I almost forgot how beautiful Briar looks when she’s sleeping.
Right now, she’s asleep on the sofa in my living room, breathing softly. Her hair is loose, and it’s all spread out over my couch cushions. It’s a really nice golden colour. And soft, too. I know how soft it is. When I was putting her in the car, I gagged her, and then I got to run my fingers through it. It was cheating, I suppose; I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t touch her until she’d woken up and I’d fed her dinner and kissed her. That’s the proper order to do it in. But I couldn’t help touching her hair when I was gagging her.
She was very quiet on the drive down here. I wasn’t sure how long the chloroform would last, so I put some on her gag, too, and tied it over her mouth. Just in case she did wake up, I used zip ties for her wrists. When I bought them in the supply store (along with some craft blades, duct tape, and more insulation for my walls) the sales lady laughed and said that I was all set for my career as a serial killer. I scarpered quick. I didn’t want her to remember my face. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I’ve been so worried the past few weeks. I’ve had nightmares that the police will find me and catch me before I can bring Briar home.
It turns out, all of that worry was for nothing. Tonight went off without a hitch. The bombs worked perfectly. When I threw them into the crowd, the explosions sent all the security and police running towards the blast. It was simple enough to knock Briar out and slip away.
Briar twitches in her sleep, and a massive smile spreads across my face. She’s waking up. I’m so excited to finally talk to her. I’ve been dreaming of this exact moment for years.
She twitches again, harder this time, and then groans. I stand slowly. “Angel? Are you waking up?”
She groans again, then starts to choke horribly.
I rush over to help her as she doubles over, heaving over the edge of the couch. Nothing comes up, but she looks awful. Her face is chalky white and sweaty.
My chest aches. “Oh, angel. I’m sorry. It’s the anaesthetic, isn’t it?” I sit down on the couch next to her, putting a hand on her back. Her bare back. She shudders and coughs. “I’m sorry,” I say again. “I tried the drugs on myself, to make sure they wouldn’t make you feel too bad. But I guess you’re reacting differently to them.”
She heaves a breath, then reaches out to grab my hand weakly. My heart stops. Trying to breathe, I squeeze her fingers.
“I’m so dizzy,” she mumbles. “Kent…”
I frown. Kent? Is that a name? Or is she just talking gibberish?
She leans into me, whimpering. “I don’t feel… I’m… help me—”
“I’m here, love,” I murmur, smoothing my hand down her back. Her skin is like satin, but warm and alive under my fingertips. “I’m here. You’re safe, now.”
She shakes her head and gags again. I let her go and rush to find a bin, kicking it in front of her right as she starts to get sick. It goes on for a long time. I think maybe putting the chloroform on her gag was a bad idea.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur over and over. “So, so sorry. Poor darling. You’ll feel better soon.” I feel terrible. This isn’t how I wanted us to meet at all. I never wanted to hurt her. But really, how was I supposed to know she’d have a bad reaction to chloroform?
Eventually, she sits up, leaning heavily against the back of the couch. Her face is very white and her eyes are hazy. She blinks heavily a few times, trying to focus on me.
“X?” She says slowly.
I smile. “Hello, baby. Please, call me Daniel.”
She doesn’t say anything. Worry pinches me. Maybe she prefers ‘X’? I suppose it is more sexy and mysterious than Daniel. “Or ‘X’ is fine,” I tell her quickly. “Whatever you want, love.”
Her eyes flick around the room. Then she looks down at her hands.
“Untie me,” she rasps.
I pat her hand. “Not yet, love. I want to make sure you’ve got all your faculties back, first. You’re still a bit under the influence. You might do something rash.”
She stares at me, breathing heavily. I wonder if she understood everything that I just said.
“Can I brush my teeth,” she whispers eventually.
I perk up. “Of course!” I run into the bathroom, picking out the sparkly pink toothbrush I propped next to my blue one, loading it up with toothpaste. I usually just get store-brand, but I got extra-special whitening stuff for her, the most expensive they had. I grab a cup for her to spit, then bring them back to her. She’s sitting slumped against the sofa arm, her eyes glassy.
“It’s your favourite colour.” I show her. “Pink!” I kneel back down next to her. “Come on, now, angel. Let me help you.”
She tries to flinch away, but I grip her head to hold her in place, and brush her teeth for her. I’ve never brushed somebody else’s teeth before. She glares at me the whole time. When I finish up, I give her the cup to spit into. “There. You must feel better now, right?”
She’s still for a moment, her eyes fixed on my face, every muscle in her body quivering.
Then she bolts, staggering upright and flying for the front door. I swear, lunging after her as she pounds at the thick metal pane, her hands patting all over to look for a handle. It’s no use. She wouldn’t be able to get out of this room if she had a sledgehammer. I wrap my arms around her and start to tug her away. She’s fit, but she’s still weak from the drugs. I lift her right off the ground and carry her back to the sofa. She squirms in my arms, trying to kick me, and I blush as her body rubs against mine.
Soon.
“Okay, okay, none of that.” I prop her back against the sofa cushions. “Listen up,” I say firmly. “I am a very nice person, but you have to play fair with me, okay? You have to play by the rules.”
“Play fair?” She breathes incredulously. “What about this is fair?”
