If not for the surveillance photos Wyatt had shown me, I wouldn’t have recognized him, but there was no missing the mania in those eyes. Without that, I’d have thought I was being kidnapped by an old girl out to play the slots.
As thoughts of him locking me up—sorry, protecting and caring for me—crowd my mind, I’d much rather this was the case.
It doesn’t help that he’s driving like a myopic old lady, appearing to hit every pothole on offer and bouncing me around. With my hands tied behind my back and my feet tied to something else, there’s nothing I can do to brace myself.
“Dearest Phoebe,” he calls out over the easy listening track on the radio, “it really didn’t need to be this hard.”
Unable to speak, I scream my frustration against the gag in my mouth with this having me fighting to get enough air in through my nose.
“I know you’ve been testing our love with your resistance, but you’ll see, we’ll have a wonderful life together.”
If he’d said this to me at an upscale cocktail party, I might have viewed it as sweet, if slightly delusional. With me tied up in the back while he drives us who knows where, it’s enough to qualify him for a jacket that buckles up at the back.
“You’ll love your new home. I’ve got all your favorite things.”
He then falls silent, something I’m thankful for as it makes it easier to blot out my current reality. It’s just a shame he doesn’t remain this way. “You’re lucky I’m a patient man, but I tell myself our first time together must be special.”
Terror messing with my head, I don’t immediately grasp the import of what he’s said. I’m slow to realize that all he’d had time for when I was out cold, was manhandling me into the van.
“I really don’t know what you saw in that brute? Although that blonde he was cozying up to at the pool bar earlier seemed enamored.”
While his words are offhand, there’s nothing casual about the way my heart crumples like a soda can stomped on for the recycling.
It doesn’t matter that I’ve known Wyatt for less than a week. It’s as if I’ve known him my whole life. As if I’ve been waiting for him my whole life. Much as I’d never say the words ‘soul-mate’ within his hearing, this is exactly how I think of him.
As Ralph whips around another corner, I’m slammed into the side of the van. My tears aren’t down to the pain of the impact, but thanks to the knowledge Wyatt was never serious about me. How could I have gotten it so wrong?
I feel… I feel… I’m not sure what it is, but it’s like nothing before. While the initial attraction had been physical, I now see the man behind the mask. The hard shell created to protect the little boy still hiding inside.
“Sorry, I had to avoid a slow car.”
Ralph’s apology is as insincere as everything else about him. I ignore him, doing my best to wedge myself between our suitcases and the side of the van. With the way he’s driving, I’ll be a study in bruises by the time we get to wherever we’re going.
The realization then hits me that the bruises won’t matter because my modeling days are over. Life as I know it is over and I’ll never see my family again. It hurts even more to know I’ll never see Wyatt again. It doesn’t matter that he wasn’t serious about me, I was serious about him.
As my new reality makes itself felt, tears run unbidden down my face. How long before the psycho up front wearies of me? How long before I’m as nuts as he is? How long before he gets rid of me?
My mind is awhirl with images of me dressed like something out of the Stepford Wives, when he slows down and pulls off the road. Surely we’re not already at the ‘love nest’?
I’m not sure why, but I’d thought it would be in LA, although this could have been down to my optimistic nature. If it’s out in the country somewhere, I’m truly lost forever.
Unable to face so bleak a future, I shut my eyes tight and take some comfort in squishing my face up against my suitcase. However, there’s nothing wrong with my ears and I know to the second he exits the van.
I’m on high alert, waiting for the back doors to open. Only they don’t.
Never have I been so pleased to be left alone. It tells me we might not have reached our destination, so if I can make enough noise, perhaps someone will hear me?
Unfortunately, because of how I’m hog-tied, the only thing free to smack against the side of the van is the back of my head. My hopes of a quick release dashed, I once again close my eyes and sag to the van floor.
On the back door opening, they soon flash open and I’m momentarily blinded by the light streaming in. It’s not Ralph. Rather, it’s Wyatt, and he looks as relieved to see me as I am to see him.
I don’t care that I was only light relief; he’s here to save me.
My tears fall fast, although it’s now down to relief rather than resignation at my fate. When he reaches inside to pull the gag from my mouth, I’m ready to tell him everything. However, him putting a finger to his lips says we’re not in the clear yet.
That’s not all he has to say, with his next words flooring me as much, if not more, than Ralph’s ramblings.
I’m still grappling with the fact he’s said he loves me when he shuts the door. This leaves me staring at the unadorned metal doors, unable to grasp how he could tell me he loves me in one breath, and then leave me to my fate.
