The Hostage
Chapter One
Sirens screamed through the darkness of the night. Lights flashed, casting a
strange reddish-blue tint to everything they touched. The normally quiet
suburban neighborhood soon woke from its previously undisturbed slumber. A
light flashed on in the upper window of a nearby home. A shadow passed over the
drawn curtains as the occupant was awakened by the noise outside on the street.
The curtains parted to reveal the form of a woman after only a brief pause.
"What is it?" asked a sleepy male voice.
"I'm not sure." Replied the shadowed form of the female. "Go back to sleep.
I'll check it out and see."
The male within the large bed dutifully closed his eyes without another thought.
The curtain within her hands dropped away and she turned back to the bed to grab
up her night wrap. Slinging it around her well-muscled, broad shoulders, she
tied it around her tiny waist and was shutting the door to the bedroom without
thought to the lover she was leaving behind.
She descended toward the first floor in total darkness, not bothering with the
light for she knew her childhood home like the back of her hand. At the bottom
of the wide, carpeted stairs she turned left, heading for the front door and
pulling it wide without thinking.
Stepping out into the coolness of the October night, she pulled the wrap tighter
and approached the officers gathered around the mangled remains of what looked
like an SUV. It had been smashed into a telephone pole in one of her neighbor's
yards and she was shocked to see no one inside as she got closer. The
headlights almost touched and she had to wonder how anyone could have survived.
The driver's door had been pushed open and she thought for a moment that maybe
the occupant had already been taken away to the hospital.
"Ma'am..." said an officer in a stern voice as she got closer. "Ma'am, please
go back inside. There's nothing to see here."
She moved closer, giving the officer a stern look of her own before asking a
simple, "What happened?"
"Ma'am, please, go back inside and lock your doors." The officer commanded in
return.
The woman planted her feet in her perfectly manicured lawn and crossed her arms
over her well-endowed chest as she said. "Tell me what's going on."
The officer sighed deeply, sensing somehow that he wouldn't win without telling
her what she wanted to know. With a placating hand on her elbow, he explained
as he turned her back toward her home. "Ma'am, the suspect is still loose in
the neighborhood. Now please, go back inside your home and lock all your
doors." He said, giving her a gentle but insistent shove back toward her front
door.
With a soft snort, she did just that, all but slamming the door behind her.
Once inside again, she moved through the darkness toward the kitchen, still not
bothering with the light.
She was halfway there when she felt something hard and cold shoved into her
back, just below her ribs. A hand descended over her mouth and pulled her
backwards into the object and a sudden voice hissed in her ear. "Make a sound
and I swear I'll shoot you..."
If she'd have been able she would have laughed, but the hand over her mouth made
sure she couldn't do anything other than stand there. Which is what she did,
remaining still as stone until he spoke again.
"Is there anyone else in the house?" hissed in her ear a second or so later.
Slowly, she shook her head underneath his hand, thinking to herself that while
her lover was upstairs, he wouldn't be appearing anytime soon no matter how much
noise she made.
She smelled the fear rolling off the man behind her, as well as the blood, which
was obviously from the crashed SUV next door. He had to have been hiding
somewhere in the manicured bushes outside and had snuck inside when no one was
looking.
"You're sure you're alone?" he questioned, shoving the gun in her ribs harder in
implication.
She nodded, keeping her breathing calm and even while she simply folded her
hands in front of tightly wrapped robe.
"If I take my hand away promise you won't scream?"
Again she nodded as the barrel was pushed deeper into her ribs and the hand
slowly dropped away. "Put your hands behind you," he commanded in a soft hiss.
She did just that. His free hand dropped to the belt of her robe and untied it
swiftly, pulling the ends around behind her and wrapping them around her crossed
wrists.
"If you behave I'll let you go after the police have moved on..." he hissed
softly as he wound the belt. When he seemed satisfied that she wasn't going
anywhere, he shoved the barrel of the gun deeper in her ribs to prod her toward
the back of the house. "I heard you talking to the cops. What did you say?" he
asked as he guided her along with a tight grip on her shoulder.
"I simply asked what was going on." She replied as they moved through the
darkness toward the kitchen. "They weren't very forthcoming I'm afraid, other
than to say you were still in the neighborhood." She admitted honestly,
shrugging her shoulders.
"You're not afraid of me?" he asked as they arrived in the kitchen and he pushed
her into the chair with a hard shove.
The air left her for a moment and she sucked in a breath before being able to
answer. "If you were going to shoot me, you already would have." She stated
when she could. "Besides that weapon is not silenced and the cops would come
running with the first shot." She stated as she saw his shadow pass over the
window.
From the looks of his outline, he was a big man, at least 6'3" or 6'4" with very
broad shoulders. She could just make out the standard issue orange prison
jumper he still wore.
"You escaped from the county jail." She stated in a soft, simple tone. It was
an observation, made calmly as he moved toward the back door and checked the
locks in the darkness.
"Yes. I did." His voice returned as he came around behind her again. Grabbing
a handful of her long, full hair, he pulled back hard. "Does that scare you?"
Again, she shrugged slowly, her eyes tearing slightly in pain. "Not really, but
there's no need to get violent about it." She said slowly. "I won't fight you."
