Save Riley (5 page)

“Then why don’t you let me out and you won’t have to deal with my ‘disobedience’”, I shot back, still trying to get out of his grip.

He laughed loudly at my words. I didn’t find anything amusing about what I said and he seemed to think that holding me hostage in this fortress was a game of some sorts.

Oh God. I’m probably going to die here,
I thought frantically. And that’s when my inner heroine surfaced. I knew that if I calmed down there was a slim chance I could talk myself out of this situation.

“What’s your first name?” I asked taking a steadying breath.

“Jaxton. I’ve already told you that you can call me Jax, Ms. Riley,” he replied, not loosening his grip.

“Why do you call me Ms. Riley instead of Riley?” I asked in genuine curiosity.

“Because I believe in manners. Until you give me permission to call you by your first name, then I’ll refer to you as Ms. Riley,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You officially have my permission to call me Riley,” I replied carefully.

“Thank you,” he said with a pleasant smile.

I nodded, “How long do you plan on keeping me here, Jax?”

“I was thinking of forever, of course.” My vision blurred at his words. I felt the tears threatening to spill over but I blinked a few times, refusing to let them. “But I also have a trial period. I think that you’re just what I need to feel enough and I’m sure that once you become acclimated to how I like things to be, you’ll find that I’m quite good for you as well.”

Keep talking, Riley. Whatever you do, don’t give up.

“What arrangement did we come to?” I asked my voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, Riley,” he said softly brushing the hair off of my forehead. “Your grandmother died. In exchange for fare to the funeral, you agreed to let me accompany you and spend time together when we got back.”

I furrowed my brow trying to remember and letting the tears finally fall. My grandmother was dead? I turned my face away from him for a moment and took a small steadying breath. Okay. I would accept that. For now.

“What do I have to do to get you to trust me?” I asked.

He chuckled and tightened his grip around my wrists. It wasn’t particularly painful, but I was worried that if he gripped any tighter, he might leave bruises on me.

“You can’t talk your way out of my home, out of our arrangement, and out of being obedient, Riley. You have to earn certain privileges with me and trust is the last one you’ll be rewarded with. But I think that for the rest of the day I’ll let you walk around the house. Most of the doors won’t open without a code as you know, and the ones that do aren’t a way to escape. As a matter of fact, some of the doors that
do
open might frighten you. Some of them might thrill you. You’ll have to let me know which does which when I come to collect you. And tonight, you and I will start your lessons. Much like the doors, some you will enjoy and some will scare you. But it will be up to me, not you Riley, to decide which ones are the most tolerable and intolerable for you,” he said in a low, serious tone.

“Agreed,” I whispered in a shaky voice.

He nodded and let go of my wrists. I began to rub them as I wondered what the hell I was going to have to endure to gain my freedom.

“The sun goes down in four hours. You have until then,” Jax said before he turned and walked away.

I
spent the first hour of my “freedom” exploring the second floor. By exploring, I meant punching in every combination of numbers I could think to open the damn windows, but I always managed to lock the pads after the third try. I knew he would be most likely be angry when he realized what I had spent this time doing, but he would also be dense to not assume that I wouldn’t try.

After I had sufficiently tripped the safety backup on all of the code pads, I made my way down the stairs. Jax had gone back to the living room and I could hear him watching something again. From the sounds of the screams, I assumed it to be a horror movie of some sort.
Figures,
I thought rolling my eyes.

I tiptoed past the living room and followed the wide hallway into the kitchen. I looked around curious at how immaculate it was.
It looks like it’s never even been used. Okay; he’s a neat freak. Check.

Behind me, I heard his footsteps as he made his way to the kitchen. He walked past me without so much as a glance and reached into the large restaurant sized refrigerator for ...
what is that?

