Page 36 of Hard Focus
Connie groaned and reached a hand up to her head, tracing the edges of a huge goose egg on the side of her head. It felt like the one she’d gotten in the accident, just placed differently. She winced at the contact, pulling her hand back and staring in confusion at the dark red stains on the tips of her fingers. “What?” Her voice was weak, tired sounding, and she pushed up on one elbow to scan the room. “Why am I back in bed here?”
Jonas’ things were scattered here and there, the room quite a bit more disorganized than she’d ever seen it. Front and center on the middle of his dresser was the photo from her apartment,the oneof them together. She knew Addy had been just out of frame when the photo was taken, but the illusion of intimacy gave the image a quality she’d liked. “It’s a lie,” she whispered, staring at the photo, not certain why she felt so upset at the image being here in Jonas’ apartment. “Why am I here?”Didn’t we break up?
“Hello?” She tried to swing her legs off the bed, startled when her left one came up short, a cold band pressing into her leg. Kicking the covers off, she stared at the shiny metal ring fastened around her ankle. “What the—?” Tentative at first, she tried to pull her foot towards her, frowning when it only traveled a few inches. Sitting upright, she scooted her butt down in bed and wrapped her hands around the dainty, silver chain attached to a loop on one side of the shackle. Pulling hard on the connected metal links, all she accomplished was sliding farther down the sheets on the mattress, the fabric of the sheets rough against her skin. She stared down at herself in shock.
All she was wearing was a shirt she vaguely remembered putting on thatmorningand her underwear. Connie’s head was pounding,andshe touched the bump again, pressing against the swelling until she hissed with the pain. But with the pain came clarity, and memories from the past several weeks came flooding into her mind.
Jonas.A rapist.
Cole.A hero.
She looked wildly around the room, taking note of differences since the last time she’d been here. Clothing was strewn everywhere, but it was a mix of his clothes and women’s wear. There were black stockings piled on top of a skirt by thedoor,and a shirt with what looked like lipstick along the shoulder.
Frantic to get free, Connie heaved at the chain, grunting when it slipped through her grip, tearing her skin as it did so. “Ah.” Stifling the rest of her groan, she sucked at her bleeding fingers, studying the metal contraption holding her captive.There has to be a way. She scooted off the bed on the nearsideand knelt to look at where the chain attached to the bed. It was bolted in place, and when she gripped themetal,her fingers slipped off the slick surface.Oh, no. This was not a new installation, and Connie wondered where the chain had been the times she’d spent in this room before. The leg of the bed was wooden, and she rattled the footboard experimentally.Was this always his plan?There was some give there, the joints glued instead of fastened more securely.
Footsteps echoed from the hallway,andshe scrambled back onto the edge of the mattress in a panic, gathering up the top sheet and wrapping it protectively around herself. She’d known somewhere in the back of her mind that it had to be Jonas who had knocked her out and brought her here, choking her from behind in the parking lot. Still, it was one thing to tell herself that, and another to watch as he walked through the door, closing it carefully behind him. He balanced a small tray on one palm, using the other to scrape his hair back from his face.
She studied him, shocked. He looked ill, facedrawnand lined as if he’d been sick for days, weeks maybe. His skin was sallow,andhis hair was greasy-looking as it hung in disheveled hanks around his face, his eyes were ringed by dark shadows, and when he stared at her, it was with pain and anger. The fear in the room was hers alone.
“Connie.” His voice ripped through her name, making a weapon out of it. “Good old Connie. Man, I bet you’re surprised to be back here, huh?”
“What are you doing, Jonas?” She shook her head, still-bleeding fingers sticking to the sheet as she clutched it tighter. “Why am I here?”
“You’re here to make it all better again.” He shrugged, shoving things out of the way on the dresser to make room for the tray. “I needed you, and you weren’t here.” A woman’s purse fell to the floor, change and a lipstick tube scattering when it hit. Connie jumped at the sudden crash of sound, heart in her throat. She stared at the items on the floor, their presence an implication of so much.Oh my God. “So, you’re here now.”
“Jonas, you can’t just keep me.” Connie watched his eyes narrow; they shone with anger as he glared at her.He bashed me in the head. What more had he done to the woman who owned that purse?I have to try. Without much hope of success, she attempted to reason with him. “I have to go to work. Go home.”
“No, you have to stay here.” He shook his head slowly. “It’s the only way things will go back to how they were.”
“How do you think they were?” She fisted one hand and pressed it between her breasts, holding the sheet in place, ignoring how it shook. “You think things were good?”Connie, don’t argue with him. Clear asdayshe thought she heard her father’s voice, and Connie glanced around the room in confusion. “Daddy?”
“No, I’m the kid’s dad, not yours. Come on, Connie. How hard did you hit your head?” He turned and shuffled things around on the tray before picking something up and looking back at her. She stared at the knife in his hand, the edge twinkling in the light coming from the windows. She couldn’t take her eyes off the knife, tracking it as he gestured with the blade, slashing carelessly through the air as he spoke. “I heard you, you know. On the phone in the garage? Right before you came back here with me.”Came back here with him? He’s delusional. He’d spoken as if she’d been given a choice, as if he’d invited her back to his house. His casual delivery of a blatant lie shocked her, and she watched his face grow more animated as he spoke.He believes what he’s saying. “You were talking to her brother, weren’t you? That’s who you talked to.” His voice raised a register, and infalsetto,he imitated her conversation with Cole. “Oh, Cole, you’re so sweet. I can’t stand it.” Shoulders hunched, he glared at her, his voice returning to normal. “No, what I can’t stand is the idea of you with him. You’re mine. You belong to me. Your little act made me so sick I missed you there and had to follow you to work instead. That wasn’t part of the plan. Your fault.”
