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Trust

Chapter 10

Vanessa awoke with a start. The very first thing she noticed was the cold, hard steel around her wrist. Looking up, she saw she was handcuffed to a bed.

"Please, God, no. Please, please, don't let it happen again," she prayed in a whisper, tears falling from her eyes.

She shifted position, trying to sit up, pushing herself up with her right hand, which had not been handcuffed. Inadvertently, she yanked on the handcuff holding her to the bed. Immediately, the floodgates opened and she was transported back three months.

"NO!" she cried out, feeling Chris Taylor tearing at her clothes once again. She threw up her right hand as if to defend herself against the assailant that now existed only in her memory. Still she could feel his hands on her, the weight of his body, his hot breath on her neck as if it were happening all over again.

"Shhh. It's okay. You're okay," she heard a soft, male voice, gentle and reassuring.

"Joe!" she exhaled with relief, opening her eyes.

Her relief was short lived as she found herself staring at the man who had held the gun to Laura Hardy's head.

"No!" she screamed again, scrambling as far away from him as the handcuff would allow. "Please, don't touch me. Please," she begged, curling up her long legs and pulling them in to her chest.

…

The young man stared at her, mesmerized by the terror in her eyes. A look he knew all too well. He could see she was literally shaking with fear and the floodgates opened for him too. Suddenly he was taken back four years to the day he arrived at his childhood home to find the door ajar…

Cautiously, he walked into the house and was struck by the silence. It was never silent in this house. There was always noise – music, shouting, laughter. But today – silence.

He stood just inside the doorway, afraid to move; afraid of what he might find. Then he heard it. Someone crying, whimpering. Softly, quietly but unrelenting. He made his way up the stairs and followed the sound down the hall to his little sister's bedroom. Entering the room he stopped and tried to hold back the nauseous feeling that threatened to overwhelm him. His twelve-year-old sister was tied to the bed - beaten, bloody and naked…

Shaking his head quickly, he wiped at his eyes and refocused his attention on Vanessa.

"I'm not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. You have my word," he told her, reassuringly.

Vanessa stared back at him in fear and total disbelief.

"I promise. You won't be hurt. You'll only be here for a day or two. Just until your fiancé gives us what we need."

"Joe…" she said quietly, finding a little comfort in just saying his name. "What do you want from him?" she asked, suddenly concerned for his safety.

"Just a file," the man smiled. Vanessa was struck by how kind and concerned he seemed just now; in dark contrast to the man who had threatened to kill Laura Hardy. "Don't worry. I'm quite sure you are much more important to him than a few pieces of paper."

Vanessa knew she was, but felt a stab of guilt at the thought of Joe compromising his integrity for her.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, his formerly cold blue eyes now radiating compassion. "Are you hungry? Or thirsty?"

Vanessa shook her head no, still unsure why he was being so nice to her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I feel kind of …sick." Whatever they had used to knock her out had left her with a slight headache and feeling queasy.

"Sorry. After effects of the chloroform. It's a necessary evil. That'll wear off soon. Let me know when it does and we'll get you something to eat." He stood up to leave.

Vanessa glanced at the handcuff and tried to hold off the awful memories hovering so close to the surface.

"Wait."

He stopped and looked at her questioningly.

"Could you take it off?" She lifted her left hand slightly.

"I wish I could. I don't think you'll give us any trouble, but we can't take that chance. I'm sorry." He spread his hands and shrugged apologetically.

"Could you use something else then?" Her voice shook and her lower lip quivered. "Rope maybe. Anything but…this."

The man's face registered his sudden understanding and then showed concern.

"Oh... He used handcuffs on you." He quickly left the room, leaving Vanessa staring after him, open-mouthed.

He returned momentarily, carrying a key and a length of rope.

"I'm so sorry," he said simply.

Reaching forward, he began tying her hand to the rail on the bed. His hand lightly brushed her arm and she flinched involuntarily. He pulled back immediately and looked into Vanessa's eyes intently. The terror reflected in her blue-grey eyes almost brought him to tears. He blinked a few times and sighed heavily.

"My little sister was raped when she was twelve. I was the one who found her," he blurted out.

Vanessa stared at him, wide-eyed, hearing the pain in his voice.

"No one is going to hurt you. No one!" he said fiercely. "They know what would happen if they even thought about it." The threat in his voice was unmistakable.

He held up the rope. "I'll try not to get too close this time."

Vanessa nodded and lifted her hand as much as the handcuff would allow. The man tied the rope around her wrist, securing her to the rail and removed the handcuff, not once making contact with her skin.

"Anything else I can do before I go?" he asked stepping back.

"What's your name?" Vanessa asked.

"Trevor."

"Thank you, Trevor."

"You're welcome, Vanessa. I'll be back in an hour or so. I'm going to need you to call your fiancé and tell him what we need."

Her eyes grew wide. "You're…you're going to let me talk to Joe?" she asked not wanting to get her hopes up.

"He'll never agree to give us the file if he doesn't get to speak to you and hear for himself that you haven't been hurt." He smiled. "And I thought you might like to hear his voice." He turned and left the room.

Vanessa stared after him, wondering about the man with such contradictory personalities. Sliding back down onto the bed, she curled up and closed her eyes.

"I need you, Joe," she whispered. "Please, hurry."