I own nothing to do with True Blood. I just love the show so much, and the characters. Sookie and Eric especially.
Thank you all so much for your interest in the story, it means so much to me. I know it's a little scary and disturbing! My brain is weird, sorry about that! Hoping you will enjoy this one regardless, feel free to let me know your thoughts, as I do value them!
I apologize for any written mistakes, also. :-)
Chapter Two
I worked my ass off for well over two months into getting everything ready and prepared.
I threw myself into it, the furnishing, the repairs, everything, which was a bit hard as time was limited. I spent my time going between the bar I managed, and the house. Certain things were beyond my area of expertise - repairing the dodgy plumbing, for one - and I had to call in someone I knew fairly well, Alcide, to do the job, and he did it well and had it completed within two days.
I couldn't possibly name the amount of times I went downstairs into the attic, as there were way too many times to count. I would go down there, fixing the lighting, trying to make the atmosphere as safe and less severe as possible. It was a lot of work, considering the state it had been left it; Really not comfortable or homely enough for a human to spend their time in at all, and last thing I wanted was for darling Sookie to feel trapped and in discomfort. Since money was no real concern to me, I had plenty to go around thanks to the popularity my Uncle's bar had been thrust into, I went out on a limb, and purchased furniture to make the attic more like a comfy, decorated room, rather than a storage place you set all meaningless things in you didn't care for to have in the main rooms of the house any longer. Sookie certainly deserved as much.
I would treat her as the goddess I viewed her as, rather than a person held captive in the most dire conditions.
Another thing I did, was buy pretty dresses and clothes for her, since she probably liked wearing them most, in all the times I've had the luck to see her out and about. While I gladly admit, I was no expert on women's clothes sizes and tastes, I got a female shop assistant to help me out. She said my girlfriend must be a very lucky woman if her boyfriend was willing enough to pay over a thousand in clothes for her. I felt a very humble man, even if it wasn't exactly true. She wasn't my girlfriend, no matter how hard I wished her to be, and if I had a dollar for every time I'd wished on it, I'd be the richest man in all of the state of Louisiana. I could only hope Sookie would express the exact same sentiment once the time came for her to see the extensive range of clothes I'd picked out for her.
Sometimes, late at night after I'd finished closing up the bar, I would drive back to the house in Bon Temps, go straight downstairs to the attic, and just sit there in the dark in the antique, fraying chair I'd brought for her, adding up and weighing all possible ways she could make an escape. The attic was windowless so that ruled out the possibility of her ever climbing through a window in her haste of escaping.
There were plenty of air vents an inch or so below the ceiling, securely lodged in place, so that gave her adequate breathing and air space. She would be just fine, surely. Hopefully, she would be able to cope well enough with the dramatic change of her lifestyle.
She might know a good bit about defending herself, with women these days you never know, so I took extra precautions in making certain I never left any sharp implements around while I worked on repairing the attic up. There were also a few loose floorboards that needed fixing. After about a week, I grew confident the likelihood of her ever escaping was nil to one. In other words, highly unlikely. A miraculous fluke, maybe. I had to praise myself on the lengths I had gone to, in being extra meticulous about it all.
Purchasing the house had definitely been a smart way to go. The next neighbouring house, was in a ten meter radius range, and the person living there was an elderly lady named Evelyn, which I also found out, was a little tone-deaf with age. That excluded any possibility of her overhearing anything, if Sookie did decide to make a big noise about it. The old lady could also decide to drop by unannounced from time to time, just out of curiosity, but that wouldn't be a concern. I'd learned well and truly by now, that I could easily lie through my teeth. Charming older folks also seemed to be as easy as breathing for me, as a young handsome-enough looking man.
I brought all the old furniture I had in my apartment in, and it took very nearly a good three days worth moving everything around.
I also unconnected the old telephone that was hanging in the hallway, too.
I also might have repaired the old lock on the outside the door to the attic and bolted in a new one.
