True Control (7 page)

Chapter 17 HER

I hate you, Bitch. I’ve always been a dog person. But from this point forward, I don’t know that I’ll ever look at one the same.

She lies next to me. A large, stinky black rug. But she’s free to move around. I’m locked in her cage. She’s locked out of it.

With my hands tied again, in a ball, I take up the same space she does probably on the dog bed. It smells like piss and hair and everything evil. I turn my face away, but it doesn’t matter. I smell like it I’m sure.

She sniffed at me the first hour, trying to figure out why I’m in here and she isn’t. Her big wet black nose running all along the metal bars.

Ben went to work. He called in sick for two days. He’s sick all right. I don’t know what he does. I don’t care. I just hope that he’s gone for a long time. This is as close to peace as I’ve had in days.

Every inch of me is hurt. He’s gone from almost nice, civilized even, letting me sit at the table, wear a smelly shirt to crazed maniac, hitting with his fists and feet, not caring where his blows land. Always ending the same. I squeeze my legs together. I’m sore and swollen, throbbing. My pussy lips are torn, my thighs bruised, my ass…I can’t think of any of this. I close my eyes again and breathe. Small, shallow breaths to avoid the smell. I’m used to the collar now, I don’t even feel it as I breathe.

Before he left, he carried me in here and laughed when he said that Bitch would keep me company today. He means that even if I somehow got my hands loose, it wouldn’t matter because his dog would treat me like a chew toy if I tried to leave.

He demonstrated this very effectively last night. Slurring and drunk, he sat back on the sofa and made me walk towards the door. Inches from my freedom, hand on the doorknob, Bitch growled a low deep rumbling of hunger right behind me. He told me not to move until the dog was back at his side. You couldn’t have paid me to move! My legs were liquid with fear.

I open my eyes again and watch her. She’s just itching to get her teeth into me, I know it. Her black eyes have stared at me all day. I know what you’re thinking…that I took him from you. Well, you can have him! I say this out loud. I think I’m going crazy. She only tweaks her ears at my voice. She rolls and closes her eyes again.

I’ve heard Max’s voice more today. He keeps pressuring me to figure a way out. Like I’m not trying.

I have several barriers. Dog. Man. Cold. Clothes. Pain. Hunger. Weak…I am weak with everything. How many days has it been?

But you can’t give up, baby.

I’m not. But…I can admit…no I can’t!

I need to just stay calm and wait. I’ll be found. Max will find me. I have to have faith in that.

But what if he doesn’t…

You better get that thought out of your head, little girl.

Max. I pretend the hair stuck to me is yours. The nasty dog smell is yours after a hard run. The pain between my legs, yours. All my pain. Yours.

But I don’t fool myself for long. The metal around my throat. Metal under me poking through the thin bed. I am not home. I am not safe.

And yes. Dammit. I can say it…I blame you, Max…you said you’d keep me safe. There.

Ben…
you
talked to him, Max.
You
made
me
talk to him. I think back…how I flaunted my submissiveness on our honeymoon. How proud you were…you liked how other men saw you, saw me. I felt so free. It was the first time I truly embraced what I was. Max’s property.

I didn’t say those words to myself; I didn’t have to. He’d said them. He’s said them plenty since then. But that was the beginning of me accepting it. No. The beginning of me wanting it that way. And I was proud of myself for showing off for him.

I moan, a soft low cry.

I’ve held my tears in for as long as I could…thinking of Max, how we were, how I was…I let go and cry, big open sobs of snotty release. Bitch stirs, but only to move her head a little away from me.

I was free…and now I’m in a cage with a fucking dog and I can’t get out! So stop talking to me!

But I stop crying at this thought. I’m sorry, Max. I’m sorry.

I need to stay calm. Focus. Not go crazy.

Maybe not go crazy should be first on that list...

Chapter 18 HIM

“The police haven’t found anything?”

