True Control (8 page)

Chapter 19 HER

I’m on TV again. Well, my picture is anyway. Ben likes to watch the evening news before bed. He likes to snore through it. The copious amounts of whatever he’s been drinking finally taking its toll. My few moments of peace.

He keeps me on the floor, forcing my head against his knee. Bitch gets to be on the sofa with him. Better you than me, Bitch.

The news has been running Max’s pleas. Mom and Dad have appeared a few times. Ron and Alex. Jake. PJ and Cathy. I’ve even seen a few interviews with friends. A crying Laura. An angry Tracy. Former co-workers. Neighbors. I never knew how many people thought they were close to me. People I barely know showing their faces with tears for the cameras.

Mom and Alex looked terrible. Crazed in the eyes. Too many tears, not enough sleep. I’ve avoided looking at myself in the mirror. Too many bruises and cuts, not enough food or sleep. I’m wearing down. I can feel it. I can feel my mind chasing down a hole, light getting less and less. I can still hear Max, but it’s painful now. Too distant to be real. I can only pretend to be strong for so long.

Max promised to find me. To get me home. Where I belong.

He said it in that voice I know so well. I respond. Despite sitting at this man’s feet. Bruised and beaten. Every inch of me covered in pain. I respond each time. The news loves to show that part of his plea. The distraught husband, barely holding back tears. But I know the truth. He’s barely holding back anger.

The usual stomach zing. Pussy flutter. I let one little tear fall the first time I heard it.

When Ben is fucking me, I’ve tried to think of Max. I’ve tried to pretend, to make it through. Sometimes this helps. Sometimes I can almost forget all the pains and hide in a memory of being with Max. Feeling only the pain he gives me. Only the love of his strong touch. I stop these thoughts now…I don’t have the energy to keep up the image for long.

I put my hand over my stomach. The news is reporting on my possible pregnancy again. I don’t know if I am. I could be.

Tired. Sore breasts. Nauseous.

But then again…I’ve been tied, raped, beaten…that’s bound to make a girl feel a little badly, right?! I hold back my laugh.

When Ben heard that I might be pregnant…I can barely hold back my shudder remembering….

He’d grabbed me by the arm and punched my stomach. Hard. And laughed. He was delighted with his own threat, “You’ll do exactly as I say, bitch, or so help me, I’ll punch you again and not stop until you’re bleeding out your cunt one way or another.” He can really be quite poetic in his crazy rants.

He believes that this gives him more power over me. It does.

But he was nicer after that. Well…a little gentler anyway…he lets me wear the sweatshirt more and unties me when he’s home. He’s still brutal. I bleed from my head to my toes. I’m a bruised, bloody pulp.

Oh, God. He’ll be home all day tomorrow. It’s Saturday. Today, it’s been a week.

I don’t know how much longer I can hold myself together.

And if I am pregnant…I cradle my stomach. I can’t think about that.

Hold on, baby.
I’m trying…but I need something to hold on to, Max.

I let my tears fall silently. Ben still snores, but I feel Bitch stir above me. I think she’s smarter than him. She alerts him to my mood changes. I sniffle and wipe my nose on the sweatshirt. The crusted blood from this morning wipes off and I have to stifle a small cry.

Bitch sits up, making Ben move and curse. I close my eyes for the one more second of peace I’ll have. I almost don’t scream when Ben grabs my hair and yanks my head up towards his lap. I swear Bitch is laughing at me, her ugly teeth exposed, watching me have to suck her master’s dick.

I imagine biting the head off. I imagine her biting my head off. I try to hide in my head…

Chapter 20 HIM

I wake to the phone ringing. It rang all night. Reporters again. No comment. I hang up.

At least Lucy’s pictures are splashed all over the news again.

The interviews with Tracy and Rich put the story back in the limelight. The poor husband turns out to be abusive asshole and possible chief suspect. Not news. But it does make for good TV.

The phone rings again. Killaney this time. He starts speaking the moment I pick up. “We have a lead. A dark blue sedan that was seen near where your wife went missing.” He’s out of breath. “I’m at your building now. I’ll be up in a minute.” He hangs up.

I dress quickly and knock on the guest room door on my way to the hall.