I squat down next to the couch so I can look right into her beautiful face. “Fair means no more trying to get away, okay? You won’t be able to do it; I’ve arranged the house so you won’t be able to get out. And the insulation means that nobody can hear you.” I push some hair gently behind her ear, and she flicks her head away, trying to throw me off. This makes me mad. I grab a handful of her hair and hold it very, very tight.
“I am going to be very kind to you,” I tell her, pulling on her hair hard. “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll get you anything you need. But you must remember that I am in charge. Okay?”
“If you let me out, I won’t call the police,” she says, her voice shaking. “No one ever needs to know this happened. I’ll go back to my hotel. We can pretend that I ran and hid when the bombs went off, then I snuck off home.”
I smile. “Angel, you know that’s not going to work. That’s not what I want at all.”
She leans forward. “What do you want? Money? I’ll give you all the money I have, I don’t care about it.”
“I know you don’t. It’s one of the things I love about you.” I stand up, brushing off my trousers. “I don’t want your money. I just want you to be my guest.”
“Your… guest?” She repeats slowly.
“I want you to live here with me. I want to eat meals with you. And watch TV with you. And just…” I shrug, my face going red. “Be with you.”
“You want to trap me here,” she says flatly.
“I know it must seem like that,” I say gently. “But really, you’ll be very comfortable. I have plenty of money. Not as much as you’re used to,” I frown. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll earn more. But I can get you anything you want. And it’s not forever.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Really? When will you let me go?”
“When you fall in love with me,” I say simply. “When you agree to marry me, then we can leave the cabin and do whatever you want. Shopping, cinema. You can… can…” I try to think of things girls like. “Have your nails painted. You won’t be able to work, of course. If I could, I’d delete every copy of every video and movie you’ve ever been in. I’d burn every magazine and poster. I don’t like other people looking at you.”
She doesn’t say anything.
I shake my head. “No. No more working. But I know you like to act.” I lick my lips. “If you want to put on little shows for me, sometimes, I’d be very happy to watch them. But first, you have to agree to marry me. And I have to believe that you mean it. So that will probably take a few months, at least.”
She’s silent for a long time, her eyes cold as she studies me. Eventually, she flicks her hair back and shakes her head. “I’ll never love you.”
This really annoys me. She’s just decided that she won’t love me without ever giving me a chance. All my life, women have done this. I want to love them, but they just decide I’m not worthy of them. It’s cruel.
“You need to understand,” I snap. “That I don’t have anybody else.”
“Why does that mean you should have me?!” She argues.
“Don’t you think that everybody deserves someone?”
“Sure. But no one’s entitled to love. You have to earn it.”
“I have earned you!” I shout, losing my temper. “I’ve worked so hard for you. Look at everything I’ve done for you.” I wave around the room. She doesn’t look away from me. She’s breathing hard, her breasts heaving and trembling in her low-cut dress. I want to look so badly, but I know that will just make her more angry. “You’ll never understand,” I tell her. “Right now, I bet there are so many people looking for you. Your agent, and your bodyguards, and your fans—they all want you back. If I disappeared, no one would care. No one would notice. So.” I take a deep breath. “I think I deserve to be happy with the woman I love.”
“You don’t love me,” she whispers. “You don’t even know me.”
I frown. What a stupid thing to say. “Of course I love you. You’re all I think about. Everything I do, I do for you.” She stares up at me impassively. “I love the way you walk,” I continue. “I love your voice. Your smile. Your hair. I love everything about you.” I swallow. “I… I think I’ve gone mad over you. You’ve made me mad.”
But that’s what love is, right? It makes you mad. I clear my throat. “So, yes, I do love you. And I do know you. Ever since the day we met, I’ve studied up on you. I know the clothes you like, where you work out, your favourite snacks. Loads of things.”
She blinks. “We’ve met before?”
“You might not recognise me that easily,” I smile. “You were sixteen years old. I went to a convention you spoke at. You dropped your handbag, and I picked it up for you, and you smiled at me.” I take a deep breath, remembering. “You smiled right at me, and I could feel how much you cared about me. I felt the connection between us.”
Her face twists. “Whatever connection you felt was completely one-sided,” she spits. “You made it up in your head.”
She may as well have kicked me in the chest. I stagger a step back. “You’re lying.”
She glares up at me. “I’m not. I smile at thousands of people a day at those events.”
“You are. You have to be. I…” I trail off, running a hand through my hair. I’m very stressed and upset. “You’re really starting to hurt my feelings,” I warn her.
“Really?” Her eyes widen. “I’m so sorry! I’d hate to hurt your feelings.”
She’s being sarcastic. I scowl. I don’t like this side of her. This isn’t how this was supposed to go. “I think you need a time out,” I decide. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you’re really upsetting me.”
I pick up the gag on the table and stomp into the bathroom, bending under the sink and pulling out the sealed bucket of chloroform I made earlier today. I dip the gag in it, then head back into the lounge, waving it to dry it out.
Her eyes widen when she sees what I’m holding. She tries to get up again, but I grab her by the shoulder and push her back onto the couch. I don’t mean to push her hard, but her head cracks against the wall, and she cries out, trying to tug away.
“X, please, no—”
I slap the cloth onto her face. “No, no, I think you should have some more of this. I don’t want to talk to you right now.” I hold the gag tightly to her mouth until she groans and goes still again.
I’m not really sure what to do next, so I go and make myself a cup of tea, trying not to cry.