Though I knew it was very unlikely she would be stepping out of the attic anytime soon, especially underneath my watch, it still eased my mind to take that extra precaution, just to be on the safe side. Call me picky, but I didn't want to risk the opportunity of her making an escape. I had to have her inside the house, inside the attic, at all times. I couldn't let her slip from my clutches so easily. I was determined to spend as much time with her, as possible. Mostly, I wanted her to get to know me, I especially wanted to get to know her, and she would probably have a bit of fight in her and wouldn't be willing to comply to being held underneath the house in the attic, at least for a week or two, until hopefully she warmed up to the idea. I could only hope she would, at this stage in time.
With everything concerning the house being prepared for her, I started rolling everything else in motion.
I was fired and ready to go. Fired and ready to get to it. I'd well and truly waited long enough, surely. Throughout the month, in the middle of repairing everything, she was like a permanent fixture in my head. The adrenaline was racing, the heart pulsing, whenever I thought about all the experiences we would be enduring together like this while I captured her, all the possibilities that would open up before my own eyes; Late nights spent talking down in the attic together, deep and meaningful conversations we would share without interruption. Hell, just even the potential of her coming to like me, was exhilarating.
There were still some things I had to be sure of, though, before the grand moment.
First, I had to figure out her daily routine and, to my luck, she still held the job she had as a younger girl at Merlotte's, waitressing.
While I wanted to fly under the radar until the absolute perfect moment, I just couldn't resist it. I just couldn't resist the opportunity to see her again. Knowing I would, being dead-sure of that, I made sure I looked good for her. I shaved, put on a clean and ironed shirt, and jeans, and made sure I wore a polished pair of shoes.
I tried to act inconspicuous -at least, as inconspicuous a guy my height at six-feet-two could be- once I found a good place to park out front and entered the bar. It was a lot smaller than mine in size, but by the look of it, it seemed it too was a busy place filled with regulars. Several men in construction clothes were seated at the bar, with jugs of beer, talking loud and boasting about their days and whatever feats they had managed to accomplish during the week. I took one of very few unoccupied booths I could find, at the back of the left side of the bar, and scanned through the menu for a good few minutes before inspecting my surroundings and the waitresses working tonight.
At first, I couldn't see her anywhere. The only one out in the bar waitressing, was a woman with fiery red-hair, and she was definitely not beloved Sookie. I wasn't happy about that, to say the least. It was increasingly hard to even attempt to act friendly to the woman. She approached my booth, gave me a hammy smile, and asked what I would like for the evening. Since I decided I would stay there until the exact moment I saw her, just to be certain she still was actually employed at the same old bar as I knew she had been in high school, I ordered a Bud Light and waited around.
As the minutes ticked on, I was growing more impatient. I couldn't spot her anywhere, not even when I stole a quick peek out back into the frying area where the short-order cook was working steadily at a few meal orders.
At roughly around seven-thirty, I almost choked on the mouthful of my beer I was sipping, when a girl slipped in through the back entrance, tying the strings of her green apron around the lower half of her back with two nimble-handed fingers. I saw that blonde hair, tied into a neat and tight bun, and I knew. I just knew, with no doubts whatsoever, that it was her.
It seemed it wasn't only me who held the belief that her smile lit up a room.
The group of construction men at the counter cheered boisterously when she crossed over the room and held their tall glasses of beer up to her, in enthusiastic greeting.
I watched her go behind the counter to grab the notepad and pen she jotted down orders in, and then as she went around the bar, doing her nightly rounds. Everything, every thought in my head, everything coherent, was magically swiped from my brain while I watched her go. She was on fire, racing around the busy place, taking orders. My stomach churned like a washing machine on high uneasily, when I noticed her getting gradually closer and closer to the booth I was seated in. When she was at the booth across from me, she leaned over the table, confidentially whispering to a pair of ladies occupying the table and- unknowingly to her, of course- she gave me an excellent view of the back of her tanned and muscular thighs in her cut-off shorts while she did so.
