I sat in the back of a car with leather seats as it hummed silently down the road. A black pillowcase was placed over my head, so I couldn't see anything. We were driving for so long, I didn't even know if it was night or day any more. The cuffs, that were still holding my hands together behind my back, were digging into my skin agonizingly, making them bleed. I could feel the trickle of the blood as it flowed down my fingers and dripped onto the seat.
I took deep labored breaths, as I thought of what was next to come; either he would take me to torture me and then eventually he would kill me, or, worse, he wouldn't kill me. I didn't want this to end up being an SVU episode.
He was going to rape me, I just knew it. The way he looked at me and talked to me, it was like he had known me my whole life, like he was in love with me my entire life. My stomach was queasy and I felt like throwing up; bile bubbled in my throat threatening to erupt.
When the car suddenly stopped, my breathing became even more labored, causing the pillowcase to puff in and out with every inhale and exhale.
"Katherine," Marty spoke softly. "We are stopped at a gas station, would you like some water?"
What the hell is wrong with this man?
"No," I croaked, showing that my mouth and throat were parched.
He sighed, but left the vehicle, shutting the door softly.
This was my chance to escape. First thing first; I had to get the pillowcase off my head so I could see. I tried rubbing my head against the head rest. No such luck. I whipped my shoulders forward and then quickly backwards, throwing back my head, hoping the momentum would make the pillowcase fly off. Light peeked through as it came up, but fell back down. I tried it again and again until the edge of the pillowcase settled on top of my head, leaving me only having to shake it off.
I laid out flat on my back across the seat, bringing my legs up above me. I rocked back and forth as I tried to swing my cuffed hands out from under me so I could get them in the front. I finally got my hands under my bottom and then under my knees. I sat up as I pulled my legs through my cuffed hands. They were covered in dried blood and stinging from the pulling and yanking.
I dived for the door, pulling on the handle so the door would open. It was locked. I fumbled for the unlock button but it wasn't doing anything. I thrust my body into the door as I pulled on the handle. Nothing. It must be child proof. I tried the other back seat door, but got the same results.
I crawled into the front seats and frantically tried those doors, but they were all locked from outside.
My breathing was frenetic as I made my way back to the back seats. I started to bash my hands on the window hoping I could break the window. When my hands started to ache on the third bash, I lay on my back and kicked at the window. I heard a crack which motivated me to kick faster and harder.
I stopped when I heard the door unlatch and open. "What the hell!" Marty yelled, red faced. If he was a cartoon, steam would have been blowing out of his ears.
I kicked him, aiming below the belt, but missing and ending up kicking him on his thin. He took a staggered step back, giving me the opportunity to squeeze between him and the door. I made a run for it towards the store of the gas station. Maybe the clerk would be able to help me. Hopefully he had a big shotgun under the counter like they do in the movies.
I was steps away from pushing the door open, but it only seemed like I was inching there in slow motion. My legs weren't moving fast enough. I probably had two seconds before he would be tackling me to the ground or grabbing me by the hair.
I was wrong, I only had one second. Arms wrapped around me, hugging me in a tight embrace. "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed in my ear. He swung me around and started to drag me back to his car.
I looked around the vacant parking lot trying to find someone, anyone, to help me. "Help!" I yelled, even though it was hopeless. No one would hear my pleas. Everything was hopeless. I was hopeless.
He shoved me back in the car and grabbed my shoulders shaking me, as if it would make me listen better. "Do you want to go in the trunk? That's exactly what I will do if you keep this shit up! Do you understand?"
I didn't respond and just looked at him.
"Do you understand?" he screamed.
"Yes," I said clenching my teeth.
He stuck his hand in this pocket of his dark blue jeans and pulled out the keys to my cuffs. He unlocked them. "Put your hands behind your back." When I didn't move, he aggressively nudged me. "Put your hands behind your back."
I did and he locked them back on my wrists even tighter this time. He slammed my door and got back in the front.
