Page 24 of His Captive

“Buddy, please. Please don’t leave me.”

Buddy slams his hands over his ears as if my pleas screech like a distorted microphone, his eyes shutting tight to block me out completely.

“Stop. Stop. Just stop. Please don’t,” he shouts over me.

He’s visibly distressed, and although he’s playing a huge part in keeping me captive, I take no pleasure in watching him freak out.

Something seems to have triggered him, and the instinct to comfort him from it overrides my own panic, causing me to stop.

“It’s okay Buddy.” My tone softens.

“Listen. I’ve stopped. It’s okay,” I try assuring him, and if I wasn’t chained to the damn wall I’d reach out and touch him.

“I saved her.” He speaks in a weak whisper, his usually bright face shadowed with pain. “I saved her.”

“Saved who?” I ask, desperate to know more. To know everything.

Why Ethan hates it down here?

Why Buddy is freaking out?

And who the hell she is?

“No one.” Buddy shakes his head. “I’ve said too much,” he tells me still shaking his head as he backs out of the room, closes the door, and leaves me.

I lay back on to the mattress. The sheets beneath me spotlessly clean, and the pillows smelling like lavender when I rest my heavy head against them. With cuffed hands I just manage to snuggle into a ball and pull the soft cashmere blanket over my body, though it brings me little comfort.

Closing my eyes, I attempt to blank out everything that’s happening, to forget that there is nobody outside these walls who care enough to miss me.

I think back to the things Ethan had me do before he fed me.

How I’d been desperate enough to do it for him. Is it even possible to crave a monster?

I wonder what could possibly have happened to a man like Ethan, to make him so heartless.

My head hurts thinking about what might happen next, and I don’t let myself consider what might become of me when Ethan is done playing with me. Or, who might have been chained to this very spot before me.

Buddy had saved someone, which has to mean there is hope of him saving me too. Right?

He doesn’t seem afraid of Ethan, yet it’s obvious Ethan has him under his control. Just like he has me.

Maybe, I can try to escape the next time I’m allowed upstairs, chance that maybe the front door will be left unlocked. Though, Ethan doesn’t seem the kind of man who leaves anything to chance.

I have a terrible night, the mattress is comfortable, and the blanket supplies me with just enough warmth to stop me from shivering. But, the collar around my neck aches and keeps me awake. My imagination works in overdrive, envisioning the horrors of what could have happened in this room, and what likely will happen to me.

I have no doubt that these walls enclosing me have already witnessed death, and fear that quite possibly they will again, very soon.

I’m not sure if it’s the daylight breaking through the window bars, or Buddy whistling an upbeat tune as he makes his way down the stairs that wakes me. But I’m relieved when he steps inside, especially when I see that all the sadness he’d left with yesterday has vanished. Replaced now with a smile that lights up his whole face.

“You want some breakfast?” he asks, pulling the key to my collar out of his pocket.

“Depends what your friend will have me do to earn it,” I respond bitterly. Buddy pulls a face that suggests he has no idea what I’m talking about, followed by a shrug of his shoulders.

“Come on. Mrs. P has done three types of egg,”

I rub my lips together, the prospect of breakfast, almost too tempting to refuse, and the thought of Ethan being there worryingly makes me even more inclined to accept the invitation.

I make a mental note to get to a decent shrink as soon as I get myself out of this.

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