“No.” Laura shakes her head and looks around the room. Lucy’s Mom and Dad are talking in hushed tones by the terrace doors with PJ. Mom is quiet at the table; Liz had her crying again after watching a piece on Lucy’s disappearance on the evening news. Dad and Jake are next to her. “They just left. The eye witnesses that may have seen Lucy Friday weren’t very helpful.  Too many conflicting stories and details to be of any use. My investigators aren’t giving up, but…We don’t really have anything to go on right now.” My voice breaks with admitting this out loud. I wipe my hand over my face to cover my need to yell.

“I’m so sorry, Max!” Laura’s eyes fill with tears. She’s called every day, but I told her to stay away while the mob was still downstairs. A week after Lucy’s disappearance and no new news, the press is onto some scandal or something. There’s only a few reporters and cameras downstairs now.

I pat her hand on my knee. She’s Lucy’s best friend and a sweet girl, but any sign of tears or softness puts me on edge right now. Her expression changes though and she leans in a little. I frown. “I…I just wanted to let you know…” She’s whispering this to me. “Tracy talked to the police this morning. When they came to the office…”

I knew this was happening. Killaney told me that he talked to Lucy’s doctors yesterday. He seemed only a little more convinced that I shouldn’t be his main suspect. I assumed they’d already talked to her former boss and co-workers. My investigators had. I only nod.

“She…she told them that she thought
you
might have something to do with…” I only nod again. I’m not surprised. Not even angry. “I’m so sorry, Max…” I pat her hand again. No use even thinking about any of that.

Tracy can say what she wants. I don’t care. As long as it doesn’t interfere with the police investigation.

I’m getting used to being numb. Scotch helps.

Laura gets up and walks over to Liz, Paul, and PJ. I stay on the sofa with my head in my hands. Dad comes over to sit next to me. But he doesn’t say anything. He knows there’s nothing to say.

I need some time alone. A week surrounded by people. A week of being investigated myself. A week of losing my fucking mind with fear and hopelessness. I get up and walk into the bedroom, quietly closing the door. I haven’t shed any tears, except the ones in my dreams. I have to hold it together. Until Lucy’s home. But I can feel the tears are close, my eyes burn. My gut is retching.

I calmly walk into the closet and punch the wall. The impact feels good. I can breathe again. I shake my hand and go to the bathroom to rinse it under cool water. The knuckles are red, but I didn’t break the skin. This has been my routine lately. The only release I allow myself.

The man looking at me from the mirror isn’t me. His eyes are hollow, deep in dark circles. Jaw covered in the start of a beard. Hair matted down from hours of running my hands through the waves. And I stink. Too much scotch, too little bathing.

My hands have been idle for too long. I need to do something.

I go back to the closet and get my running shoes. I have to get my head clear again. I have to get myself under control again. I won’t last if I keep this up.

Fuck. I have no idea how long I’ll have to last…Nightmares usually end when your eyes open. This one just keeps going.

Chapter 18 HER

I slept. I lost track of time. Bitch didn’t. She gets up and leaves the back room. To wait for him. I can see the light is gone from the window.

I shudder. No, please…a little longer.

His boots come into view and I hear the metal scraping as he opens the door. I yell as he drags me out by my hair and arm.

All wind is knocked out of me when his boot meets with my stomach. A fiery pain, a thudding pain, a new pain. I can’t breathe. My eyes try to gulp in air, my left still barely able to open. My mouth a fish seeking bubbles. My body wants to stretch, to get the most air, but my brain takes over, I ball up.

He picks me up before I can stop gasping and carries me to his bedroom, tossing me on bed. I almost bounce off but he’s on me too quickly.

His dick shoves into me from the side. He uses my whole body to push and pull me onto himself. His grunts have the stale smell of liquor. I can feel my lips tearing again. I shudder at the wetness. My body has taken over, providing what my brain refuses. I’ve been wet for him when he rapes me. A small relief against the pain. Or is it the pain that gives me relief? I run from this thought.

I can feel him. I’ve tried to back away. To shrink from all knowledge of what he’s doing. To hide in oblivion of denial. But there’s no denying the feel. The pain. The push. The pull.

I laugh, hiding this in a cry out. He doesn’t go as deep as Max. He’s not as big. In a crazy moment, I have to bite my tongue to stop from yelling this at him.
Don’t be stupid, baby. Hang on
.