When he didn't seem reassured, she smiled in the darkness and whispered in her
best seductive tone. "I promise..." as she shifted slightly and pushed her
ample chest through the folds of her wrap.
He dropped her hair then, shoving her head forward roughly. "What are
you...some kind of sick freak?" he asked as he moved off in the darkness again
and peered out the small window over the sink.
She chuckled to herself, but remained calm, tossing her hair out of the way as
she spoke again. "Not really. Just a girl making the best of what could be a
terrifying situation."
His silhouette turned toward her then and she saw his smile and the light from
outside glinted off the barrel of the gun as he brandished it toward her.
"That's right lady. Don't screw around. Behave yourself and I'll be out of
here soon..." he said emphasizing each word with a shake of the gun.
Again she chuckled to herself and relaxed back against the kitchen chair,
lifting one leg to cross it over the other as if she was merely getting ready to
share a cup of tea with someone. "I told you I wouldn't fight you," she said
softly.
Several hours passed with the man continually staring out the window. The
police finally moved on, giving up on the search. She saw his wide shoulders
slump in relief as the last of the police lights was turned off and the cars
began to disperse. Neither of them had said a word since her last statement and
it was he that broke the silence as he came toward her in the darkness.
"Come on." He stated, tucking the weapon into his pocket as he lifted her from
the chair. "I need to get out of here. Where are your car keys?" he asked as
he dragged her toward the front hall again.
"In my purse on the table." She stated, moving along without resistance.
When they reached the mentioned object, he rummaged around in it for a moment
and finally pulled out a set of keys on a simple ring. "Where's your car?"
"In the garage." She returned coolly.
He muttered something about literal females, and began to shove her toward the
hall coat closet. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to tie you up and gag you." He
stated without compunction as he opened the door.
"Not really." She said, planting her feet much as she had in the lawn hours
before. "I could always fix you a nice, warm meal before you go." She stated.
When he didn't respond, but kept trying to shove her in the closet, she tried
logic. "I mean, who knows when you're going to get to eat again." She added
when he didn't seem convinced. "I'm an excellent cook, I assure you, and could
have a nice steak and potatoes whipped up in no time," she added slowly, still
unmoved despite his attempts to get her into the closet.
His stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly, reminding him that he hadn't
eaten since his supper in the jail the evening before. He debated a moment
more, then removed the gun from his pocket and shoved it into her ribs again.
"Alright, but no funny business." He stated in a cold, menacing voice as he
undid the loops of her belt.
"No funny business." She reiterated with a slight smirk on her lips as she
turned and moved off back toward the kitchen.
Reaching around the doorjamb she turned on the light and got her first good look
at her captor since his unexpected arrival. In turn, he got the first good look
at his hostage once his eyes had adjusted to the light.
He was 6'4", as she'd surmised, with long brownish blond hair that easily
reached the collar of the bright orange jumpsuit. His chest was broad, well
muscled, as she'd guessed, testifying to either a life of hard work, or a long
prison sentence. His bright blue eyes looked cold and calculating as they took
in the modest, clean and homey kitchen. His long legs were even more muscular
than his chest, and she turned away to hide the smirk on her lips as she moved
off toward the cabinets.
He slid slowly into the chair she'd occupied with the gun still trained on her
and following her every move as he took her in with a cold eye. She was tall,
for a woman, almost six feet herself, well muscled if the flat stomach, broad
shoulders and long, toned legs were any indication. She moved with a kind of
grace that most women just didn't have. Confidence. Cool, calm confidence that
wasn't lost on him. If times had been different...he might have...
~What!~ he mentally berated himself. ~Dated her?~ he wondered next with a
derisive chuckle at his own thoughts.
He watched, gulping softly as her long, almost pitch black hair swayed softly
against her pristine white robe. The silk rustled softly as she pulled down a
can of coffee from the cabinet. She fixed a pot and set it to brew before
moving off toward the refrigerator with slow, cool grace.
"You really aren't scared of me are you?" he asked incredulously.
Her wide shoulders shrugged slowly as she rummaged around in the freezer for the
steak she'd promised him. She turned back, setting the meat on the counter
before answering. "Like I said, if you were going to shoot me, you'd have done
so in those first moments." She stated softly, unwrapping the meat to let it
thaw while she bent and retrieved a wide skillet from another cabinet.
The coffee was just finishing up as she set the pan on the eye of the stove.
Flipping on the heat, she pulled out two mugs. "Mind if I join you?" she asked
slowly looking to him for an answer with the pot poised to pour.
He jerked the gun once and nodded. As she poured, he noticed the slight shake
in her hand. ~So, she's not as calm as she seems...~ his mind said with a soft
chuckle. ~Gotta give her credit though...~ it added a moment later as she set
the cup in front of him. ~She's trying...~
For just a moment, he thought she might toss the hot brew in his face, scalding
him and trying to escape. But it descended slowly toward the table without
incident, especially after he cocked the gun.
She had to turn away quickly to hide the smirk on her face and in her eyes as
she reached for her own cup and took a long swig. Turning back and under
control again, she leaned against the counter, cup in hand and asked softly,
"So, what'd you do?" while she waited for the pan to heat.