Dad comes out as I open the door to a red-faced Killaney, “We have a description of the car, no plates yet, but we know it’s Michigan. A Florida couple saw a woman that could’ve been Lucy being led to it. They’re from Michigan originally, so they remembered that much.”

He’s starting to believe me. To believe that I have what he calls a “freak” relationship with Lucy, but I didn’t have anything to do with her being taken or missing. Liz isn’t convinced. She refuses to come back here, just waits in the hotel for Paul to give her news.

“So…?”

“I need you to let us take the lead on this, Max. Your investigator needs to back off and give us the room we need to see this information through.”

I agree. But I’m lying. He knows it too. I won’t let anything stop me from doing what I can to find Lucy.

“The car description matches the one seen in your neighborhood last month. A delivery guy complained about it blocking the alley for three days, so he remembered it. But he can’t confirm the license plate was Michigan. He only
thinks
it could’ve been.” That information came from my investigator a few days ago.

“This is good news.” Dad claps my shoulder. Any news is good right now. But this is far from a strong lead.

But I have to hold onto something and this is the best we’ve had so far.

Hold on, baby. I will find you!

Chapter 20 HER

I wake to him fucking me. His usual grunts, groans, grinding.

I close my eyes. But this pisses him off. He grabs my throat, “Open your eyes, bitch.” I do.

“Tell me how you want it.”

Oh God. Not more of this crap?! “I want it hard.” He slaps me. My left eye is a mess of broken blood vessels and spidering rivers of bruises. The bone feels twice the size still. I yelp. He balls his hand into a fist and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to pull my head back into the bed.

“You wanna try again, bitch?”

I know what he wants. “I…want you…to fuck me harder…” He puts his hand back on my throat. “I need you…need your big dick…in my wet cunt.” His second favorite word. “Please…harder…” I’m getting good at acting in his one-man show. I even throw my head back like I could be cuming any minute, but I’m really just trying to get his hand off my throat. “Make my cunt…make me cum…” Oh God. I get a wave of nausea and dizziness. His hand is cutting off my air. “Please…” He finally cums, but takes his time releasing my throat, laying on top of me, crushing my lungs still.

When he finally moves, I roll away, coughing and retching. He kicks my ass and I fly off the bed. I land hard on Bitch, who yelps and whines. I roll off but not before she gets my arm with a good scrape of her teeth. I scream and scramble away like a crab. He laughs and calls Bitch up to the bed, but she doesn’t move for a minute. I stay on the floor, clutching my bleeding arm. Bitch finally stands, but doesn’t jump up. Good! I hurt her too.

Ben gets out of bed and kicks me hard on my thigh, his toenails cutting into me. Bitch follows him, limping out the door.

I get up slowly. My back creaks, stiff, but I can walk. I think he may have broken a rib when he hit me. The pain was intense and I can feel it throbbing again, a white hot pain that shouts above all the other spots crying out. I move slow, taking in shallow breaths and panting every few steps.

He already removed everything from the bathroom that could be helpful. The tiny window above the shower isn’t big enough to get through. The windows on all the rooms don’t open. Painted shut years ago, nailed securely yesterday by him. I’m trapped and he’s confident that I won’t be getting loose.

He intends to keep me here for a long time. He showed me yesterday the “fun toys” he was buying online to use on me. I shudder thinking about the whips, straps, masks, shackles…I can’t breathe and think of these things. I stop.
Breathe
.

I hiss as I wash my arm in the sink and wrap a towel around it. The teeth marks burn and throb. Hell, my whole body throbs. I stare at my reflection for a second.

I have fist marks, belt marks, hot metal spatula marks, cut marks. Every inch of me is covered. There’s blood in my hair from my right ear. My right wrist is purple and swollen. My upper lip is cracked and scabbed. My left eye is swelling again. I’m a mess.

And I’m trapped.

I can’t get out of here. I can only wait and hope.

But I’m losing hope, Max. I’m going insane losing hope. I can’t deal with what he has planned…

I’m going to have to do something. I can’t stay here. He’ll kill me eventually. In a drunken rage, he’ll do it without thinking. I start to cry again, but shout at myself to stop.

