Jack clung to his suitcase as though he would die without it. Which he would. The suitcase weighed a little over 100 pounds, but Jack pulled it with ease. The plan had worked perfectly. He had gotten his luggage on the plane without anybody noticing what was in it. All the way across the ocean, and the only witness to the suitcase's contents was a guard who now lay dead. By the time they had found his body, Jack was already in America.
It had been difficult to get this case to New York, but it was worth it. She had begged, and he would do anything for her. He had been careful in all his movements to protect her, to keep her from seeing things she shouldn't see, hear things she shouldn't hear. But he had to make sure she'd get there safe and sound. He loved her more than anything.
He had booked a hotel suit, so she could stay comfortably inside while he worked. And who knew, maybe he could find work for her to. He had some rope and a blindfold in one of his suitcases. And it shouldn't be hard to find some desprate or sleazy man here in America. Stupid American's. Nothing but a bunch of sleazy, lazy good for nothing slobs, he thought. But they would provide good work for her. And he wanted what was best for her. He loved her more than anything.
Jack hoped she wouldn't get restless. It would cause him a lot of problems if she were to get restless and try to go out. If someone saw her, talked to her, it would create a lot of problems for him. If he had any problems, he would have to punish her. Severly. And he didn't want to do that. He loved her more than anything.
Jack checked into the hotel and went up to his room. He carefully layed down the suitcase and said, "I hope you were comfortable on the journey. I know you were a little short on space." No response came. "Have you forgotten how to talk? All the silence must have driven you mad." Still know answer. "Answer me!" he bellowed. He didn't want to yell. He loved her more than anything.
An idea hit him, causing him to relax. I just can't hear her, or she can't hear me, he though. He carefully unzipped the suitcase saying, "I hope you were comforta-" He stopped as something rolled out of the suitcase. Weights. A little over 100 pounds in weights. He checked his bag to see if he had grabbed the right one. He had. She had escaped.
Anger welled up in Jack, his handsome face distorted by rage. He let out a roar, that, if anyone could hear it, sounded like a beast denied a meal. She was gone. She had tricked was loose, in this new country. He angrily pulled on his jacket, checking to see if the handcuffs were still in his pockets. They were. He would find her. He would find her, and bring her back. He would punish her severly first, but he would bring her back. He had to. He loved her more than anything.