He set the slab of meat on the counter and reached up into one of the beautiful oak cabinets to pull out a loaf of bread. I watched as he sat down on one of the stools and put at least six slices of the meat onto the two slices of bread, before going back to the refrigerator to replace the meat and pull out a bag of lettuce and some mayonnaise. After putting three pieces of lettuce on his growing sandwich, he opened a drawer under the counter he was sitting at, pulled out a knife and applied a thin layer of mayo to it. I had never found the making of a sandwich to be as intriguing as the way Jax did it because he actually held it up eye level, put it down, and cut the excess lettuce that was peeking out of the sides off, before he was satisfied enough to return the bag and the mayo back to the refrigerator.

My eyes wandered to the knife on the counter. It was sharp enough to ... hurt. Jax drummed his fingers along the top of the fridge while he stood in front of it looking for something else. I moved closer to the counter, never taking my eyes off of the knife.
If I can get my hands on it I can force him to let me out.

“If you’re planning on sticking me, I would hope you’d think to use a better knife than that, Riley,” he said, still engrossed in the contents of the fridge. “Something larger, sharper; something that would make me wonder if I was going to survive the attack. Not a knife used to spread condiments on a sandwich.”

He shook his head in amusement, before he finally pulled out a big plastic jug of water and came back to the counter. Setting it down, he reached for the knife and cut the sandwich in half, then held it out to me.

“If you want to have a go, please do. But make sure that I don’t survive, Riley. I’d be quite upset if you attacked me and left me with scars,” he warned seriously.

Take the knife and ram it through his throat!
my inner heroine screamed.

“No thank you,” I replied to him
and
her. I pulled my shirt around myself again and stood there for a moment. “Jax, can I ask you something?”

“Yes?” he asked, placing the knife down.

“Why am I dressed like this?”

He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the counter and crossing his arms. A genuinely happy smile crossed his face and he looked me up and down for a moment before he answered, “It reminds me of Bondi Beach, the way you’re dressed. I have a lot of good memories from childhood on that beach. God, I haven’t been there in years,” he said wistfully.

“How come?” I asked curiously.

“Are you really interested? I can tell you now and chew up your ‘free’ time or I can tell you tonight after our lesson,” he replied.

I sat down on the stool across from him. It was obvious that I was in a homemade version of Fort Knox, so free time wasn’t really needed or wanted.

“I’m interested,” I replied, crossing my left leg over the right. I used one hand to hold my shirt together and placed an elbow on the counter.

Jax smiled at me and took a bite of his sandwich. I waited patiently for him to chew and swallow the piece in his mouth because I had another question for him.

“Ask me. I can see it in your eyes,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Where’s Bondi Beach?” I asked sheepishly.

“About one hundred miles south,” he replied with a smirk.

“What? That doesn’t make sense. I’ve never heard of a ‘Bondi Beach’ anywhere near Wyoming,” I replied in confusion.

Jax finished his sandwich in silence. He took the plate to the sink and washed it thoroughly followed by his hands, then came back to retrieve the fork.  Once that was washed and he had the dishwasher properly loaded, he took the sponge, wet it, and wiped the counter clean. Clearing his throat, he took his place on the stool across from me again and drummed his fingers on the countertop.

“What makes you think you’re still in Wyoming, Riley? Or in America for that matter?” he asked conversationally.

“Why wouldn’t I think that?” I countered reasonably. “I don’t have a passport Jax; no airport, or any port for that matter, would let me out of the United States.”

He smiled and got to his feet. He left the kitchen and told me he’d be right back and not to move. I sighed resting my chin in the palm of my hand. I didn’t believe him and he knew it.

“May I have your hands please?” he asked walking back into the kitchen. His hands were behind his back obviously hiding something from me.

“Why?” I asked suspiciously.

“Because I’m going to take you outside, and I’d rather that you not try to run away,” he replied simply.

This is your chance, Riley. Take it! Run and scream ‘fire’ so people pay attention!

“Your hands,” he prompted softly.

I slowly climbed off of the stool and walked over to Jax. He gave me a small smile as I held my hands out in front of me.