I can’t afford to let go. I have to think. I have to stay alert. Maybe I can find something that will hurt him. Maybe while he sleeps…

But what about Bitch?

I drop my head in desperate blackness. I can’t fight them both off. I can’t even fight at all.

I look at myself in the mirror again…I’m only getting more broken by the day…mentally and physically. I try to stand up, to take a deep breath. But I wince at my reflection.
Be strong
.

I hear Ben shouting at me and I turn away from the girl in the mirror…I can’t be her today. I can’t be strong when I’m this weak.

Chapter 21 HIM

We’re gathered again. Liz even came, but is staying near the door, away from me.

Killaney is debating with Eve about the release of the lead. It seems without any of the license plate numbers, there’s a chance that giving this detail to the public could be more harmful than good right now.

“If we throw this out there, then every crack pot in the tri-state area is going to be calling with information on a dark blue car. It could take us weeks to get anything out of the hotline that could be of real use.”

“Yes…but we need to keep the story going. Right now we’re seeing a good response to the…” She glances apologetically at me, “the negative publicity Max is getting. But the story won’t stay front and center if we don’t feed the reporters something new quick.”

I break in, “Could giving this information lead…” I don’t want to say it, “Could whoever has Lucy panic, thinking we’re close to finding her?”

Killaney nods. “Then we’re not releasing anything.” I turn to Liz and she nods, meeting my eyes for the first time. “But I agree, Eve. That we need to keep the press dangling. We’ll all give new statements this afternoon. And up the reward again.”

If the press wants drama, I’ll give it to ‘em.

Chapter 21 HER

I watch the news, waiting to see Max again. I hope I’ll get to see his face one more time before Ben drags me to bed. So far nothing.

Ben snores. Bitch snores. His hand in my hair on his knee as usual. Bitch next to him. He’s drunk again. I tuck my legs under the sweatshirt more. I’m cold and afraid to move too much. Last night when I tried to get more comfortable on the floor, he smashed my head into the coffee table for waking him.

I turn my eyes to the TV. I can just hear Max above the snores.

“My wife has been missing since last Friday.” He looks tired. Like he hasn’t eaten or slept. I want to touch the screen. My eyes cloud with tears but I blink them away. He’s giving all the details again. Nothing new. You have no idea where I am, do you?!

The reporters ask questions this time though. “How do you respond to the allegations that you were abusing your wife?” “Did you have anything to do with Lucy’s disappearance, Max?” “What about the ex-boyfriend…Do you think he helped her get away?”

I don’t know who they’re talking about. But Ben laughed yesterday, saying the police were looking at Max as their chief suspect. He didn’t give me any details. He was smug, drunk, and brutal as usual.

“I didn’t abuse my wife. Sure, I spanked her when she needed it…” He shrugs and even smiles for the camera. The reporters go crazy asking all sorts of personal questions. I’m shocked watching him talk about me, our marriage so casually. I’m missing and he’s acting like…like a macho ass! Like it’s no big deal to air the details of our marriage on the news! Like he’s proud to claim himself a dominant husband and me his submissive obedient wife. It’s just like the crap that made Ben notice me in the first place!

Max winks at the camera. It’s the look he gives me when he’s happiest with me. The smile, the love, the wink. I always know I’ve pleased him when I see this. I’m confused and frustrated. What the hell?!

Bitch stirs and farts. Ben takes his hand out of my hair and waves it in front of his face, lazily, slurring, “Fuck, Bitch! Let her out!”

I get up cautiously, watching man and dog. Bitch slides off the sofa. She’s still limping. She whimpered when he made her get up on the sofa earlier. She’s hardly moved all day. I smile at this, showing her my teeth.

She eyes me, but doesn’t growl. She’s a little more wary of me now. Good. I let her lead the way to the door. I slowly reach for the knob. No growl still. I open it quietly and let her out.

My heart is racing. This is as close to the door as I’ve been by myself!

What…what can I do?! I’m almost hyperventilating with the shallow breaths I can take.

I still myself and turn to see if Ben is watching me. His head is back on the sofa and I can hear his snores again. He’s been drinking since breakfast.

I take several breaths in and out.
Calm, baby. Focus.