Chapter 36th

I watched as Chris pressed his ear to the door, listening.

"It's him." I pursed my lips – scorching hot with the commotion – breathed in, let it out "It's the cop, I'm sure of it. And he heard me."

"If he had, he'd have broken that door down already…" Chris spoke confidently, untroubled by my provocation.

"Still, he heard something of that. Maybe you slamming the door shut… In any case, he knows there's someone in here!"

Chris turned his neck, finally listening. The attention made me nervous.

"...I-if I don't answer him…" I reasoned quickly, as quickly as the turmoil in my brain allowed "…he'll know there's something wrong."

"Then I guess you'll just have to send him away!" Chris smiled, matching and effectively subduing the coolness I displayed.

He pulled me up by my shirt and held me before him, resting a firm hold on the back of my neck and pushing me towards the door.

"…But don't think I can't see what you're doing. I can." He threatened, just as agitated as I was. "If you tip him off to anything, you're done!"

He pushed me forward, holding me firmly before the door.

"Whatever you told him before that has made him come back…" Chris instructed softly, whispering into my ear, his fingers threatening to tighten their grip on my neck "…you'll tell him to go away now. Tell him you're fine… And no funny tricks!"

As he reached for the doorknob, I thought some more, calculating my chances of success – of escaping.

"I-I-I can't do it from here. It will seem suspicious! I-I have to go down… to get the door!"

Watching my stuttered plead, Chris gave out a benignant smile:

"Of course you do. And you will!" he raised his eyebrows, bewildering me, then pushed me ahead once more as I'd started recoiling.

My heart beat differently then. Something starting… some form of excitement. I was so tormented and confused, I could barely distinguish it, but there was no mistaking it: it felt like something positive… like wild optimism. And would Chris just let me cultivate it like that? Let it bloom and take root in my now exhilarated chest? He watched me curiously, with that faint smile, as he wrapped his hand around the knob. He smiled as I myself almost smiled, almost giving it away. My wild eyes… I had to control them, to escape his, to not show it…

"Of course…" he began, the words instantly filling me with a fresh gush of tepid fear! "You don't expect I'll let you get away with going off script. You don't, do you?"

Why did I pause? Why didn't I say something? Why did I look at him with such a disappointed expression then, as if hoping he would ever give me the permission to try? His eyes were amused by the dying light in mine.

"You will go down there and get rid of that cop. That's all you're doing…" he clarified, self-possessed and disdainful of my ambition.

I knew it was silly to ask, silly to let it out, to expose my intentions… But every cell of my body needed it, each of them craved the information upon which to base my decisions… idiotically requesting it from the worst possible source:

"I-if I don't?"

He sighed, lowering himself to look me in the eye with a foreboding tranquility – one that said I didn't stand a chance.

"I'm glad you asked…" The corner of his mouth stretched with a half-smile as he reached back on his pants, retrieving a pistol and holding it upwards on display. The sight of it… it made my stomach churn, and my legs went limp. Primal fear shook my bones.

"I'll rephrase it in a way you'll understand: If you do anything out of the expected, I'll put a hole in you."

I hyperventilated, nauseous and stiff as Chris slowly lowered himself closer to me, gun in hand, watching me panic.

"…of course…" he sighed, his smile coming undone, his expression feigning remorse "…I'd have to kill that cop, too. He wouldn't even know what hit him, poor guy. I guess it would be… as if you'd set a trap for him. You wouldn't want that on your conscience, would you?"

Once more, his crooked logic worked to aggravate me.

"You wouldn't." he took the liberty to reply, the cold pang of the metal in his hand brushing lightly against my cheek. "…you're a good girl."

I tried not to think of it too much, not to look at it, but my mind filled with the realistic anticipation of what pain that instrument could bring – a hot bullet pushing me open. I closed my eyes to try and control it, to silence those racing demons… to find logic again.

"Go ahead…" I spoke, my chin quivering, my muscles tense, clenched. "Shoot me. I don't care. You're going to kill me anyway!"

Chris watched me quietly for a second, certainly aware of my shaking, certainly aware of my coward eyes avoiding that gun… I wonder what kind of impression I made.

"Try it…" I pursed my lips, terrified "Try the trigger: I'm not bluffing."

With every word, I was certain I had bought my end, and I stared urgently into his eyes, trying to detect it, dreading it, fearing I'd see it: the light of death before he shot me. And after examining me with his stripping eye, the curiosity in them eased, as if answered – a smile stretched across his face: presumptuous… condescending. The one that had the property of making me feel so small and clueless!

"You know how to put up a fight, don't you? For your age, you really are quite clever, Abby! It's captivating – these little gems you keep surprising me with…" the doorbell buzzed on, it didn't ruffle Chris any further… instead, it seemed to make me more nervous! "But it's only gonna make it all the more enjoyable when I finally break you…" he leaned closer, whispering it into my ear, then lingering, planting a soft kiss on the side of my head "…when you've got no more tricks, and no more brave quotes… and you finally understand that I was just trying to spare you." A sigh. "Now… you will listen to me carefully like the good girl you are under all this brave façade you picked up from some juvenile movie: There is a setback at the door, one that you've somehow brought here…" I blinked, disturbed, as he instructed "You're going to go downstair and use all those keen smarts of yours to answer it and send whoever is there away. You'll tell them everything is peachy with you and make sure they don't come back. If you don't… If you try anything funny, I'll shoot the two of you dead. Not threatening enough? I'll head to your house" I gasped, and he smiled "Yes, that house, the one on the address stuck to the side of your fridge: your mother's. And your sister's. I'm gonna cut them both open and let them bleed, but very slowly, because before they die I'll tell them exactly who sent me their way. I'm sure your family will be very proud of what a helpful young lady you were. After all, you have been very helpful. So, what do you say, huh?" he watched me for an answer, but smiled when I couldn't provide anything but a mute, distant stare.

"See? You really are all that smart! It's a plan, then! Now let's go…"