsure of what just happened.

My hands fell heavily on the sink, I peered at my image in the mirror.
Fuck, fuck, what am I going to do? I can't tell her what's going on. She has enough to focus on right now.

I grunted loudly and gripped the sink.
He's like a parasite I can't get rid of! His face haunts me and all I want is for him to go away. How did my life suddenly fall into his hands?
My chest felt tight, my muscles tensed with internal fury.

Focus, get a grip. He doesn't control you anymore! Don't let him get to you.
I inhaled a deep breath through my nose and exhaled out my mouth. I opened the door to head back, and there stood Charlie in the hallway.

“What the hell, Owen? What's going on?” Her forehead scrunched up.

“It's nothing, really. Let's go sit back down.” I placed my arm around her shoulder and guided her back.

She slid into her chair to face me. “Owen, you can talk to me you know. Please, what's wrong? Are you really nervous about the baby? It's alright if you are.” Her hands reached across the table, her fingers intertwined into mine.

I didn't want to lie to her, but I couldn't tell her the position I was in. The stress wouldn't be good for her or the baby.

I'm here to shield her from any danger. That's what I need to do. She doesn't have to know this, not now.

“Don't worry, Charlie. Everything's fine.” My lip lifted awkwardly to the side. I looked behind her to see if the Brice-mirage was still present . She followed my eyes and turned to look over her shoulder.

The window was empty.

“You're being weird, Owen. You know I'm here for you, talk to me. You can tell me anything, I won't judge you or what you're feeling. Just tell me what's going on.”  Worry filled her voice.

“Charlie, everything's going to be fine. I'm taking care of it.” I forced a soothing tone. “Really, I promise.”

I hoped it wasn't a lie.

But it still felt like one.

Charlie

T
wo days had passed since I had last seen Owen.

I found that strange since we had been inseparable for the past few weeks. When I called, he didn't pick up. Wanting to act like everything was normal, I decided I wanted to surprise him with dinner.

The store was a mad house when I went to pick up the food, it took a lot longer to check out than usual. I'd been trying to call him again since I left to head home, but the phone rang endlessly, each attempt met by his voice mail.

Where is he? This isn't like him, we've been connected at the hip since I told him about the baby.

Calm down, he's probably just busy at work. He'll call you back when he gets a chance.

A part of me felt ridiculous for being so upset over him not picking up. I knew my hormones were going haywire from the pregnancy. I had thrown a tantrum and cried the other day when Sara offered me a sandwich and she'd added mustard to it.

S
top, relax.
A deep, warm breath lifted my lungs as I inhaled to try and slow my racing heart.
Just get home, you don't need to freak out while driving.

I forced myself to focus on my surroundings. I watched the  trees sway side to side, small buds could be seen starting to sprout from the bare branches, patches of snow had given way to the ground beneath. Winter was coming to an end and the feel of spring started to encompass the air.

I rolled to a stop at the red light, my window was cracked when the breeze crept through and caused me to shudder. It sent an unsettled feeling through my bones. I picked up my phone and dialed him again.

Never, even at work, has he ignored a call from me.
The repetitious ringing filled my ear. C
ome on, pick up already.
My finger anxiously tapped the steering wheel as I nervously peered out the window.

A click came across the other end and I sat straight up in my seat, hoping his voice would follow.

“Please leave a message for...”

]My thumb slammed the red end button.

Somethings not right.
My heart felt heavy from worry while a nauseous feeling trolled my stomach. 

What if he got hurt under a car or truck? What if something fell on him and he can't get help?

Maybe I'm just being a paranoid pregnant woman.

This isn't like him, I have to make sure nothing happened.

The rubber of the tires squealed as I made a sharp u-turn to head towards his shop. My foot pressed down on the pedal. I watched the speedometer rise as the engine roared to life with each shift of the transmission.

Come on, let's go!
I hit my hand against the steering wheel with frustration.

I repeatedly kept trying his phone with no result. My body felt hot, like it was on fire from the  fear that radiated through.

Alright, I'm close. His work is just a little bit further.

The dull glow of the sign started to come into focus. As I pulled up the dirt road the building was completely set in blackness.

What? Where is he? Owen always works in the evening.
My eyes scanned the parking lot for his vehicle.
It's not here. Why is it not here?

I threw the car into park  and raced up to the front. I yanked on the door, but it was locked. My face pressed firmly against the small window, the inside was a blur of shadows with no movement.

I banged on the window with my open palm. “Hello?” I yelled. My open hand turned to a fist as I hit the window harder. “Hello, Owen?”

No one is here. His car isn't here, Bill's either. Where is he?

My legs shook as I walked back to my car. Heavily, my body fell into the driver's seat, disbelief setting in as I stared at the empty building.

Did he lie to me?

My hands reached up and grabbed the base of my neck as my eyes fell onto the cell phone resting on the passenger seat. I picked it up and decided to dial him one last time.

Every muscle tensed with anxiety, my stomach climbed the ridges of my throat. I almost dropped the phone from my grip with how intensely my fingers trembled.

The ringing was magnified in my ears, as if it was being played through a megaphone.

