'You really had no idea this was going on?'
Liam raised an eyebrow at Diana's father, whom looked over some photographs of her. His wife beside him, had a worried look on her face.
'She never called me, to let me know how she was doing', the man spoke.
'It's not your fault, Gabriel', his wife soothed him.
Liam sighed.
'With all due respect sir, but communication works both ways', he spoke carefully.
Gabriel chuckled.
'You must think of me as a horrible father. I was supposed to be there for her, protect her, raise her and all I did was walk away from her', he spoke.
'That's the downside of divorces, I guess. But you can rest assured, our team is positive she's still alive', Liam smiled.
'Thank goodness. The poor thing must feel so alone, and scared', Gabriel's wife sighed.
Liam swallowed.
'If you'd like…I think I could arrange an appointment with her former psychology teacher/psychiatrist, Dr. Crane. She had developed a pretty close relationship with him before she went missing', he offered.
'Dr. Crane, huh?' he asked.
'Yes. Perhaps he can give you some answers', Liam hesitantly said.
'I would like that, officer', he replied.
Liam looked at his watch.
'I should go. I'll try and arrange a meeting for you as soon as possible', he promised.
'Thank you, officer', the man thanked him, before he walked him to the door, and bid him a good day.
Liam felt conflicted. Would Diana even want to see her father, after three years of not ever hearing from him? He guessed not.
Still, he hoped that with such a sweet woman for a stepmother, she'd feel more at home than she had at her mother's place.
…
Crane wasn't surprised to have a call from the police department. A young police officer had told him Diana's father wished to see him.
Just the thought had him angry. This man…had left his defenseless daughter to be exposed to so much torture and abuse.
He was certain of one thing; he would never give her up, not for her father, not for anyone. She was his. Her father didn't deserve to see after abandoning her.
He clenched his teeth. No one deserved to see her, no one but him. She was his and his alone. Her beauty was only his eyes to see. He couldn't allow her back to go back out there and be exposed to other men.
He calmed himself down, knowing she would never leave. She would remain here, away from the cruel world, and its wandering eyes.
He went downstairs, and opened the door. He found her asleep on the bed, lying on her back, but with her head slightly turned to the side. Her right hand rested in the pillows next to her head, while her other hand rested on the sheets, just below her breasts.
He had given her a thin, light pink nightgown to sleep in. He thought she would feel a bit more comfortable in clothes that didn't expose her.
His eyes went briefly to her lips; peachy-pink, pouty, and inviting. How badly he wanted to kiss her, to taste her luscious lips.
'She's asleep; just do it!'
'No. If she wakes up, and realizes what I did…she'll never sleep again.'
She moaned softly in her sleep. Her expression changed to one of fear.
'N-no…please…' she begged softly.
His heart broke. He took her hand in his and kissed it tenderly.
'It's alright; no one will hurt you, not while I'm here to protect you', he whispered.
Her eyelids twitched and she soon woke up. Her terrified gaze met his calm blue eyes. She pulled her hand from his grasp and scrambled back up against the back wall.
Diana stared at him, fearfully. How could he expect her to trust him if he kept invading her personal space like this?!
'D-don't touch me', she gasped.
'Diana…' he sighed.
She shook her head. She couldn't adjust to this. She didn't want him to be in full control. She didn't want to turn back into that quiet, obedient little girl she used to be. But if she kept going against him…he'd punish her…she was trapped in a game to which only he knew the rules of…
'I know you're scared, but I'm not going to hurt you', he tried to shush her.
'How am I supposed to believe that?' tears sprung in her eyes; 'after what you did to Adam and his family…' her bottom lip trembled.
'I never intended to kill them -'
'You just left them to die. That's the same thing', she mumbled with teary eyes.
'They didn't understand you, they never did', he paused to crawl closer, 'but I do. I understand your fear, your loneliness', he went on.
She stared at him warily. How could he possibly understand how she felt? He was perfect. He was a brilliant professor, had a successful job. How would he know how she felt?
'You don't see it, but we're alike in more ways than you know', he told her.
She frowned at him. What was he talking about?