But I pray for a time when I can shout this at him. When I can tell him that I laughed while he fucked me.

I break down in tears, because he doesn’t stop. He just keeps pushing and pulling, fucking me harder and grunting.

He staggers back when he’s done. I take one big gulp of air, but this is turned to screams when he brings his fists down on me, my head, arms, back, legs, side. He tries to turn me over, but I hold onto the mattress through the cover, my fingers claws. He’s too drunk, stumbling with his punches. I protect my stomach, my face.

Finally he stops, panting. I can hear his belt jingle as he steps out of his pants.

I shake and cry, sobbing into the mattress. Everywhere hurts. But I put my bound hands to my stomach. Please, no. Please.

“Get up.” He pushes my hips on the bed.

I obey. For fear of more fists. I move quickly. I don’t know how. But I stand next to him. He grabs the rope holding my wrists and leads me into the bathroom. He turns the hot water on and shoves me towards the shower. With my hands bound, I turn the knob to cooler before stepping in. He doesn’t notice. He’s drunk.

“You stink, bitch.”
You
stink, asshole! But I’m grateful for the warm water. I put my hands forward, the ropes wet and sores hurting. He laughs. “No. You’ll stay tied tonight, cunt!” He watches as I quickly wash. I’m stiff and can’t move easily, but I’m thankful to remove any trace of him or his dog. I’m yanked out before I can rinse all the soap off.

He dries me roughly. I try not to look when his hand and towel goes between my legs. There’s blood. Naked and still dripping from my hair, he leads me towards the kitchen. “Make me something to eat, bitch.” He slurs.

Does he come home drunk every night? He’s been drinking every night so far…Can I use this?

But he opens the door and the damn dog is at my heels again.

How am I supposed to get out of here, Max?!

Chapter 19 HIM

“Did he have any ideas where she’d go?” I hear Liz’s voice bouncing high in my living room. She sounds a little angry and a whole lot hysterical. I walk in, closing the door quietly behind me, wiping sweat from my eyes.

I hear Killaney’s voice answer her in his calming tone, “No, Ma’am.”

The run did what I needed it to. I’m clearer. I was able to think again without feeling the need to either heave or hit. I walk down my hall slowly.

Paul is sitting behind Liz. PJ standing next to her. Mom, Dad, and Jake all standing separate to the side. Liz is inches from Killaney. She looks and sounds upset. I have a tightening in my stomach, but I keep walking.

Her eyes dart to me. She’s all anger now. “What did you do to her?!” She takes one step towards me, but Paul stands and grabs her arm, PJ moving closer to her too. “What did you do to Lucy?!”

Everyone moves in a little. I stay where I’m at. I address Killaney calmly, “Do you have any news? Any new leads?” I fear what he’s going to say.

He steps in front of Liz a little. “No. But we did have an interesting conversation today with a former co-worker of your wife.”

I relax a little. I was expecting this. On my run, I went through how this would play out. What would be the best and fastest way to get the police off this trail and back onto the one that leads to finding Lucy. I know Tracy squawking about me will cause waves. I just have to wait it out.

Jake and Dad are both giving me warning looks. I know Dad doesn’t want me to go into my marriage more with this detective; he thinks it’ll look bad for me. I don’t care about that. I care about finding my wife.

“We spoke with Rich Tesson.”

I can feel my jaw clenching, but I keep my hands loose. I don’t like hearing that name. I only narrow my eyes. Waiting for the rest.

Killaney pretends to look at his notes. “He said he was good friends with your wife until you stepped in.” I still remain silent. “Said he was afraid for her. That you had a violent temper.” Silence. I can hear Liz breathing heavily behind him. “He even said you threatened him. To break his arms if he so much as looked at your wife again.”

Killaney isn’t going to continue. He waits out my silence now. “Yes.”

Killaney’s surprised look. “I’m going to need more than that, Max…”

“Yes. I told Lucy that she wasn’t to see or speak with him again. And I told him the same.”

“Did you threaten him?”