He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot in a hurry. He pulled onto Interstate 22 going west.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"We will be in Ohio in an hour," he answered honestly.
It took a second to settle in. "Ohio?" I almost shrieked.
He looked back at me for a second with his black beady eyes. "Yes. It's where my cabin is. It's where we will be living."
"I think you should bring me back to New York. You don't want to do this," I told him.
"Katherine, we are meant to be together," he objected.
"I don't know you."
"Katherine-"
"Stop calling me that!" I yelled, angered.
"That's your name, isn't it?"
"No one calls me that,"
"Your mom did."
My mouth fell open as I gasped.
"You see, I know you."
I shook my head. "No, you don't! I want to go back. I want to go back home."
His knuckles turned red and then white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Why? What was so great about your life? Your days were spent working. You had no social life, besides Lanie. You were so engulfed with your work you didn't even realize Richard was in love with you from a month after meeting you. What was so great about that? Huh?"
"Stop! Stop talking like it's in the past!"
"It will be." His knuckles loosened.
"No, it won't. You're a delusional psychopath."
"Do you want to know how I know you?" When I didn't answer he kept talking. "You arrested one of my sons several years ago."
I shook my head. "You're lying, I would have remembered."
"Matthew Bufalow murdered his mother, pure evil matricide. I hated you at first for putting him in prison like he was soulless. I wanted to kill you at first, but then I got so obsessed over you I fell in love. You reminded me so much of my wife."
I did actually remember that case; it was one of my first. A woman was slaughtered a few blocks from her house. It was gruesome and disturbing. A few days later we had enough evidence to arrest the victim's son. It looked like psychopathic ran in the family.
"You. Don't. Know. Me," I hissed with clenched teeth that ground into each other so hard they were about to shatter.
"I know that you were a huge fan of Castle before you met him. Every night before you went to bed you would read a favorite part in one of his books that you book mark, you still do."
I shook my head. "You're disgusting,"
"You'll get used to me sooner or later," he said matter-of-factly.
"I would rather die!" I spat at him.
"But I would never harm you, I love you."
I was about to object, but felt the bile flood into my mouth. I leaned over and vomited on the floor between my feet.
The car turned onto a bumpy dirt road that was surrounded by trees and wildlife. There was a thick layer of fog hanging in the air. I looked at the clock that was on the dash board to see the time. It was eight in the morning. Every part of my body ached from either sitting too long or the position I was sitting in.
"They're going to find me," I said sternly.
He looked back at me in the rear view mirror. "Who are?"
"My partners. They will find this place that you are bringing me to. They are probably on their way now." I taunted.
"Doubtful."
"You're underestimating them. They are very smart men."
"Oh, I know that. The cases you guys solve, very impressive." ," he approved. "But what I mean is that they won't find this place, because it's not under my name. It's actually not under anyone's name. Runs on a generator, you pump your own water, stuff like that. Hardly anyone knows about it."
I slumped back in my seat. "They will get here and put your ass in prison,"
"I'm doubtful of that too. I have a high distaste for prison."
I scoffed. "You think you're going to get away with this? You're a fool."
"I'm actually-" he slammed on the brakes, trying to avoid hitting the deer that stood in the middle of the road.
My body was thrust forward. I smacked into the passenger seat, smashing my head hard into it. I groaned in pain as I leaned back into my seat. Moments like this, I wished I was wearing my seat belt.
"Son of a bitch!" Marty yelled, smashing his hand into the steering wheel.
He started driving again once the deer ran off the road. I sighed and settled back in my seat. I had to keep him talking; maybe it would distract him, slow him, or something.
"Why did you have to abduct me? You couldn't have just started a conversation with me like a normal person would?" I asked.
"Hah! Like you would have gone for me," he laughed, like he thought it was funny.
He was right though, I wouldn't have given him a second thought. I shrugged. "You never know," I told him anyway.
