I had a day. A day before I would kidnap Melanie. Before I could give her freedom through bondage. But this would be bad for her. She wouldn't trust me anymore; just plead to me to leave her. I wouldn't hurt her-neither emotionally nor physically. I would take her to my home. My cabin in the forest. She would live there for some days, and then I would reveal Nathan's true identity in front of her. I would let her go after that. I wouldn't hold her captive after she knew the truth. I would help her to go home and tell about this to the police, while I would go off to search James Witherdale, the man who was alive, but claimed murdered.

I stared at the yellow note which had two codes. My thoughts were revolving around Melanie right now. I was concerned about her. That is when I heard someone calling me. It was a cop.

"Carlson!" He cried. I went to him. "You need to come with me to the house. Sink needs repairing," he ordered. "Turn around." He cuffed my hands tight behind my back and carried me to the house. This was the perfect chance for me to see Melanie happy, before the big day tomorrow.

Melanie wore a tank top and a pair of shorts that covered only half of her upper thigh. Clearly she might be comfortably watching TV or reading in this casual attire. I wondered when she would get to sit like this in her cosy home after today. Maybe never. Maybe after a long while. "Hey George! Thanks for coming," she greeted the cop with a bright smile. I liked seeing her so happy and content. She turned to me and smiled welcomingly. I flashed a small smile.

She turned, and we followed. She had her head tied in a bun above her head, with flicks of hair coming out of it. There was a tattoo on her neck. It was a quote of Shakespeare's- 'And though she be but little, she is fierce' changed to 'And though I be but little, I am fierce." I could now imagine myself pointing a gun on her head and she saying softly with shaking hands and legs, "And though I be but little, I am fierce." I laughed, causing heads to turn to me, but changed it into a cough immediately. George had removed my handcuffs, and I exaggerated a bit more as I put my hand to my mouth and coughed.

I stopped and I could see Melanie's concerned expression. She quickly offered me some water, which I willingly took. She cared so much-though a part of me told me that she cared this much only for me.

That she loved me.

I thanked her and examined the sink. "What did you throw through this?" I asked her. I was actually joking to the woman whom I was going to kidnap tomorrow! But my tone was very playful and I ignored the former fact. I looked at her with just a smile on my lips now, but she looked embarrassed. George watched us intently as Melanie backed a step.

She shyly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and said, "Cookies." Oh my god! Both husband and wife took jokes seriously, but the husband took them very seriously. While Melanie had taken a joke seriously, Nathan had taken a snide, terrible and very sarcastic question seriously. Nathan's life didn't depend on Melanie's serious answer, but Melanie's life did depend on Nathan's.

They were so alike but so different. Melanie loved him but he hated her. They cared a lot. But the difference was that she cared for all the innocent people, while he cared only about himself. Him, his fame, his mayor's seat, and his money. Melanie was physically beautiful and he was physically handsome too. But what made his beauty less was the lack of a kind heart. And Melanie was a goddess, a goddess from heaven. So beautiful, that people would fall in front of her. But half of her beauty was due to her kind heart.

A heart that pumped blood to her body, but also a heart that cared. Cared for…a prisoner who didn't belong. A prisoner who hadn't killed. A prisoner who wanted to see her twenty four seven. A prisoner that now longed to hear her voice, to smell her fragrance, to see her incomparable beauty, to taste her lips…A prisoner who eyed Melanie as oxygen. Without her, he couldn't live. A prisoner who eyed Melanie as half of him. Without her, he was nothing. A prisoner who wanted to tell her something…but had to wait. Who wanted to hold her tightly in his embrace, kiss her fiercely, grip her hair tight and enjoy himself while they made love. Who loved her like a mate, but wanted to protect her like he was her brother. Who wasn't imprisoned just between four walls, but in her embrace. In her heart. The heart that cared…for a prisoner. Who wanted to present her with a gift. A gift that couldn't be bought or sold. A gift that she needed, though she didn't know it. The gift, of life. The gift of freedom, from her husband. The gift of dignity and independence. The gift of happiness, joy, peace, a care free life…The gift of love.

A prisoner who was madly, unconditionally, and irrevocably in love with her now.

I was under the sink now, and these thoughts brought tears to my eyes now. I was happy that no one could see me, now that I was below a sink in an open cupboard. I was in love. And it wasn't ordinary love. It was a fugitive's love. Atleast it would be, once I was on the run. I couldn't bear the fact that I had to kidnap the woman I loved so much. Much was an understatement. Passionately was the correct word.

When I was done, I got out and saw the kitchen. Everything was kept neatly, but the fridge housed so many magnets and notes, that I thought the fridge will fall due to lack of strength to carry so many magnets. I couldn't see George anywhere, but I could hear Melanie humming to herself in the living room. It sounded like bells ringing. I peeped out of the kitchen, to see her head down as she busied herself with sketching. I went to the fridge to see all the notes. I was the sneaky Tom now, but what could I do till George came back? Walk away? Yes I could. But I wanted to spend as much time as I could in this homey house.

There were small sketches of beautiful ladies. It looked like a fashion catalogue. Some of the sketches were coloured, while some left as they were. Some were illuminated with pencil shades. Though many papers were stuck, they were all neatly stuck. Above each of them was a date, and a girl's name. Below each picture was Melanie's name, written in her elegant handwriting. She was an all-rounder. Her handwriting, singing and even drawing was…perfect. Amazing. And she was very spontaneous. All the women in the sketches were goddesses, just like my Melanie. They were heavenly and each bore a different position. When looked at in the chronological order, they looked as if they were performing a dance. Colourful and lively. Just like my Melanie.