"Killed a man..." he stated in a non-chalant tone lifting and drinking from his
own mug. "At least that's what they seem to think." He added, licking the warm,
wonderful "real" coffee from his lips. He was unable to help the soft sigh that
escaped him as he spoke next. "This coffee is good. What kind is it?" He
couldn't have stopped the question even if he'd wanted to, because he hadn't
coffee that good in months.
She shrugged, the action causing her robe to part again and expose her tanned
breasts. "My own blend. A bit of Columbian Bean, some nutmeg, a pinch of
vanilla, and a smidge of orange to add some flavoring." She stated as she turned
toward the fridge to retrieve the butter. "Would you like mushrooms with your
steak?" she asked solicitously.
"Sure." He returned, amazed that this woman, only a few inches shorter than
himself, could be so calm in the face of what was happening between them. He
took another long draw from the cup in his hand, and shook his head at the turn
of events. It was as if she'd turned the tables on him with hardly any effort
at all. Going from hostage to hostess as she plopped a generous helping of
butter in the skillet then added the steak. Both sizzled softly as the heat
began to cook them and she calmly took a few moments to chop up some potatoes
and put some water on to boil.
"Do you mind if I season the steak?" she asked as she stood in front of her
opened cabinets. "I just can't stand the thought of serving you something that
I wouldn't eat myself." She added as she began to pull down several bottles and
was sprinkling the seasonings before he could answer.
"What are you adding?" he asked, rising slowly to come toward her and the
heavenly aroma already wafting off the pan. His stomach rumbled again and he
thought about the last decent meal he'd had. It had been months, literally, not
since the night he was arrested. He'd been visiting his mother, on the other
side of Chicago. They were just sitting down for dinner when a heavy pounding
sounded on the door. He shook his head to stave off the memory and poked the
gun in her back again. "I said, what are you adding?"
"And I said, nothing but some simple spices." She said again, her voice going
slightly irritated before she brought it under control. "Some pepper, garlic, a
pinch of rosemary just for flavoring, and a bit of salt. Trust me, it'll be the
best steak you've ever had. I told you I was quite the cook." She added as she
worked the spices into the meat with a long fork.
Again, he thought she might turn and try to attack him with the fork, but she
kept it on the steak, indeed working the spices into the meat as it cooked. She
added a bit more from one bottle, then from a second, and finally a third before
she spoke, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "I told you I wouldn't
fight you. Now please sit down, it won't take long to cook."
He couldn't help himself and moved to obey without question. He wondered, once
more, how she'd managed to turn the tables on him, from hostage to hostess, but
she had and he eased himself back into the chair without thinking. Laying the
gun on the table, he lifted his cup and asked politely. "More coffee please?"
She turned, lowering the heat on the steak and poured him another cup without a
word. All the while that she cooked, she sipped from her own cup. It took her
about 1/2 an hour to finish off the heavenly smelling meal and set it before
him. The sun was just lightening the sky as he picked up the knife and fork and
dug in without another word passing between them.
She sat back in the chair calmly watching him eat, all the while drinking her
coffee. He ate heartily, as if this was his last meal, digging in and
swallowing the barely chewed meat. She made a mental note to work on his
manners in the future, but let it go without saying anything as she sipped at
the home made brew in her cup. He was half way threw the meal before he
realized something was wrong.
His limbs began to get heavy...laden...as if he suddenly had great weights
attached to his wrists. He began to struggle to lift each bite to his mouth,
but he was so consumed with eating the meal that he couldn't focus on what was
actually wrong. It was only after he couldn't lift his arms at all, that he
managed to lift his head toward her and question in a slurred voice,
"What...what did...you do?"
She shrugged again and he finally saw the smirk on her face as her eyes
glittered across the table at him. "Drugged you." She stated as she set the cup
down with a long, slow smile.
"With...with what..." he asked as he began to loose control over the muscles in
his face.
"Oh it's harmless, I promise you." She stated rising out of the chair and coming
around the table to calmly pick up the gun he'd threatened her with all night.
His eyes grew wide with fear for a moment and she chuckled as she pulled the
clip from the butt and calmly emptied it into one hand. "Don't worry, I'm not
going to shoot you." She said as she dropped the now empty magazine and bullets
into one pocket of her robe. Tossing the gun to the table, she moved his arms
to his sides and straddled him on the chair. Running her long fingers threw his
hair she chuckled slowly as she spoke.
"The drug I gave you is my own blend, like my coffee." She stated, leaning back
against the table behind her and slowly beginning to unzip the front of his
jumpsuit. "You'll be able to see and hear everything that's going on around
you," she said as the zipper slid open. "But unable to react. You can blink
your eyes and with some will power move your head, but anything below your neck
is useless...for at least 24 hours." She added as the zipper opened fully and
she got her first glimpse at his rock hard chest.
Sighing softly, she ran her long fingers over the hard planes and her eyes
twinkled as they gazed into his. "Just as I'd hoped...not an ounce of fat...A
fine addition...yes indeed, a fine addition..." she added as she rose off his
lap and moved off out of his line of sight without another word.
