My stress level was dangerously high for a while and my professors thought it would be nice to make everything worth over 100 points due on the same day. That is my excuse for not updating. Also, I'm currently working on some other updates, so be on the look out for those if you read any of my other stories.
I own nothing but the plot line and a few OCs. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.
Collins had only met Anna Gibson once during Connor's years at NYU, but he remembered her very well. She was much nicer then, or at least that's how she portrayed herself. Connor watched helplessly as his aunt tied his professor's hands together. She had come like a thief in the night while the two of them were visiting Carrie. Connor was reading a book on psychology when she entered the living room and told him to keep quiet. He couldn't have screamed even if he had tried. His vocal cords seemed to be paralyzed.
"I knew you would take him somewhere so you could be alone with him," Anna said to Connor in disgust. She finished binding Collins' hands and looked at the boy. Connor looked down at the carpet to avoid Anna's scowl.
"I only brought him here because you were going to kill him," he replied. He spoke in the softest voice Collins had ever heard. The professor barely heard what he said.
"It's what has to be done. It's what God wants."
"How the hell do you know what God wants?" Collins asked. Anna's attention snapped from Connor to him. He matched her scowl, aiming to show her that he wasn't threatened by her in any way.
"You do not speak unless you're spoken to. Do I make myself clear?"
"There are only two women in my life that I take any type of order from. Those women are my baby girl, Angel, and my mamma. You, Mrs. Gibson, are neither Angel or my mamma. Therefore, you just wasted air by telling me that."
"Is that so?" Anna's scowl grew fiercer. She picked her gun up off of the coffee table and aimed it at Collins.
"You may be a psychotic, sociopathic, homophobic bitch, but you don't scare or intimidate me." Connor looked up at Collins in shock. He had never heard anyone talk to his aunt so fearlessly. Anna's eyes widened and she slowly lowered her gun. Collins started to say something else when the back of Anna's hand made contact with his face.
"Don't hurt him, Aunt Anna!" Connor shouted. Anna turned to him.
"Shut it!" she demanded. She then turned back to Collins without waiting for a response. "Don't you dare talk to me that way! I am not psychotic or sociopathic!"
"In what universe is abusing a child who you're supposed to love by constantly beating him, putting him down, and allowing a registered sex offender to molest him not psychotic and sociopathic?"
"Any and every thing that has happened to Connor in his life was God's will."
"Bull. Shit."
"If it wasn't His will, it wouldn't have happened. You, Mr. Collins, are obviously . . ." Anna trailed off and turned to face Connor. The boy stared up at her from his position on the floor in fear. "Did you call me . . . 'Aunt Anna?'" Connor gasped softly and his heartbeat quickened.
"N-No," he lied. Anna placed her gun on the television stand and stepped toward Connor.
"Who told you about her?" Connor remained silent and was struck across the face. "Tell me!"
"Nobody . . ." The boy was struck again. Tears formed in his eyes.
"Tell me the truth!" Anna grabbed hold of the back of Connor's neck as the tears in his eyes spilled over. "Was it that weakling husband of mine? Did he tell you about her?"
"No! Nobody told me anything! I figured it out on my own!"
"I don't believe you!" Anna slammed Connor's head against the coffee table, causing the boy's mouth to bleed. His tears fell faster as his head was slammed against the table twice more before Anna pushed him onto his side. He lied there, looking up at Collins, who was trying his best to get up from the couch.
"Professor . . . help me . . ." Connor sobbed. Blood was dripping from his mouth onto the carpet. Anna then kicked the boy in the stomach.
"Leave him alone!" Collins demanded.
"Tell the truth, Connor!" Anna shouted, ignoring Collins. Connor slowly sat upright and briefly made eye contact with his aunt, trying to stop himself from crying.
"Let Professor Collins go and I'll tell you," he said. Anna glanced at Collins before picking her gun up. She aimed it at the professor.
"Tell me or he will have to die without being saved."
"Don't kill him!" Anna cocked the gun and brought her finger to the trigger, keeping her attention on Connor. "Okay! Uncle Arthur told me her name and I looked her up! That's the truth! I swear!"
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Anna lowered the gun. "Now, on your knees." Connor slowly pushed himself onto his knees. "Bow your head and pray for forgiveness."
"Forgiveness for what?"