I was a man enamoured by the enchanting imagery it presented. It only left me boiling over in anticipation for what was to be, for what was coming very, very soon.
While I was fairly confident and fine in regards to interaction with the opposite sex, with her, it seemed hauntingly different. My mouth went completely dry, my tongue stuck to the bed of my mouth, when she finalised the two women's orders.
I realized then, I just wasn't ready yet. I felt too shy. It wasn't the right time.
With some effort, because it was a struggle to remove my eyes from her, I slide out of the booth and got to my feet. I drained the last mouthful of my beer as quickly as I possibly could, set the empty bottle down on the table, and turned to leave.
Unfortunately for me, I hadn't been quick enough.
I very nearly bumped right into her, she had come to service me at the same time I was preparing to leave, and she threw her head back and laughed, in a very giddy and apologetic way, holding her hand out to break the knock -fingers splayed- in the direction of my chest. It all did nothing for the nerves knotting my stomach, and the fact I felt so shy around her, it was ridiculous. It certainly grated down on my ego a bit.
"Whoa, sorry," she mumbled, in a distinctively chirpy way. I couldn't help but wonder if that was a feigned voice she put on for customers, or whether it was because she was happy to see a guy like me or not.
I opened my mouth to say something back to her- I didn't know what, but I hoped it was something particularly charming- and then the dry mouth was doing no wonders for me. I was officially tongue-tied, and it was pathetic.
It was too excruciating to even endure looking her straight in the eyes, so I simply stared ahead of her, which was no trouble.
"Hey, are you all right?" she whispered, sounding sincerely concerned for me, which was surprisingly touching. It only just made me feel even more embarrassed, I felt all red in the face, because I wondered, paranoid, then, what she saw on my face that seemed so worrisome to her. Did she know what I had planned for her? Does she know... anything? And then, completely out of nowhere, she laughed shyly. "Oh my," she started nervously, a giggle bubbling in her throat, "I know your face. It's kind of familiar to me. Have I seen you 'round here before because I swear I have somewhere?"
I flashed a look down at her, and then I saw it all, splitting through my vision. Me, coming up behind her without her seeing me, catching her off-guard. Her letting loose a squeak of surprise. My hand shooting out to grab her mouth to stifle her squeal of fright. Me, dragging her towards my car. Her, kicking and screaming. Me, holding her quiet. Her, going limp in my body. Afterwards, me holding her in my arms while she lay unconscious, stroking her soft, blond hair. Kissing her, hugging her, never letting her go. Loving her, cherishing her, like a darling baby rag doll. And then, I just panicked.
"Excuse me," I managed; a deep croak. "I was just leaving."
I brushed past her and then I felt her, hot on my heels, once I managed to push through the door of Merlotte's into the dark parking lot.
"Uhm, Mister," I heard her call desperately. "You... you dropped your wallet, darling!"
I stopped dead in my tracks halfway to my car, and then I knew then.
It was now or never. It had to be now. Now was right. Now was perfect. Dark. The lot was virtually empty. The perfect time to go in for the kill. Afterall, what good would there be in stalling? There was no need to. Everything was ready. I had everything prepared. I had everything.
Everything except her. And she was the main object I needed in accomplishing it once and for all. Now was a good enough time as any.
"Mister?" I heard her slow and dragged out footsteps as she stepped closer towards me in the parking lot. "Mister, your wallet? I got it right here! I'm guessing you need it, right?" Oh, the irony.
No, sweetie. It's you I need. And perhaps in time, you'll come to need me equally, too. We'll be inseparable.
I froze up, but luckily she came to me. She came, she unknowingly walked herself right into a trap. And I loved her all the more for it.
I heard the soles of her shoes scuffle up behind me. She was near. The absolute perfect moment. Now or never.
"Uhm. Mister? Your wallet?"
Something leathery was pressed into my right hand. My wallet.
She was near.
I looked around the perimeters of the parking lot quickly, assessing our surroundings. It was completely pitch-black dark, aside from the one light outside the bathed the lot into a yellow, shadowy glow. There was no one close by, no one hopping out of their cars to enter the bar she worked at after a good days work, searching for a place to unwind to for the evening.