Delusional, she reminded herself. She didn’t belong to him, and she was stronger than he gave her credit for. Her father had raised her to believe in herself, and she knew there’d be no rescue from this.If I’m going to get out of here breathing, I have to be smarter than him. He’d asked her for something, and as long as she kept him focused on that instead of Cole, it might give her time to find a way out. “What do you want from me, Jonas?”That’s good, use his name. She knew she’d heard that tactic somewhere in the past, probably from her father as he talked through some situation at work. Personalize him and her, try to make sure he saw her as someone, not a thing that could be used and disposed of. She glanced at the shirt with the red on it again, suddenly convinced the slash of color wasn’t lipstick. The wound on her head and knife in his hand were proof of what Jonas was capable of. Kidnapper, rapist…murderer?What else has he done?“What do you need me to do?”
“I need you to call my PO and tell him she got it wrong.” He shuffled and hooked his thumb into the waistband of his pants. Something was not right, off, because these weren’t Jonas’ mannerisms. He’d always been confident to the point of being cocky, not off-balance and uncertain. The change went along with his physical appearance, and together told her something significant had happened to drive him to the edge. “Because they’re talking about pulling my probation. I don’t want that. I won’t go back.” He tapped the tip of the blade against the edge of the dresser,andshe watched as the sharp knife gouged into the wood with each blow. He ran his other hand through his hair again, gripping the back of his neck as he looked around the room, seeming surprised by what he saw. “I won’t. Never again, you hear me? I’ll die first.”
She latched onto the potential lifeline he’d given out in the first part of his dialogue, and told him, “I’ll need my phone to call him. I’ll do whatever you need, Jonas. You tell me who to talk to, and I will.”
Shaking his head, he straightened, his body posture changing again as he adopted a more aggressive bearing. “You’ll tell him about this, though, won’t you? That’ll ruin everything. You can’t, Connie. Don’t make me hurt you.” That last was accompanied by a quick thrust of the blade her direction and Connie found her focus fixed on the tip of the knife. “Don’t do it.”
Oh, God. It was hard to swallow past the ball of terror in her throat, muscles working to clear the way for gulps of air.I need that phone. “I won’t, Jonas.” She shook her head, keeping her gaze steady on his face.Believe me, please. “You know me. When I tell you I’ll do something, I will. Just tell me what to sayandI’ll say it. Only that. Nothing more.”
“His name is Kent.” He turned and pawed through the items left on the tray, coming up with a cheap cell phone. “He’s an asshole. He’ll try to trip you up. He always tries. Doesn’t matter how good I do, he’s always watching for me to mess up. And if I don’t mess up, he’s looking for ways to make me.”
His paranoia shook her, so different from the man she’d known.Did I really know him?“I won’t let him.” She cast around for something to reassure him with, coming up with a childish promise. “Cross my heart.”
“And hope to die?” He laughed, the sound harsh and agonizing to listen to, the hard edges scraping along every nerve in her body. “Don’t wish for things like that. You never know when it’ll happen, do you?”
The knife flashed in his hand, but she ignored it, staring at his face, holding his gaze trapped.He won’t kill me. Blood pounded in her ears, mimicking the ticking of time passing.He can’t. She prayed she was right. His own arrogance and the invention of a continued relationship between them meant she needed to be breathing for it to be true. But she knew that every moment she was captive in this room, in this house, was another opportunity for bad things to happen. “You won’t kill me, Jonas.” Connie kept her voice even, saturated with certainty.Please believe me. “I know you. When I tell him you’re doing good, it won’t even be a lie, will it? You are.”Push harder. She had to sell him on her honesty. The phone was right there, but she had to convince him to hand it over. She didn’t know what she would do, but having the phone in her hand would be another step closer to freedom. “Anyone can see you’re doing well, aren’t you? So well.”
He snorted and took another step towards the bed. “Iwas,until she told him I wasn’t following the rules.” He shoved the phone in her direction then pulled it back abruptly, leaving her reaching into the open air.No. “You were part of the rules, you know?”
“I was?” She shook her head, hand dropping to the bed.What does he mean?“Not that I’m aware of, but whatever you need, Jonas.”Keep him talking and keep him calm, she heard her father say.Always give them what they want, as long as they’ve got the upper hand.
“Yeah. You were thecourt-appointedsupervision.” He grinned suddenly, the broad spread of his mouth looking malevolent, dangerous. “I know people, and once I met you, I realized you were the answer to everything.”
“What do you mean?” She reached for the phone again,andhe dropped it into her outstretched palm. Her hands were so slippery with sweat she nearly dropped it, cradling it to her chest.Yes, she thought, followed immediately by,Now what?She couldn’t just dial the police, Jonas would never stand by and allow that. He’d already said he wouldn’t go back to jail, and if he saw her as the reason for that threat coming to roost, she didn’t know what he might do.
