“What the f—What are you talking about?! I don’t even know you! I haven’t taken anything fromanyone!”
They quickly reach behind them with a fresh needle full of a sedative cocktail.
“No! No! Okay. Yes. I took something from you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You can have it back.”
This person is clearly unhinged. Denying whatever reality they think exists won’t help me. I just have to play along with them, accept what they’re saying is the truth. Be on their side.
They quickly erase the whiteboard and start writing so fast I can hear the marker squeaking against the plastic.
Not something.Someone.
My brows furrow. I’m so confused.
“Someone?” I ask, not understanding what this psychopath is talking about. They’re delusional. And in this condition, I’m in no shape to give them back anything or anyone.
They tap the board again, reiterating that I’ve takensomeonefrom them.
“Who? Who have I taken from you?”
More angry scribbling. I’m about to lose my shit. I can’t handle this. I haven’t done anything. I’m being held and tortured by some crazy person.
Margeaux.
“M-Margeaux?”
They put the white board down and I see them grab the syringe once more.
“No. No. Please.”
I thrash in the chair, uselessly attempting to break free. Not because I’m scared for my life anymore. This is about Margeaux. This person wants to hurt her. I can’t let that happen. They can do anything they want to me. I won’t let them hurt Margeaux.
Another prick of the needle and I know I only have seconds before I disappear again.
“Fuck you!” I spit at them, earning me a hard slap across the face just before the lights go out completely.
33
MARGEAUX
Fuck waiting any longer.I haven’t slept in a day and a half since I got that creepy letter from the fucker who’s stalking me. They took Jon!
I pull up to the cheap motel, just outside of town, where I went to college. It seems even dirtier and disgusting than I remember. All I’ve been thinking about is Jon, and if he’s okay. If this asshole hurt him, or…worse. I’ll never forgive myself.
Jon is the best person I’ve ever met, and I’ve been hating myself for even thinking he would just ghost me like I meant nothing to him. If…whenI get him out of here, we will work out a way to be closer, have less distance between us. If that’s something he will even want after all of this. I can’t imagine a guy like him thinking a girl like me is worth any time or energy after he’s been abducted and held captive by a guy who raped me in college.
I’ll totally understand if Jon is ready to wash his hands of me and go back to living his simple, quiet life in Paramount. Until he tells me that, he’s still mine and I’m getting us out of this fucking nightmare.
I know exactly which room he’s in. I look at the faded blue door and tacky gold doorknob. I want to throw up so badly. Just standing outside this room makes my skin crawl. I take one final scan aroundthe parking lot. Aside from one or two random cars, there’s nobody else here. This is stupid, reckless. Love will make you do all sorts of things, I guess.
I raise my hand to knock and rethink that decision. Why the fuck should I perform any type of formality? I gently try the doorknob, and it’s locked. Of course. I put my ear to the door and don’t hear anything.
“Fuck it,” I grunt to myself as I put my boot to the door, slamming it open.
The afternoon sun fills the room. I ignore the cringey bed and only focus on one thing.
“Jon!” I run for him, taking in his limp body, tied to a fucking chair. “Oh, no. Come on. Wake up, Jon.” I shake his arm, examining him. His face has dried blood all over, plus some bad bruises on his cheeks. His breathing is slow, but steady. “Jon, wake up, Doc.Please.” I’m doing my best to not cry. I look around the room for something to cut off these fucking zip ties on his hands and feet.
Stupid me, I didn’t even think to bring a weapon. The least I could do was bring a fucking knife. Fuck, Doc. I’m sorry I’m so reckless and stupid. I kiss his chin and then get a strong smell of piss.