'I myself am a victim of parental abuse. I know the fear, of being called out, only to receive punishment for existing', he explained.
She pulled her knees to her chest. She wasn't so sure he was telling the truth. He could be putting up more false stories and lies to gain her trust, so he could have his way with her.
A chill of disgust ran down her spine. She would never let him. She had lost any and all interest in anything that was even remotely connected to sexual intercourse. Her stepfather was to blame for that, partly. But part of her had always known that she held no interest in sex. That's why; when Michael kept assaulting her…it only left her more terrified.
She gazed at him, as he undressed, leaving himself in his underwear. She could see his arousal clearly, and it left her disgusted. Why hadn't she seen that he was such a pervert?
He crawled into bed, and took hold of her arms to pull her to him. She tried to fight him, but he was too strong for her.
She ended up on her side, him behind her, as he spooned her into his grasp. His breathing was hot in her neck, as was his near nude form pressed against her.
'You had a nightmare', he stated quietly.
She swallowed her fear. Tears sprung in her eyes. She had a nightmare about him. About him hurting her, like her stepfather had done-
Her eyes widened, as his hand on her waist, moved higher.
'You have such an exquisite body…' he murmured.
Fear immediately filled her; that caused her to remain completely still in his arms. She wanted to fight him, to dig her nails into his arms to fight him off…but what would the consequences be if she did?
'Please don't…'
She reverted back to pleading, and begging for him to stop. It was the only thing she could do. She was at his mercy, just like she had been at Michael's mercy.
'Hush now…' he rubbed her hip slowly, 'I would only touch you, if you asked me', he murmured.
She continued to shake her head.
'I don't want that…'
'Shh…you're scared, I will wait until you're ready', he murmured.
She didn't answer. Why was he so sure of the fact she would trust him? She couldn't! Not after all he had done to her! She felt hurt, betrayed and violated.
'I'll never ask for you to touch me like that', she mumbled.
With a slight sigh, he nuzzled her neck. She responded by elbowing him hard in the ribs. He hissed lowly.
Crane rubbed his sore ribs, gritting his teeth.
'So much spunk all of a sudden, it's kind of ironic, don't you agree, Johnny?'
'Ohh shut up.'
Scarecrow cackled inside his head.
'Perhaps you should punish her. It's obvious she doesn't get who's in charge.'
'I've done enough to earn her distrust towards me. I should give her a break. She'll warm up to me eventually.'
'Too bad. I would've loved to see her in that pink lingerie set you bought her. I think she has a perfect ass for a thong.'
Crane's cheeks flared for a moment. He hadn't given it much thought, but he too, had to adjust to this female presence in his life. He had little experience with women, except for an occasional one night stand when he was younger, but these deep feelings…he had never felt them before; especially not for a nineteen-year old girl and one of his students no less.
But that didn't matter. She was his woman, his to mold into what he wanted her to be; an obedient housewife. He had always thought that women had to be dependent on men. If they weren't, they'd become too opinionated and bad mannered sluts.
He wanted Diana to be his obedient little servant. He would be very clear that he was in complete control of her. In return, he would give her love, and attention, and help her become stronger. But not strong enough to defy him, no…he refused to let that happen.
He looked down on her. She was exhausted from fighting him, he could clearly see that. Dark circles were starting to form under her eyes and her hair was notably greasier. She was too terrified to take care of herself.
'Sleep, my dear', he whispered.
She flinched. He pushed her hair behind her ear, carefully.
Tomorrow was a Saturday, he thought. He would use that time, to bond with her. He just hoped she'd be good then. He didn't want her to disobey him.
…
That following morning, Diana opened her eyes slowly and rubbed her tired eyelids. She felt so exhausted. Being so scared took a toll on her.
She rolled over, stretching her aching limbs. Her gaze flickered to Jonathan beside her, whom was still deeply asleep.
At that moment, she wished for all this to be a dream; him killing Adam and kidnapping her. But it was all real. And she hated the part of her that still found him attractive.