Answer, just pick up the god damn phone already!

Panic rushed in like a tidal wave when he didn't answer
.
I threw the phone down onto the seat and it bounced off onto the floor.

My head started to unhinge from any rational thought.

Why wouldn't be here? What is he really doing?

I could go to his house, but I've only been there once. I don't even know if I remember how to get there.

Owen had been acting different recently. I constantly watched him scan every place we went to, his eyes perpetually shifting in all directions. A paranoia seemed to weigh on his shoulders.

Maybe the pregnancy had created a friction inside him? I hadn't been able to figure it out, even offering to listen got me no answers. The therapist me inside wanted to attribute it to the pregnancy.

Maybe he fears losing it all, losing the baby even?  Does he worry he will turn into the father he barely had? He needs to open up, let me in. I might be able to help if he would just talk to me.

I should head home, maybe he'll show up there.

I gripped the shifter and pulled it hard into drive, but I struggled to click it into gear.
Come on! Not now!
With one swift tug it jolted into place; I slammed down on the gas and tore out of the parking lot.

The clock read five-thirty as I drove back home. My mind twisted with different reasons he hadn't answered or called me back.

He could be scared and second guessing about the baby, maybe he has doubts about being tied down?

All I know is he better have a good excuse for working me up like this.

As the tires bared down on the pavement I tried to calm myself. I didn't want to create an issue that wasn't there. I had thought about calling the police, but what would I say? That my convict boyfriend who is on parole hadn't called me?

What if he'd gotten caught up in something bad? He'd be sent right back to prison.

You're being crazy, Charlie. He's not doing anything, he told you before that he never wanted to go back. I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he left his phone in his car.

No, he always had it on him. Especially with the baby now, in case I ever needed anything. That's what he said, those were his words.

Something is wrong, I just know it is.

As I pulled into my driveway I noticed the apartment was dark.

Huh, I thought Sara would be home by now. Wait... no, tonight she's staying at her boyfriend's house.

The two had reconciled, continuing their pattern. It bothered me, but it wasn't my place to tell her who to date. Especially now.

The front door wasn't illuminated under the light. I fidgeted with the key, my brain tickling with a new realization.
It's way too quiet in there. Where's Biscuit? I don't hear him, he always gets excited when he hears me jiggling the lock.

I opened the door and stepped in, my hand coming up to flick the switch in the entryway for the hall lights, but nothing happened.

Weird, what's wrong with the lights?
I lifted the switch up and down a couple more times, but the hall remained shrouded in darkness. My hand rested on the wall as I made my way into the condo. The silence floated creepily around me.

What's going on? Why are the lights out? There hasn't been a storm or anything.

Did Sara forget to pay the bill?

As I reached the kitchen a loud thud echoed from further inside. My body, startled from the noise; no one was supposed to be home.

“Biscuit?” I walked in the direction of the sound. Slowly I felt my way down the hall, a subtle glow from the street lights outside casting shadows. I was able to see the shapes and outlines of where I was walking.

A noise I couldn't make out came from Sara's room. It sounded muffled and strained, I stopped in my tracks to listen.

Maybe she brought her boyfriend here?
“Sara? You in there?” My breathing began to intensify, worry and fear had set in. I could hear something move around, but had gotten no response. “Hello? Sara? Are you home?”

A brief flash of a horror movie crossed my mind. Every time I watched one, I would yell at the screen for the girl to not make herself known, to be quiet and stealthy. I always thought they were stupid for yelling into the empty darkness.

But here I had been doing just that, yelling at something or someone I couldn't see.

Another thud crept through the air; I froze, uncertain of what I was hearing. Goosebumps riddled my skin.
I don't like this. Where are the lights? Where is my dog?

As I passed the bathroom, an arm forcefully grabbed me around my neck from behind. I felt the cold metal of a blade against my skin and a man's voice filled my ear. “Be quiet and I won't slit your throat. Scream and it's all over.”

There wasn't a word strong enough to describe what fell over me in that moment. Every muscle seized, my breathing became short and rapid. Instinctively I reached up and grabbed his forearms.
Who is this? Why is he here? What does he want with me?

He pulled me in tighter against his chest and started to walk backwards toward the kitchen. “Don't fight back, got it?” The blade pressed firmly against my throat as he lit up a small flashlight.

I strained to speak. “Who
are
you?”

“Shut up!” He spat, pulling the knife away. “Try to run and I'll fucking kill you.” I heard him rustle something out of his pocket. The sound of duct tape being torn rang through my ears.

Think, Charlie, think. What can I do?
Thoughts popped like bubbles in champagne, rising in my mind. My training as a therapist took hold.
Talk to him, try to befriend him. Make him look at you like a person and not an object.

You have to do this for the baby.

“Why are you doing this?” I wanted to start off asking short, quick questions. See if I could get him to give me some information; try and piece together what his motives were.

“You're going to help me get something I need.” He tightened his grip around my neck.

“What do you need? Money? I can get you money.” I tried to keep my voice monotone and relaxed. I didn't want him to hear the terror I felt inside.