Chapter 40th

I pulled my arms free, encountering little resistance there: dumbfound, Chris stared towards the door, a scowl forming across his harmonizing features. Dreaming that would be a long-lasting cue, I quickly stood and reached for the door – but he secured me, grabbing my arms and turning me around without even having to look at me to do so. Twisted, he pulled me to him and I slammed against his torso, where I was safely pressed by his firm arm while he watched the door still, incredulous and distressed.

"Let me go!" I screamed.

"No…" he answered distractedly, thinking to himself "No… I won't let you go. In fact… I just might break your neck, if you don't stop fidgeting…"

He barely moved as I struggled under his arm, focused as he was in listening…

And expectedly, three heavy slams to the door were heard, much louder and much more urgent than the first time around, and a male voice echoed through the lonely shady corridor downstairs:

"Miss Abigail…" the cop pronounced my name – my real name - rudely, aware at last! "OPEN THE DOOR! NOW!"

Imbued with agitation, I pranced, struggling. Chris pressed me closer to him, robbing me of freedom.

"He's back!" I spoke, an air of exhilaration escaping me. "I must…"

"From here!" Chris gnarled his jaw as he spoke into my ear, struggling to control some ill mood that took over him "You answer it from here this time!"

I felt his free hand snake upwards on my back, grabbing the back of my neck and pushing me ahead of him like a puppet. The touch, I supposed, was meant to both control and reinforce the earlier threat, for it did feel that way: like he'd snap my neck in two with just a firmer hold.

Slowly, very carefully and very hesitantly, he clicked the doorknob open and pushed it lightly, so that it creaked as it revealed the quiet shades outside. All was silent.

"Answer him!" He ordered, bending me forward and squeezing me into obedience.

"Ouch… Y-yes? W-what is it?!"

"It's the Police, miss Abigail!" the cop replied impatiently "Open the door."

His voice was much graver than I'd heard it before, there was no mistaking that! But alas! He sounded mad, and he sounded alone… none of those things would be true if he had caught up to my predicament as I hoped he would! I felt myself despair.

"Send him away!" Chris demanded

"G-go away!"

"Not like that, you dim-" Chris sighed, reflected. Hell… he didn't know how to get out of that one himself! "Tell him you can't right now – you're busy. He'll have to wait."

"You'll have to wait, I – I'm busy, I can't come to the phone right now-"

"To the door!" Chris moaned, clenching his teeth to spare me the weight of his frustration.

"…phone?" I heard the cop ask himself, puzzled.

"Door!" I corrected. My mind was hazy, agitated.

Chris dropped his head, exasperated.

Silence for a minute...

"Open this door NOW or I will bring it down!!"

My breathing wavered… it came out in a snort – the happy, hopeful, elated snort of a smile I couldn't contain. I almost felt like running down, and perhaps some motion could be felt through my muscles to give that away, for Chris held me closer and tighter.

"Alright, that's it!" He sighed "You win! Go right ahead, let him in!"

I turned to look at his face, puzzled. Only frustration and impatience were translated there. He pushed the door ajar, stretched out his hand and pursed his lips in an almost comical surrender.

"Off with you!"

Dumbly confused, I stared.

"Go." Chris pushed me by the shoulder, shoving me ahead of him. He wasn't careful… this wasn't calculated.

'This is it!' I thought. 'I got it: I've infuriated him!' my brain quickly fired: I'd finally managed to use to my advantage his vexation, his miscalculations… they all culminated in very rash decisions, and now he just wanted to get away from them. The threats to my family were a bluff… killing the cop was a bluff. I was finally too much trouble to be worth it! Still, I lingered to look him in the eye, leveled, almost fearless as I felt now…

"Come on!" he rushed, offering me a firmer push to the back, wasting no time!