She studied him, noticing the freckles on his shoulders. He was pretty lean, and muscled, she noticed. He wasn't at all bulky, but had this hidden strength about him, that made her nervous. Still, the way he slept, made him seem so innocent, which he wasn't, she reminded herself.
Her eyes moved to his face; his full lips, and high cheekbones, covered in light freckles. He was stunning, she would admit that. And it was a pure shame that he had such a psychotic mind. Perhaps if he hadn't manipulated her and Adam's parents…maybe then…they could've been together-
Nerves crept up in her stomach, as he started to stir. He opened his eyes and for a moment, she was completely lost in his cerulean stare.
Flushing visibly, she averted her eyes, earning a chuckle from him.
'Good morning', he greeted her.
'Morning', she mumbled.
She rubbed her eyes. She felt filthy. She had been too busy trying to defend herself against him, to think about taking care of herself. She really wanted to take a shower, but felt worried he would tell her he was going to join her. She didn't want that.
'Can I take a shower?' she asked quietly.
'Of course you can. I'll be upstairs to prepare you some breakfast', he answered.
She sat up.
'C-can I have some different clothes?' she dared to ask.
He got up, and took out his key from his pants lying on the ground. She watched silently, as he went into the closet, and picked out some clothes for her. He laid out a pair of underwear, a pair of deep pink shorts, with ruffled edges and a white t-shirt with a V-neck.
She swallowed thickly. Was that all she was getting?
Embarrassed, she lowered her head. She guessed she had to be grateful. He was the one in control now; she couldn't go up against him, she knew that. And if she was being brutally honest, she didn't want to.
'Thank you', she mumbled.
He nodded in approval.
'I'll be upstairs', he spoke.
With that, he left. She carefully picked up the clothes and went to the bathroom. Dropping the clothes into the sink, she looked into the mirror. What had she gotten herself into?
…
The clothes made her very self-aware of her body. The shirt was tight around her breasts, and the V-neck left her with a bit of cleavage, but luckily, it wasn't completely see-through.
The shorts were a little bit better; they fit her really well and felt like a pair of sleeping shorts.
After her shower, she had found some elastic bands in the bathroom, and had used them to braid her hair into one braid. A few loose strands framed her face.
Sighing, she went up the stairs and entered the kitchen. Crane looked at her almost immediately and she watched his mouth drop.
'You look…beautiful', he breathed out.
She bit her bottom lip nervously then took a seat at the breakfast table. She reached for the cereal and filled the bowl in front of her.
She crossed her legs, swinging her feet slightly on the ground. She slowly poured some milk onto her cereal and began to eat.
'I'm free today.'
She nearly choked on her food, at his voice. Coughing, she looked up to his blue eyes.
'What?' she coughed.
'It's Saturday. The university is closed on the weekends', he told her.
She tightened her grip on her spoon. That meant she was going to be alone with him for the entire day…
'Perhaps I should give you some time to yourself. I can imagine you want to grieve over your friend, and his parents', he spoke.
She frowned at him. Was he serious? He was going to give her time to herself?
He stood up and left. He came back moments later, only to hand her a flat, square package.
Her frown only deepened.
'What is this-?'
'Open it', he smiled at her.
She slowly removed the wrapping paper to reveal a hard-cover notebook. It had a light pink color, with a lace pattern running over the middle of it. It came with a matching pen.
Her eyes widened.
'I got you a journal, since your old one probably got lost in the fire', he said.
She ran her fingers across the cover. She looked up to him.
'Thank you', she thanked him quietly.
'No need to thank me, Diana', he kneeled down in front of her; 'I'll try to go a little easier on you, okay?' he asked.
She gave a faint nod.
'In the mean time…I want you to try and settle in. I know it's not easy but I know you can do it', he went on.
She gave another obedient nod.
'Yes sir', she mumbled.
He laid a hand to the top of her head and kissed her forehead.
'Good girl', he murmured.
As he left, she opened the journal. She began to write, feeling her thoughts go down as she got it onto paper. Writing simply helped her so much.
…
Another new chapter, I intend for this to be a slow burner, because I like teasing my readers, he he,
Lots of love,
~TheOneWithTooManyInterests