“Not that way,
this
way,” he said turning me around.

With swift movements, he pulled my hands behind my back and secured some kind of leather cuffs around my wrists. I stood in place while he buckled them securely, before turning me to the side and snapping a chain in between them. He balled the chain around his fist and ran his free hand gently down the side of my face smiling at me.

“Don’t you look absolutely beautiful like this,” he whispered leaning down into my ear.

Feeling his breath on the side of my face again was so intoxicating that I closed my eyes for a moment. I was getting the same familiar feeling I had in the bookstore.

The ... bookstore?

I opened my eyes and turned my face completely toward him. He, undaunted by my sudden movement, let our lips graze each other’s briefly before he stood back up to his full height.

“You were in the bookstore,” I said.

“Memory coming back to you? I told you that it would once the dose wears off. But we’ll worry about all of this later. I have something to prove to you right now. But first ...”

His voice trailed off as he stood there staring at me. After about ten seconds of inspecting me he pulled me toward him and let his hand wander up the back of my over shirt. I stood there helpless to stop him as he flicked the hooks on my bra.

Okay. Stay calm; he can’t get the fucking thing completely off of you if you’re hands are tied behind your back.

Jax stepped back for a moment and looked at me, before he shook his head, “That won’t do, will it?”

He led me to the counter we had been sitting at and pulled open a drawer. I heard him rifling around in it before brandishing a pair of sharp scissors and coming back toward me.
*Snip, snip*
;
t
he straps were cut and the bra hit the floor. Jax stepped back for a moment and nodded in satisfaction before he put the scissors away and picked up the bra, tossing it into the garbage can underneath the counter.

“Much better,” he murmured.

I dug my heels into the floor as he began to pull me forward. I was already embarrassed enough to just be standing in front of him half naked; there was no way in hell I was going to be paraded outside for everyone else to see to.

“Riley?” he asked giving the chain a pull.

“Absolutely not,” I replied.

“But I didn’t ask you if you wanted to,” he replied with a small smile.

“There’s no way in hell that I’m going outside with my tits hanging out for the world to see,” I said stubbornly pulling on the chain.

“Again, I didn’t
ask
you if you wanted to,” he said, yanking me roughly toward him.

“I said
no,
” I spat back trying to pull away from him again.

He looked outraged and angry for a moment, just a precious moment, before he nodded and lifted me off of the ground.

“Apparently, we need to start our lessons earlier than I thought,” he said quietly. I bucked in his arms trying to get away from him and he stopped walking. He gave me an angry look and took me into the living room, where he tossed me onto the floor. I landed hard on my stomach and grunted when he gently pressed his knee into my side to hold me in place. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I heard him open a box of some sort. The next thing I knew, I had another pair of leather cuffs around me, but these were on my ankles. And the chain ... The chain he had balled up around his fist was now holding my wrists and ankles together at an odd angle.

The bastard had hogtied me. I knew better than to struggle in this position because there was a danger of dislocation. So, I lay there on my stomach, hogtied, while he went into the kitchen to retrieve another bowl of cereal. A minute or two later, he came back, turned the television on and sat on the couch arm again.

I
can’t believe he went to bed and left me like this.

I was still on my stomach and hogtied on the lushly carpeted living room. Jax hadn’t said a single word to me since he put me in this position; he just turned off the television and the lights when he was done and went upstairs.

My arms were aching terribly and I felt myself becoming tired. I kept fighting the sleep off though. I didn’t want to relax and then tear something because of it. I sighed and rested my face on the carpet trying to think of ways to stay awake. Another hour (I think) passed when I heard him humming as he descended the staircase.

The light in the living room flipped on and I turned my face to watch him. I expected that he would come over and take these fucking things off of me because that would be the right thing to do.

I expected incorrectly.

After he had crouched down in front of the entertainment center and picked out a movie, he walked out of the living room again and switched the lights off on the way out.