I walked out into the corridor – walked, not ran – my legs rigid, fretful, expecting him to come after me – hell, to shoot me! But he didn't. I climbed down the stairs, exhilarated. As soon as I was at the bottom, Chris trotted down himself, his eyes focused on his steps, never minding me on my trajectory to freedom. Still, I paused to watch him, scared. And as I backed towards the door, he disappeared the other way – running, most likely, like the coward that he was. My ears were overwhelmed with the sound of blood gushing violently. My voice was lost deep, deep inside of me when, giving it a second – or a full minute, perhaps, for Chris to disappear, for this whole mess to efface as if it had never happened – I pulled open the front door, welcoming the cool fresh breeze outside as if it was the first time I breathed it in ages. And feeling like my heart would burst.

Outside, it was quiet. The cop stood there, and he turned to face me.

"I believe you have yourself some explaining to do!" he said, his face hard and surly.

I heaved in a huge gulp of air; my tongue was tied. It didn't matter, I'd gesture.

"I… I… You wouldn't… please…"

Speaking didn't matter. Being understood didn't matter. I simply didn't care.

"You know what? Excuse me!" Possibly reading the lack of seriousness in my face, he squeezed himself past me "I will see myself in!"

I turned to watch him in, into the shady corridor, then straight ahead. I felt dizzy, like in a movie… my heart was nearly jumping out of my chest and time slowed down.

It happened very subtly then, so much so that I couldn't tell where it started, or what triggered it. Suddenly, I caught myself frowning, my eyes dry, bulging as I watched with expectation. Suddenly, I didn't know why I was dizzy and why my heart was beating so fast: was it because I was happy, desperate to be free… or was it because I had just realized something was wrong? Just given myself the time to think, to reflect, and to suspect that… too late! It was already too late! I wasn't happy, I despaired!

The cop walked straight towards the kitchen, where he turned his head around to check everything that expected him there. But, like a shade – the tall shade we fear as children when we leave our beds during the night – Chris hid behind the wall in my bedroom. I could see him there now, now that I knew and now that I focused my eyes hard enough. I could see him watching me from the shadow, narrow-eyed, malicious.

My limbs were heavy then – so heavy, they could never move fast enough, and yet I gave it my all as it felt like I swam through wet cement to reach him – that damned cop, who ever dared crossing my way. No time to speak – no time to call him out, to alert him… there was only time to run as Chris stepped swiftly from the dark, casting a shadow over the cop, who finally turned – not with a gun in hand, not prepared, not nearly as smart as he'd have to be in order to escape.

But time was slow enough – slow enough that I saw his own eyes widen with surprise, his mouth begin to open to issue some sort of cry. Hell, even his arm had started to contract, to pull towards his back, where his gun waited… but in his eyes that same light of despair shone as he knew what I knew: there was no time. We were too late!

Chris struck him across the jaw and his legs folded under him. I had stopped my race then… I skidded still, sliding towards them, grasping the air before me for a brake but inevitably landing next to him.

Chris turned to me and I gasped as we were face to face with each other. The brief moment in which I thought this was over was enough to bring back the horror as if it had been the first time. I blinked, incredulous and shocked, and his lips cocked sideways in a collected smile.

Of course I tried to run. Of course I didn't care enough for the cop to linger behind and die with him. My entire body turned as soon as it had lost its forward momentum… but I was too late. Always too late. Chris stretched his arm and grabbed me by my shirt, pulling me off my feet. Pulling me so fast, my voice failed to scream – the air failed to come. The door was wide open, I could see the greying sky outside… I could hear the distant mumbling of people walking by… and yet I didn't get a single word out.

In one single, uninterrupted swoop, Chris pulled me from the floor, opened the basement door and hurled me into the darkness, the door closing again before I could recover. Silence was oppressive – the dark was smothering.

"NO!" I got up. I ran up the steps I had rolled down. I punched the door. It shook violently. It creaked. It banged. But it wouldn't open.

Too late… always too late!

"LET ME OUT!"

No one could hear me. The house was locked again. Locked, silent and cold, just as before. Nothing had changed.

"LET ME GO!!"

I pleaded, I gasped and I cried… and at last, I sighed, exhausted:

"Please don't hurt him…"

At last, I had the time to care.

"This is all my fault!"

I pushed my back against the door, then slid down, tucked in my knees, hid my face between them and sobbed disconsolately. Hope, indeed, was the one that caused the greatest pain.