Just me and her.
No sounds but the evening wind. Gathering myself, I turned and glanced down at her. She was alone, coming closer towards me across the pavement, there was no one behind her. Perfection.
"You sure you're all right?" At this, she reached out and gently stroked the back of my hand with two fingers. She was concerned for me, when I was about to take her. Funny, really.
Finding my voice at true last, I said, "Sorry. I thought I heard the alarm of my car going off out here. I was worried someone was attempting to steal it." It sounded ridiculous, sure, but it was the first thing that popped out of my mouth.
"Oh," she whispered, surprised. "Well, you don't need to worry. I mean, my boss has installed a security system out here. Cameras, lighting, the works." She said it like it was meant to console me in some way, only it didn't.
Let's all hope that security camera system she's speaking of won't capture this and identify just who I am, while I steal her.
"Well, that's excellent to hear," I told her, hamming it up. "My car is of extremely sentimental value to me. It's a Corvette, late 80's model. I received it as a gift back when I graduated high school." That part, was indeed true. I did receive my car as a graduation gift from my Uncle. But it held no sentimental value to me whatsoever. It was just a machine, a fast beast. Sookie Stackhouse held sentimental value. I looked back at where my car was parked, pretending to be very worried.
"Well, that I can get," she laughed. "Men and their cars. I can understand. My boyfriend, Bill, gets into a huff if I so much as slam his car door shut too loudly by accident."
I had to physically stop myself from rolling my eyes at that. What a buzz-kill. Bill, her fucking boyfriend. Would she ever come to forget about him, once I had her in my attic?
"Oh. Would you like to see my car? It's a rare edition." Clearly, she didn't know much about cars whatsoever. Or cared for them personally much, either.
Still she came forward with me, just as I'd hoped.
I pointed it out to her, trying to sound deeply interested in the mechanics of my car while I explained it to her. I said some shit about the engine, and how fast it ran, and the dear darling Sookie had the heart to act impressed. She came around near the back doors of the car, just where I wanted and needed her most. She bent down towards the tinted window, looking in.
I took advantage of the moment to slip my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans. I had to use both hands for the job, after all.
"Can't say I know too much about cars, really," she said, distractedly. She darted me a gap-toothed smile, the one I couldn't ever seem to get enough of back in high school, even if it wasn't due to anything I was saying or doing to her. "But, you know. This is pretty impressive. My boyfriend's a real car fanatic." For some reason, she assumed I cared about the interests of her shitty boyfriend. Honestly, I didn't. I couldn't give two shits. Only her, I cared about. It was always her. "Hey, maybe if you stick 'round long enough, Bill would be real interested in seeing-"
And then I was starting to get seriously aggravated with her talking about this Bill. So, I lunged in, and I got her. I finally got her. She seemed surprised at first, and she giggled nervously when I slapped a hand over her mouth. Obviously, she didn't know what I was doing, or what to even think about it. She was clearly not taking it seriously, one bit. And then, as the shock gradually shifted, and the weight of it all finally sank in, she realized. Oh, she realized, all right. This was no game. This was no joke. Her stirrings of self-preservation settled in next, and she whimpered into my palm.
The struggle began.
She put up a pretty admirable fight, in using her feet to kick at my shins. She used her fingernails to latch on, scratching every part of me she could find. My face, my cheeks. My neck. My hand. Naturally, being the build I was, I was far more stronger. And every second she fought, it only thrilled me and made me want her more intensely.
This is it, I thought as I managed to jerk open the back door to my Corvette. Finally, it's arrived.
"We're going to have such a cracking, good old-time together, Sookie," I grunted out, when she gave me one last good stomp on the back of my ankle. She was beginning to tire from the fight. Good for her. I pushed my nose into the back of her bun, held her real tight, breathed her all in. Home, everything about her felt like home to me. Everything felt good, and real. "I love you more than you can comprehend and, hopefully, in due time, you'll come to fully appreciate that."
