Captive Vow Page 4

  She was harmless.

  Just there to help.

  Being motherly… motherly. Like I knew what ‘motherly’ really meant.

  Just as complete darkness was about to take hold, there was another knock at the door. Feeling like my head weighed a hundred pounds, I struggled to sit up. It was still way too early for Maria to be stopping by. Viv softly eased me back down, though I’m not sure I would have been able to stand up if she hadn’t. I’d definitely overdone it on the booze and pills. I had no idea they would knock me out like this, and they seemed to grow in intensity with every second.

  “I’ll get it, dear. You just rest.”

  Lying back down, I wasn’t going to argue. Not that I had much of a choice.

  “What are you doing here?” Viv asked in a hushed voice to whomever was on the other side of the door. “You shouldn’t be here yet. It’s not time.” I heard the closing of the door.

  “Who was that?” I asked, struggling to push myself up so I could go see, but failing. Was it Pope coming to pick her up to take her home? I didn’t like the idea of the man knowing where I lived.

  “Nobody, dear,” she said with a warm smile as she came back and adjusted the blanket on me again all nice and snug. “Don’t bother yourself. I just shooed him away. I have it all under control. You just sleep.”

  “If that was Pope—”

  “Oh, no. That wasn’t Pope, dear. He doesn’t know I’m here.”

  Why was she lying to me? Of course it was Pope. Who else would she be speaking to?

  Who cares…

  Feeling as if my body was being swallowed up by a big, thick, all encompassing black wave, I had no choice but to comply. Darkness equaled peace.

  5

  My mouth was dry—so dry—and my eyelids were still heavy as I struggled to pry them open. Waking from my drug-induced slumber wasn’t coming easy, and I wondered if I could have overdosed on the sleeping pills and wine. Was I okay? Would I be able to wake up? Was I dying? Would booze and sleeping pills be the end of me? Why was it so hard to wake up?

  Wait… I couldn’t move…

  I couldn’t move! My eyes were open but everything was black. Blinking to make sure my eyes were really open, I saw absolutely nothing. Panic sunk in when I realized I couldn’t move because I was tied up. My wrists were bound. My ankles were as well, and I was balled up and placed in something that prevented me from thrashing around. Was I in a box? I tried to scream, but a gag, stuffed between my lips and tied around my head, prevented anything other than a muffled whimper from coming out.

  I struggled against the restraints and rocked my body against the walls of my tightly-confined prison. There was no room to do anything as my trapped body took up every last inch of space. I couldn’t even stretch out my legs.

  Oh God!

  Fuck!

  Please! Please! Please let this be a dream!

  I screamed again, but any noise that did escape from my gagged mouth only bounced off the walls of my dark confinement. There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t even cry for help.

  How did this happen?

  How did I get like this?

  Who did this to me?

  My last memory was falling asleep on the couch as Viv tucked me in…

  Oh God, was Viv kidnapped too? Was she bound and gagged in a box as well? That poor old woman. She was too frail, too sick! She would die! Did the monster who did this know she would die?

  I flung my shoulder into the wall of my prison, hoping I could somehow let someone know I was captive. I screamed, though again, it came out muffled. I gyrated my body with every ounce of strength I had as hot tears ran down my face, and then I stopped when I remembered the knock. There had been a knock on my door before I fell asleep. Viv knew the person…

  Pope. Her son.

  He did this! It was Pope Montgomery who had kidnapped me!

  But why? Why would he do this? Because I was friends with his mother? It didn’t make sense, but, then again, there’s no sense in insanity. I did, however, have a small moment of relief knowing Viv was not also gagged and boxed like an animal. There was no way Pope could do something so awful to his own mother. But why me? Why would he do this?

  I recalled the conversation I had with Viv in the diner. She had said her son went to prison. He was a criminal. Viv also had said he was a good man… But wouldn’t any mother say that? Fuck! She said he went to prison for killing a girl. For killing a girl! Fuck!