“No. I
promised
him.” I can’t help the little grin I let slip. A small release of the anger I feel at the memory of threatening the fuck who dared to touch my wife.

“And did you threaten Lucy…?”

“No.” I take a breath and sigh. I can see Dad’s small head shake. Jake’s too. “I didn’t need to threaten my wife, Detective. We’ve been through this already. I gave her an order and she obeyed it. No questions.”

“You sonofabitch!” Liz pulls against her held arm. Killaney turns a little so she can see me. But he keeps his eyes on me; he’s waiting to see my reaction, but I give none. “Did you hurt her?! Did you hurt my baby?!”

Killaney raises his eyebrows. He wants an answer to her question.

Dad moves to step next to me, but I give him a small shake of my head and stern look to stop.

I look at Killaney as I answer. “We’ve already been through this. I punished Lucy for letting Rich touch her.”

“Oh my God.” Liz is shaking, staring at me in disbelief. I ignore her.

“That was the night you spoke of spanking your wife?” I nod. He turns towards Jake. “The same night you were worried about Lucy and started seeing her on a regular basis?” Jake nods slightly. “And this was about five months ago?” He’s back to looking at me. I can see that he’s trying to stay calm, for Liz’s sake I’m guessing. I’m already calm.

“Yes.”

Killaney purses his lips and stares at his notes. Liz doesn’t like his silence. She pulls free from Paul and faces him again. “Aren’t you going to do something? Arrest him? He just admitted to
hurting
my daughter?!”

He speaks slowly and calmly, turning to her a little more, “Ma’am…we are looking into every possibility. But…” He looks at me again and I know he’d like nothing more than to arrest me. He’d like this to be over. “But I can’t arrest him for this.”

“Why not?!” She glares at me, “Look at him. All smug! He just confessed to you!”

He shakes his head. “Mr. Tesson didn’t file charges. And neither did your daughter. I have nothing to go on, Ma’am.”

I speak up, ignoring Liz, “You spoke to Lucy’s doctors, too. They had nothing to report, did they?” Killaney shakes his head. He’s not convinced. But he’s stuck. “So where are you on the investigation, Detective? What are you doing right
now
to find my wife?”

He shakes his head again and looks at Liz as he answers. “We’re doing everything we can. Right now the hotlines are our best chance of finding something that will lead us in the right direction.”

She shakes more and collapses into herself. Paul leads her to sit on the sofa while she covers her face and cries.

Killaney moves towards the front door, but stops close to me. “I’m not through with this line of questioning…” When I don’t move, he finally walks out.

I turn to head into my bedroom, but Liz jumps up to confront me. “You hurt Lucy?! You
spanked
her?!”

Paul has ahold of her shoulders. I look at him. He’s not shocked by what he’s heard tonight. Lucy didn’t tell him everything, but just before the wedding he talked to her. She admitted to how things are between us and said she was happy. I look back at Liz. “Yes.”

She shakes and almost spits in an hysterical angry laugh, “I can’t believe this. I cannot believe you are standing here…saying this!”

“Liz.” I take a deep breath. The frustration of the last week. Of having everyone here. Living in a fishbowl of questions with no answers. At being powerless to help my Lucy. I have to take a moment to get my anger in check. “My marriage to your daughter is not yours to question.”

“The Hell it isn’t!”

“Paul.” I ignore Liz. “I’ll see you both in the morning.” I turn back to my bedroom door, but Liz isn’t shutting up.

“No. You’ll answer me! What did you to Lucy? Have you done something to her…do you know where she is?!”

I don’t turn all the way around, just enough so I can look directly at her again. “Lucy is mine. My wife. My property. What I’ve done to her is none of your business.” She only blinks at me, in a state of shock. I don’t soften my voice or look, “But I can assure you that this…” I shake my head. “…I want Lucy here. Now. Where she belongs. I had nothing to do with her disappearance.”

I don’t wait for her response. I quietly close my bedroom door and head to the bathroom. I’m shaking. My anger and pain too close to the surface. I ignore the yelling in the living room.

Dad and Mom, Liz and Paul. The quieter voices of PJ and Jake. I head into the shower to drown them out.