The Girl Who Was Taken by Charlie Donlea

Author:Charlie Donlea [Donlea, Charlie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2017-02-17T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

His last visit, so anticipated and carefully planned, had gone poorly. She had been in a particularly defiant mood that evening, and he knew it as soon as he entered the cellar. He’d walked down the stairs to find her standing with one side of the dismantled bed frame in her hand like a baseball bat. It hurt him to see her like that, so ready to fight him and strike him. All he had done was offer to love this one and take care of her. He wanted to give her a fair chance.

It was a burden for him that evening, with his hopes high on a pleasant night of companionship, to have to repair her meddling. First he overpowered her, which he did without difficulty, but the process put a damper on the evening. Then he tied her to the opposite side of the room so he could repair the bed in peace and without fear that she would attack him. Finally, worst of all, he punished her. This, he hated most. Such high hopes for the evening, it was a pity to have ended it that way. But if their relationship were to survive, they each had to follow the rules. He was not outside of those rules. Certainly not. He laid them out for her when they first started together, and promised he would never break the rules unless she forced him to do so. Unfortunately, with this one in particular, they were broken often. Much more than the others.

After that last evening ended so badly, he feared things were at a breaking point for them now. They were at that proverbial fork in the road he had reached with all of them. Despite each of their journeys being unique and lasting various lengths of time, they all seemed to reach this fork. In one direction, happiness and bliss. In the other, sorrow and grief.

That night when he found her armed and ready to strike, he calmly repaired the bed and delivered a swift and appropriate punishment. Afterward, he offered one more chance to make things work. He trusted and truly believed she was willing to try. She told him as much that night, nearly begged him for another chance. So he arranged tonight, another special evening when he had all the time in the world and no one was waiting for him at home and no one would question where’d he been. They wouldn’t need to rush things.

When he descended the cellar stairs tonight, however, he knew immediately she had lied to him. He found her hard at work, having used the sharp end of the box-spring frame again to pry free one of the plywood boards that covered the window. It lay still on the floor, an open picture of her deceit. She had also pried apart the window frame—the heavy glass too thick to penetrate—to produce a gapping crevice through which she had managed to wedge half her torso until she trapped her head and neck and one of her arms outside the cellar window, her chest and lower body inside.

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