"Psalms 34:13." Connor looked down at the carpet. "Say it."
"'Keep your tongue from evil . . . and your lips from speaking lies.'"
"Don't ever lie, Connor. Especially to your mother."
"But . . . you're not-"
"I raised you!" Anna interrupted. "I am your mother! Pray for forgiveness!" Connor held back a sob, bowed his head, and closed his eyes. "Out loud, Connor."
"Heavenly Father . . . I have sinned. I haven't honored my . . . my mother the way she should be honored. I come to you now . . . asking for your forgiveness . . . with a promise that I will forever obey and do right by her." Connor opened his eyes and slowly looked up. Anna was smirking at him.
"Amen," she said. Connor dropped his attention to the carpet. "I'll be right back. Don't move."
Collins watched Anna leave the room as Connor used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the blood from his mouth. He looked at the blood on his sleeve and began sobbing. Collins stared at the boy, a sympathetic look in his eyes. If standing up without his crutches didn't cause him so much pain, he would have hit a woman for the first time in his life. He couldn't understand how Anna could believe that she wasn't doing and hadn't done anything wrong.
"Professor . . . since we probably won't make it out of here alive-"
"Don't say that," Collins interrupted.
"I know what she's capable of," Connor reminded his professor. The boy looked up at him. "She's not going to let us go and before we die, I have to tell you something."
"What is it?"
"I . . . was planning to have something bad happen to you."
"Why?"
"So I could save your life and . . . you'd fall in love with me." Collins sighed heavily. "I know you said all I'll ever be is your student, but I thought I could change your mind if I saved you. I need your love, Professor."
"No, you don't. You just think you do." Connor looked back down at the carpet. "One day, you're going to meet someone who will love and cherish you, but that someone will not be me. I have a great deal of love for you, Connor, but I'm not in love with you, okay? Someone will come along though."
"I wish that was true."
"It is true."
"She's going to kill us. I can't meet anyone if I'm dead." Connor looked up at Collins as he began trying to untie the rope around his wrists with his teeth. "That won't work, Professor. Believe me, I've tried it before." Collins' eyes widened and he stopped biting at the knot in the rope that bound his hands together.
"She's tied you up before?" he asked. Connor nodded sadly. "Well . . . what would Albert do in this situation?"
"Albert isn't real. He was a figment of my childish imagination."
"Did you ever think he could be more than that?"
"No. He was my imaginary friend. That's all."
"Maybe he was what you wanted to be."
"I don't understand what you mean."
"Maybe you created Albert because you wished his personality was your personality. You wanted to be brave and confident, so you created an imaginary friend who had those characteristics. In a way, Albert is you. A part of you, at least."
"Okay, let's say Albert is a part of me. What does that have to do with anything?"
"You could search inside yourself, find that confidence, and stand up to your aunt."
"Even if I could do that, it wouldn't be very affective."
"Why not?"
"Because . . . Albert was afraid of her, too." Collins frowned. "I'm sorry, Professor. There's nothing I want to do more than to get you to safety, but . . . I just can't. I'm sorry."
"Wait . . . the phone in the guest room."
"What about it?"
"We can use it to call for help."
"You said the line was cut."
"I can rewire it."
"You . . . you can?"
"Yes. I mean, if I can rewire an ATM, a phone shouldn't be that hard."
"Why did you rewire an ATM?" Collins froze and stared at his student.
"No reason that's important. What's important is I can fix the phone, call my friends, and they'll come save us."
"Aunt Anna won't let you out of her sight for very long."
"That's where you come in."
"Me?"
"I need you to distract her." Connor's eyes widened. "Just for a little while. I need time to fix the phone and make the call."
"I can't do that, Professor."
"Yes, you can."
"She'll be suspicious."
"Only if you act suspicious." Connor shook his head. "Listen to me, I know you're afraid. I know that, but you have to try. I promise I won't be that long. Once I've called for help, I'll be right back here and I will protect you. I won't let her hurt you anymore, okay?" Collins waited for the boy to respond.
"What should I do?" he asked.
"Anything you can think of. Say some scriptures or something."
"After I came out, she locked me in my room and wouldn't let me out until I read the bible from cover to cover. I can recite it."
"The entire bible?" Connor nodded. "Good. Do that."