  “Help me!” I screamed against my gag. Pope Montgomery was going to kill me! “Help! Help! Help!” He was going to hurt me like he had done to the poor girl. He should have never been released from prison. Never! “Help me, please!” I sobbed as I gasped for air. I was going to die.

  Whatever had been used to tie my wrists and ankles rubbed my flesh raw with every movement I made, and the breathable air of my tiny prison seemed to be growing thinner by the minute. My throat was so dry that my weak screams only made it worse. My fight was futile. The rational part of my brain told me I needed to remain calm and conserve my energy. There would be a moment when he would open the box. And in that moment, I would strike. I would give it all that I had. Even if he killed me, I would make sure my fucking DNA was all over his fucking face.

  Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

  Wait. Wait. Wait.

  Oh shit… what if Pope had buried me alive? What if he was never coming back? What if this was where I would die? Is that why the air seemed thin? Was I buried alive?

  Just as complete hysteria almost set in, I heard a loud sound outside the box. It sounded like a storage door was being lifted. Maybe? Could it be possible I was in a box in a storage unit?

  A few moments later, someone was working on removing the top of my coffin. This was my chance. Fight or die. I swallowed back my fear the best I could and waited as rays of light entered my tomb as the lid was lifted. Now that the top was removed, I quickly glanced around and confirmed I was indeed tied with rope and trapped in a small wooden box. A crate similar to one you would use for transporting cargo. I was barefoot and still wearing my black sweats and white tank top from before this all happened. Squinting against the light, I saw an angel looking down upon me.

  “Viv!” I desperately said against my gag. It was Viv, and she was there to help me.

  She appeared so scared as she put her finger to her lips to signal my silence. Her eyes looked away from me and scanned the area as if she was waiting for Pope to arrive any minute. “Please be quiet,” she whispered. “Don’t let Pope hear you.”

  I did as she asked and didn’t scream even though I wanted to. Her obvious fear of her son only made my own horror increase in magnitude. I couldn’t figure out where we were. All I could see was what looked like a metal wall behind her.

  “I brought you some water,” she said as she revealed a plastic bottle in her shaky hand, “but you can’t say anything. Please, don’t say anything.” She paused and looked down on me with pleading eyes.

  I nodded, desperate for the water.

  She reached into my box and pulled the gag away from my mouth, and then she put the bottle to my lips. I gulped the water down in big swallows, emptying it halfway before she pulled it away. There was a weird aftertaste, but I didn’t mind since I couldn’t remember ever being so thirsty.

  “Viv, please,” I whispered. “Help me get out of here.”

  She shook her head as the look of terror intensified in her eyes. “I can’t. Not yet. You just have to be really quiet. He can’t hear you, or he will end it. You don’t want him to end it. I don’t want him to end it!” Tears filled her brown eyes, and her bottom lip quivered. “Please trust me. I will get you out of here and keep you safe. But you have to trust me and not make a single sound.”

  “Untie me! Find something to cut the ropes. There’s got to be something around that you can use.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Just look around and find s
omething sharp. Hurry before he comes.”

  Her fearful eyes turned to ones of sadness. “I can’t. You have to believe me. He won’t understand.”

  “Viv, hurry!”

  “I can’t.”

  “Don’t leave me in here. Untie me, and I will run as fast as I can. I won’t tell anyone. I promise! I won’t tell anyone about your son. He won’t get into trouble. I swear.” I would have told her anything, and I knew she was scared I would run to the authorities and have him arrested for kidnapping. I didn’t want her maternal instincts to protect her son preventing her from helping me escape. “We can all pretend this never happened. Please.”

  She put the plastic bottle to my lips again and assisted me in swallowing the last of the water. “We’ll be there soon. When we get there, I will get you out of this box. I swear to you.”

  “Where are we going? What are you talking about? Where am I? Please, Viv. Tell me where I am. What’s going on? What does he plan on doing with me? You have to help me. Please!”