I got her half into the backseat of my car, was a bit hard, because she started fighting again.
She made good use of her hands, which were flailing all around me, slapping me and hitting me all over. Though I was physically stronger, she landed a few good enough hits, I was positive I was going to bruise over it. Oh, well. I'll take it.
"Sookie, sweetie," I tried desperately, when she kept it up relentlessly. "I'm not going to harm you, I swear it."
I had to climb into the backseat of my car along with her, pulling her in, and I think she wrongly assumed I was about to rape her. But it was the only way I had to get her in, I had no other choice. She screamed into my hand, effectively making me feel pity for her and the situation I'd deliberately placed her in. Her dark eyes were wide and fretful, and tears were rolling down her cheeks.
"I said, I'm not going to hurt you," I tried again, attempting to hush her. "Trust in me when I say that."
She went to squeal again, I had to tighten my hand over her mouth. Then, I searched around with my unused hand around the flooring of my car. I had to find something to gag her with, since I was doing no good in effectively placating her and keeping her quiet myself. I really didn't want to do it, but my hand was forced into doing so. I found an old piece of rag, but then when I sniffed it, it smelt too much of gas. Not good.
"Sookie," I panted down at her, putting on a threatening voice. She stilled from her wriggling in fear, and it made me loathe myself one-hundred and ten percent. She was afraid of me, it broke my heart. It was hardly necessary, when I had no spiteful intentions of hurting her ever. "Please, I don't want to have to gag you, all right? But if you insist on fighting me, I'll have to do so in order to quieten you! I don't want to, all right? So, please, just relax and take it easy." I looked her face over carefully. "Will you do as I say so? Do you swear to me that you will?"
Her eyes widened, and she still looked upsettingly unsure. But then, she managed with a small jerk of her head.
"Thank you," I breathed helplessly. "Remember, you swore to, and I swear I have no intentions of hurting you. So, please. Keep quiet."
She managed a nod against my hand again. That was all the confirmation I needed, and she sure made good promise of her agreement. I let my hand slide away from her mouth. She breathed raggedly for a very long moment, struggling to calm herself. And then, she broke down sobbing hysterically, and I felt then well and truly like a guilty, cruel ass. I had to stop myself from holding her. Besides, it would have only made it worse.
So, sucking it all up, I pulled myself out of the car, careful not to make too quick a movement with it to startle her, and closed the back door gently shut.
Then I scrambled into the driver's seat, and started my car. I drove out of the lot, not too slow, but not too fast as to garner anyone's suspicions. Keeping true to her word, and in a way that humbled me and moved me deeply, she kept completely quiet, aside from her tiny animal wails in the backseat of my car. She made no move to escape. Clearly, she thought I was a raving madman. She met my gaze through the mirror, and held it. Her face was white, in shock, and her eyes were still afraid.
"Like I said, Sookie," I whispered gently back at her, "I have no real intentions of harming you. I just want to... get to know you."
She interpreted that wrong, and I could tell so. And she made that very clear.
"Get to know me?" she repeated, half of an outraged shriek. "What?"
I tongued around my teeth and tightened my clasp on the steering wheel. I didn't even know how I was possibly meant to explain that, but I knew I ultimately had to, so that she wouldn't come to a wrong conclusion.
"Ever since high school, Sookie."
"What? Ever since high school? What do you mean, or are you just sayin' a load of crock to scare me even more, you psycho?" She said it more coldly, than angrily.
I couldn't help it, I had to laugh. She was so amazing.
"Let me just wait until we reach the house," I explained, as evenly as possible. "Then I'll clarify everything you need to know."
"Tell me now, otherwise I demand to be released. What the hell do you want from me?"
"Whoa, now. You're hardly in a position to bargain with me, darling."
"Don't call me darlin'," she huffed out. "I ain't your darling. You need help!"