There were a few seconds of silence before Anna returned carrying a small, black bag. She placed it on the table and put her gun next to it. Collins and Connor watched as she went through the bag, humming the melody of a hymn as she did.
"Could you untie me for a moment?" Collins asked. Anna looked at him and her eyes narrowed.
"No," she replied.
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"Fine." Anna walked toward Collins. "I will take you to the bathroom, but I'm not untying you."
"Then you're going to have to come in with me."
"I will do no such thing."
"I don't know if you've noticed, but men use the bathroom differently than women. We have to aim. And since you're not going to untie me, you're going to have to aim for me." Anna sighed and untied Collins' hands before giving him his crutches. "Thank you."
"Let's go." As he and Anna started to leave the room, Collins gave Connor a look, to which the boy nodded.
"'In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth,'" he recited. Anna stopped walking and turned to face him. "'Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.'" Noticing that Anna was staring at him, Connor looked down at his hands.
"Keep going," Anna told him. The boy looked up as his aunt walked over to him.
"'And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light,'" he continued. "'God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness.'"
Collins slipped from the room as smoothly as he could on crutches while Anna was paying attention to Connor. Once he was inside the guest room, he gently closed the door behind him. He then made his way to the bed, sat down, and opened the drawer of the bedside table in search of something he could use as a makeshift tool. The first thing he saw was the medical bag. After looking over his shoulder to make sure the door was still closed, he took the bag out of the drawer and unzipped it.
The bottle of morphine was right on top. He took it out and searched the bag, finding another bottle. He placed the bag next to him and stared at the bottles in his hand. Looking over his should again, he slipped them into his pocket before continuing his search through the drawer so he could get to work.
"I still can't get an answer," Angel said, hanging up Baker's phone. After the female detective called Ed to get the address of Connor's safe house, he gave her the phone number to the house as well. She then gave her phone to Angel and the drag queen had been trying to get in touch with either Connor or Collins since.
"Wait a few minutes and then try again," Sanders told her. Angel was already re-dialing the number. "The cottage isn't that far from the police station. When do you think we should call?"
"When we're closer than we are," Baker replied. She kept her eyes on the road as she spoke. "They won't know enough about what's going on and we can't have them just sitting there waiting for us."
"It's not even ringing!" Angel shouted, hanging up again.
"Chica, just wait a little while before trying again, okay?" Mimi said. She took the phone away from her friend.
"I can't wait. I need to know that he's okay." Angel took the phone back and dialed the number again. She put it to her ear and, this time, she got through. "Oh my God! It's ringing!" The phone rang twice before someone picked up.
"Hello?" Angel felt a wave of relief come over her. She was ecstatic to hear her boyfriend's voice.
"Collins!" she exclaimed. "Honey, it's me. Are you okay?"
"Oh, thank God. Yeah, I'm fine. Listen, Connor brought me to his safe house and his mom is really his aunt and-"
"We know what's going on," Angel interrupted. "And according to her husband, she's trying to kill you."
"I know. She's here right now."
"She is?"
"Yes. She's holding us hostage and she's got a gun and a bag. I don't know what's in it, but I doubt it's anything good."
"Honey, we're on our way to you right now, okay?"
"You have to hurry. She's deranged and . . ." Angel waited for Collins to finish his sentence, but he never did. She could hear a woman's voice followed by a cry of pain she was sure came from her lover.
"Collins?" she said. "Collins, are you there?"
"Who is this?" the woman's voice came. Angel's heart sank.
"Is this Anna Gibson?"
"Yes it is. Who is this?"
"My name is Angel and the man you're holding captive is my boyfriend."
"I'm saving his soul. He's not a captive."
"Let him go, Mrs. Gibson."
"I have to save him. It's what God told me to do."
"I'm with the police right now and we're on our way to you. It would only benefit you to let Collins and Connor go."
"Angel, was it?"
"Yes."
"Angel, I know you don't understand this, but I'm doing the Lord's work and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't interfere." That was the last thing Angel heard before a dial tone. She took the phone away from her ear and looked at it.
"What did she say?" Mimi asked. Angel said nothing and kept her attention on the phone. She then quickly dialed the number again. It didn't ring.
"Detective Baker, you need to drive faster," she said. Baker didn't ask questions or protest as she sped up and turned the car's siren on.
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