  “Shh… He can’t hear you!” She hesitated and glanced around, appearing as if she was listening for any sound of Pope approaching. “You are in the back of a moving truck. You are hidden and safe. But we have to keep you hidden, so you can’t make a single noise. We stopped for a break, but the next stop will be when we get there. And when we do, Pope and the movers will be here to move the box. But we have to keep you hidden! It’s crucial or else. You have to stay quiet and remain perfectly still the next time the truck stops. You have to!”

  “Viv, I know he is your son, but you can’t allow him to do this to me. Please help me. I’m not asking you to call the police, but please help me out of here.”

  “I’m doing what’s best. I know him. I know what he will do if he finds out I’m talking to you right now. So, you have to be quiet. You have to!”

  A metallic taste coated the inside of my mouth and my head felt foggy. The water hadn’t alleviated the rawness of my throat, and if anything, had intensified it. My eyelids threatened to close as my body seemed to melt into the bottom of the box. I was unable to feel the restraints digging into my skin—I couldn’t feel much of anything any longer. I couldn’t lift my arms or even wiggle my fingers. “The water,” I mumbled. “What was in the water?” My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I struggled to keep my lids open.

  “It will help you sleep. So you will be comfortable for the rest of the drive. I know this box is small, and I don’t want you to panic. But I promise you, when we get there, I will make everything right. I will.”

  “Viv…”

  “Just don’t let him hear you. You have to trust me. I know my son. You can’t let him hear you.”

  She put the gag back around my mouth. I couldn’t resist even though my soul was screaming in desperation as darkness once again took over.

  6

  Waking up again was a repeat of the most horrid nightmare of when I’d awoken before. I was on a sick merry-go-round in the depths of hell. My hands were still tied, but my mouth was no longer gagged, and I was sitting up, strapped to a wooden chair. Lifting my head that rested limply on my chest, I took in my surroundings with blurry eyes. I was in a basement or wine cellar. There were boxes all around me, and to my right and left were shelves that housed dusty bottles of wine. The room was dark, dank, and there was a sharp chill in the air. In front of where I sat was a staircase leading to the floor above.

  Pulling against the straps that held me securely to the chair, I wasn’t surprised I couldn’t make them budge. Pope wasn’t going to lose his captive because of loose knots. He clearly was a pro at this. Taking a deep breath, I struggled with the battle going on inside of me. I was at war with the frightened little girl who wanted to scream for help. This little girl psyche was pleading and begging I do something—anything. But I remembered what Viv had said. How it was important for me to remain silent. She said she would help me. But I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs more than I wanted to even breathe.

  Where was Viv? Where was she?

  Where was Pope?

  Where was I?

  “Oh good. You are awake,” came Viv’s gentle voice behind me.

  I tried to turn to see her, but was unable to. All I could see were stacked boxes all around. “Viv? Hurry, untie me.”

  There was silence.

  I wiggled my fingers and toes and was pleased I still had feeling in them. I would at least be able to run once I was free.

  “Viv?” Why wasn’t she rushing to me to free me from my restraints? “We need to hurry.”

  Silence.

  “Viv!” I wiggled in my chair as if showing her that I was tied and couldn’t move would trigger her to take action. “You have to do something before Pope comes back down here. Please hurry.”

  “Now, Demi. The more you resist, the more those ropes are going to flaw your perfectly creamy skin.” I froze in place as a chill ran down my spine. The voice was Viv’s, yet it wasn’t Viv’s. She had a thick southern accent that seemed to ooze off her tongue. It reminded me of a southern belle attending charm school so she could win the local beauty pageant. “It’s important you take care of your skin, child. No man wants a woman with raw and red wrists and ankles. It simply isn’t ladylike. You must remember that.”