We stared at each other through the mirror, my looking more fond than hers, which was just furious and frightened, all at once. I just couldn't believe it, I was so excited to finally have the chance to be near her, and the prospect of spending time together, and getting to know her. I wanted to know everything about her. Her likes, her dislikes. What she liked to do when she didn't spend her time waitressing at Merlotte's. Most of all, whether she would grow to become interested in a man like me, or not.
"You know what, stop the car this instance. I'm getting out, Mister!" And then she slid towards the door handle, but she didn't open it. Still, I didn't budge. I was presuming she was the intelligent type of girl who wouldn't throw herself out of a moving car, and I trusted in that. "Mister, stop the car now!" In a way that both surprised me and made me feel deliriously amused, she pushed her way through the front seats to give me a fierce look. "Stop the car!"
"No, can do," I told her. "This car isn't stopping until we reach home."
"Home? Look, I don't know what's wrong with you. Maybe you're sick in the head or something, but home? Really? If you think where ever you're takin' me will be like home to me, then you've got another thing coming." She just wouldn't stop talking but, oddly enough, I didn't mind that one bit. Her voice was too lovely for her not to use it. "Oh my Lord. You holding me for ransom or something? How much are you asking for here?"
"It's not about money," I said, trying to hide a smile. "In fact, it's not about that at all. Like I said before, I simply want to know you. I want to know... everything. I want to know who you are."
There was a funny pause, and then she gave out a peculiar laugh.
"Then you have a shitty way of going about it. Haven't you heard of coffee?"
"Oh." I was flattered. "You would agree to go out for a coffee with me?"
"Well, I don't know. Maybe. I mean, that's like what normal people do, when they wanna get to know somebody. Not... give them a big fright and shove them into a car!" And then, she gasped loudly. "I finally see it now! I saw you that night, you own that bar, right?"
I felt myself starting to go red. I never knew that she would remember me, I never knew she would even give me the time of day, or that I was something worthy in her head to be remembered.
"And at high school," she said very slowly, stunned.
"I don't know what you're talking about, darling." And besides, now wasn't the time to get into all of that.
"I told you not to call me that. And I remember you," she said, convinced on that. "In fact, I remember in high school you were sending me all these intense looks!"
Was I really that obvious back then? Well, great. It somehow never registered in my mind at all that she'd miraculously taken notice of me in high school. My head whirled, and I couldn't get past that.
"In fact, Bill told me you had the hots for me once, I'm pretty sure," she went on casually, like the thing was such a big revelation. "I didn't believe him, though. I thought he was just being paranoid and now, here we are!"
I was aiming for being silent until we got home. But I slipped up. "And why wouldn't you believe him?"
"I don't know." I could feel her staring at me intently, and it made me feel incredibly hot and bothered. I wished she would stare at something else. "I guess, I just... I didn't much seem like your type."
"Well, you've been my type for the last six or so years."
"Well, you ain't my type," she said, all coldly.
"You might be surprised. I may grow on you. They say that if you spend enough time with someone, it's inevitable, and we'll be spending a lot of time together, sweetie," I said, feeling clever.
"Oh, darling. I think you're growing on me already. Ain't you such a man a girl could love, when you kidnap her and force her into your car?" She was being sarcastic. Still, it warmed me. She met my eyes through the mirror again and, oddly enough, she almost smiled. "When my Bill finds out about this, you're gonna wish you never did this!" She was being bitter now. She spoke through gritted teeth.
"By the time this is all over, you won't know any Bill's."
"Please, I just want you to stop the car," she whispered defeatedly, and then she started crying again.
I forced myself not to look at her any longer, and focused ahead on driving instead. It helped with not feeling sympathetic towards her and like I wanted to cave in and release her anyhow.
This was not one bird that was going to be released easily. Not until she knew how much so that I loved her.
All in all, a good days work, if I do say so myself.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter? What do you think of Eric? Is he insane? Poor guy, he's just desperate for Sookie to love him, even if he is going a bit overboard. Please let me know your thoughts, I love knowing them :-) Thank you! x