"I was actually going to talk to you a few days ago when you were walking down the sidewalk. You were so beautiful in your tight jeans and white coat. But as I got closer I noticed it wasn't you. God, she looked exactly like you." He clenched his teeth. "I got so mad. So mad I was almost going to kill her brutally in an alley with a freshly sharpened knife that was throbbing in my pocket practically begging me to."
"You sick freak!" I yelled at him. "That's my cousin! You were going to kill her, because she looked like me? How psychotic are you?"
"I'm not psychotic!" he said defensively.
"Then let me go."
"I can't," he said, as his face changed from white to red as he got angry. "I can't!" he yelled.
This guy had to extremely bipolar. His moods were swinging like crazy, almost giving me whiplash.
He abruptly turned onto a road that branched off the road we were on. I smacked into the door from the momentum of the turn.
I gave up talking to him; I knew I wouldn't be able to negotiate anything with him.
The car finally came to a stop in front of a small log cabin. I would have thought of it as cute and cosy looking if this was under different circumstances.
Marty turned to me. "I will get you a washcloth so you can clean up the mess you made in my car, okay?"
I didn't say anything, but glared at him.
"Mmkay.." He got out of the car and limped to the cabin. I must have kicked him in the shin harder than I thought. He came back out a minute later with a small bucket with suds spilling over.
He opened the back door and set the bucket down on the floor. "Turn around,." he ordered. He unlocked my cuffs from behind my back only to lock them back up in the front.
"My wrists are killing me. Can you take them off?" I asked.
"If you hadn't run off back at the gas station I would trust you." He slid the bucket towards me, which caused the water to slosh over the edge getting my high heels drenched. "Now clean it up."
I leaned over sticking my hands in the scorching hot water. The cuts on my wrists and hands stung like crazy from the soap. I pulled out the rag and started to scrub the floor of the car between my feet.
It only took a few minutes to clean it up and, when I was done, he pulled me out of the car. I stumbled over my feet, falling to the ground on my hands and knees, as he pushed me towards the house.
He started to yell when I didn't get up after five seconds of being on the ground. "Don't be such a baby., Get up!"
I had to think of something fast. Once he got me in the cabin, the chances of me ever coming back out alive were slim. I looked down at my hands that were stinging from the fall to the ground onto the gravel driveway.
Gravel.
I balled my hands in fists with them filled with gravel. I stood to my feet in a fast, fluid motion and spun around whipping the gravel in his face directly at his eyes.
His hands went to his eyes as he screamed in pain. I round house kicked him in the stomach, which caused him to bend over. I spun around behind him and kicked him in the calf which sent him to his knees. I wrapped my arms around his neck, so the cuffs around my wrist would dig into it.
He grabbed onto my hands and thrust his right shoulder forward, causing me to fly over and onto the ground. He was on me in the next second. He wrapped his oversized hands around my neck and squeezed. I was fighting for air. I tried to pry his hands off, but he was too strong. My hands went to his face as I tried to push him away. I thrust my fingers at his dark, vacant eyes, trying everything to make him stop.
"Ah!" he screamed when his right eye started to bleed. He backed off me, letting me breathe again.
I coughed as air flooded in my lungs. After a second, I tackled him and punched him in the face with my hands balled together a few times.
"Give me the keys!" I screamed at him. "Where are they?" I felt his front pockets and pulled the hand cuff key out, along with the car keys.
I unlocked the cuffs and felt relief. I then cuffed his hands together.
"This just turned around, huh?" I asked as I got to my feet. "Get up!" He listened to me and slowly got to his feet.
"Spread your legs," I ordered. I patted him down making sure he didn't have a weapon on him that he would end up using me. "Let's go!"
I shoved him in the back of the car, only after reading him his rights. I started the car with a smile on my face, which turned into shock as a shot rang out from the house. The back window of the car shattered. I slammed the accelerator. More shots were fired and I looked back in the review mirror to see Adam firing.
The car started swerving uncontrollably towards the trees. I braced myself before the front of the car smashed into a thick tree.
A/N: Ooophta! Almost down. Just one more chapter to go.
Well, I hope you are enjoying it.
-Freaky