  The click of heels on the cold concrete floor came from behind until they circled around and stood before me. Viv Montgomery stood before me. The sweet little old lady whom I had fed in the diner because she wasn’t able to feed herself, stood before me. Yet, this person wasn’t Viv. This woman seemed different. It wasn’t just her thick southern accent that I had never known Viv to have, it was something more. This woman stood with a straight back. Her chin lifted with a sense of arrogance mixed with elegance. There was no shaking or even a tremble of a single body part. She was composed and exuded a sense of strength. She wore a wool, cream pencil skirt, a perfectly pressed ivory blouse, and her trademark tan pantyhose that I recognized. Yet this was not the frail, Asian lady who had Parkinson’s that I knew. This woman even appeared younger in age if that were possible, and definitely much healthier.

  “Viv?”

  The woman frowned. “Don’t ever call me by that. Vivian Montgomery is my name. I do so hate when people use nicknames. If your parents had intended for you to be called by your nickname, then they would have named you as such. I was not named ‘Viv,’ therefore, do not call me that.” She cleared her throat and clasped her hands neatly in front of her. “You may, however, call me Vivian. I usually require younger folk to call me Mrs. Montgomery, but since you will soon be family, I will allow you to call me Vivian. Once you are married to my son, we can then discuss the possibility of you calling me Momma.” She smiled as her eyes seemed to drift off in thought. “I’ve never had a daughter before, and I might quite enjoy it.”

  I sat dumbfounded. Who was this person? Why did she suddenly have an accent? What was she talking about? Marrying her son? Momma?

  “What’s going on? You said you would help me escape when we got here.” I looked around, still having no idea where ‘here’ even was.

  With a smile that reminded me of one the devil himself would have painted on his face, she said, “Correction, child. I told you I would make everything right. I never said I would help you escape.” She walked up to me and moved a piece of wayward hair that had fallen in front of my eyes and gently tucked it behind my ear. “And there is absolutely nothing to escape from.”

  My inner little girl who had been pounding on my chest in panic finally won. I started to cry and shake in fear. “Why are you talking like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “That accent.”

  “Accent?” She giggled. “Well, child, we do live in the South. And besides, if you ask me, it’s those Yankees who have the accent. Why are you asking such a funny question?”

  Had Viv been lying to me the entire time? Had she pretended to be sick to trap me? Was this some cruel game she and her son played with unsuspecting women
? Had I been fooled all this time, and now I was going to be murdered because of my naiveté?

  “I just want to go home,” I sobbed. “Please, I don’t want any trouble. Just let me go, and we can pretend none of this ever happened. I won’t say a single word to anyone. I promise.”

  Her eyes widened and her eyebrows rose. “Home? Child, this is your home. Your new home. Pope bought this house years ago to be used for vacation. As lovely as it is with all the trees and mountains surrounding us, it was simply too impractical to reside here full-time. Well, with Pope’s job and all. But now that he is retired, it really is the perfect place to live.” She began to pace a little as she spoke. “At first, it was too far removed for my tastes. No town nearby, and the only way to get supplies is via plane. But since Pope is a pilot and we have a plane, and even one of those fancy landing strips, I guess we are some of the lucky few in the world who can live out here by ourselves.”

  “Viv, listen—”

  “Vivian!” she snapped as she spun on her heels, her eyes shooting daggers at me. I flinched at the harshness, shocked to hear such venom come from a woman I once felt incapable of ever raising her voice. “You will call me Vivian. Do not make me tell you again.”

  I sniffed back my tears and struggled to regain composure. “I’m sorry. Vivian.”

  She smiled and softened her features again, yet she was still not the woman I had known before. “Now, as I was saying, child. Pope has worked hard all his life to provide for us. This house may not be in the ideal location for two women such as you and I who do sometimes partake in the social life, but we must see this as a wonderful opportunity. It will give you and me the chance to form a proper mother/daughter relationship, and allow you and Pope to take your time with your courtship. Young folk these days just don’t court like we used to in my time.”

  Bile formed in the back of my throat. My head spun as my heart thumped against my breastbone. “Where am I?” My voice cracked as I trembled harder than the woman ever had in the diner.