It was strange how his Melanie had become my Melanie just in a day. Maybe it was because of his hatred for her. But a part of me knew the better of it, it was because I, Jack Carlson was passionately in love with her. But I was just sad because it was a huge crush. Not love. According to me, love was when both the mates shared the same feelings, passion and interest for the other. But here, it was just me. It pained in my chest when I thought that what was between me and Melanie, or actually what i thought the relationship was, was love. Extreme and compassionate love. But it was just a crush. And there was a huge difference between love and crush. They were like two completely different things!

Just like dialogue and monologue were completely different. All the while, Jack was thinking that he and Melanie were having a dialogue, when it was just a monologue. Or more precisely, a speech. A boring one, in which Melanie wasn't interested. Which she didn't look forward to.

Atleast, not now!

The sofa creaked as Melanie got up and headed towards the kitchen. The creaking and soft footsteps woke Jack from his daydream. He quickly went to the sink and pretended checking if the water clogged and flowed through. Melanie saw all this, and a smile of success on my face. "Thank you so much. I was an idiot to put cookies through it!" Melanie said shyly. The distance between us was a lot, and she stood there awkwardly…very awkwardly. As if she knew she shouldn't talk like this to a prisoner. As if…she was scared of me.

My doubts were confirmed when I took a step forward, and she stepped back, keeping the distance between us the same as before. "You're welcome ma'am," I said affectionately. I think she caught the love and protective feeling in my voice, and relaxed a bit. She smiled a little one, just like she had in the office yesterday, when Nathan had complimented her. But this smile still was different. A wee bit different-it had reached her eyes. I nodded and asked her where was George.

"He went off, but told me to call someone else when you were finished," she said, as she took her cell phone from a table and dialed a number. "Andrew?" she said in the phone.

Coming sis. Give me a minute.

She looked irritated. "Andrew, you kn-"

George told me to wait for your call. Actually, I was gonna come see you today in the lunch break. Haven't met my sister in what seems like ages! He sighed. His voice was so loud in the phone that Melanie had to hold it away from her ear, so I could hear everything she said. She had a brother? He seemed to be a happy-go-lucky person.

"Andrew, we met yesterday!" Melanie returned.

It is long enough. Bye. I will come in five minutes, okay?

The thought that she had to stay in her house alone with a prisoner, made her hesitant to say yes. But finally, she did.

You ain't feeling odd right?

"No. Take your time. I've baked muffins," Melanie said, as she stared at me. I could hear Andrew make an animated slurping sound on the phone. She hung up.

"You can sit here till Andrew comes. I'll finish my sketching. Excuse me," she said politely and went outside.

That is when a thought occurred in my mind. How could I abduct a woman, hold her against her will…separate her from her house forcibly and take her away, if I loved her? But I was determined to do it, not for my freedom, but for her life.

I woke up in the same cell. But today, the feeling was a bit different. In a few hours, I would be out of this hell. But, in a few hours, hell would start for Melanie. I was happy that I would be free, going home. I was sad that I was taking away Melanie's freedom. I was concerned for her too. I was worried about my temper problems-what if Melanie did something that would force me to lose my temper and hurt her? I shook that thought away. That would never happen. I was angry on Nathan for forcing me into his. But as sly as he was, he always stuck to his word. He had promised that he won't involve the police, so he wouldn't. I was sure of that.

Nathan came to my cell after about five or six hours. I stared at him. "Big day today. You're a step closer to becoming a free man," he said evilly. I was about to lose it, but controlled myself. "You remember the plan?" Nathan asked.

"Yes, of course." I still had the tape with me. And the yellow note.

"Good. I am going to handcuff you now, in case anyone sees us," he said as he opened the door to the cell and came in. "You can use these to tie Mel up," he suggested. I just nodded. As much as I wanted her to be free, I wanted her to be restrained as well. If she was restrained, she couldn't run away, making things easier for me.

Nathan walked me to the house, unbound me, and gave me the handcuffs and keys. "Go, getting out of the property safely is your work. Think about it. Maybe make her drive you out," Nathan suggested.

"Ok," I said, and started going inside, when he stopped me.

"Jack, be easy on her. Just kill her. Don't hurt her a lot. She is innocent. I don't love her, but certainly don't hate her. She has done a lot for me, and last night I really thought about it. She deserves dying quickly. Don't make her death slow and painful," Nathan requested, his voice soft now.

I was surprised. But I just nodded and went inside. The house was familiar to me, I had come here just yesterday. I went upstairs and searched a room with clothes on the bed. Luckily, it was the first one. I wore the gray t shirt and faded jeans kept for me, and tucked the gun and cash in a black jacket which I wore next. Nathan's words revolved in my head. But I ignored them, he was still the bad guy. I rushed downstairs.

I had fifteen minutes before getting this show on the road. I went to the living room, searching for accessible phones that Melanie could use when I wasn't seeing. I cut off the telephone line and tucked her pager in my jeans pocket. I found a backpack, suitable for hiking, and put a knife from the kitchen in it. I took some ropes which Nathan had kept on the dining table, and also fished for a black cloth in the washed laundry. I would use it as a blindfold for Melanie. Cutting off one of her most important senses would make it easier for me to control her. Though I hated it, I had to.

I came back to the living room. I had five more minutes. On the table, there were various photos and pages scattered. Some pages contained beautiful sketches with Melanie's name, and others contained notations- dha Ge Na ti…something that was written in English, but probably a different language. There were photos of Melanie performing a dance in a big auditorium. It wasn't ballet, it was some type of Indian classical dance. She wore an outfit which looked too heavy for her, but he looked beautiful in it. I finally turned away from the photos and concentrated on my work…

Three minutes.

Two.

One.