If only I knew where Drew was, He could have been anywhere. I was sure he was in the air somewhere. I just wasn’t sure where. Was he an hour away, two, four, six? I had no clue. Why the hell hadn’t I asked more questions last night? Oh, yeah, because my brain was overloaded and I couldn’t think straight. I still couldn’t think straight. What was I going to do when he got there?
I sat in the same spot for an hour and forty minutes with my thoughts a scrambled mess. I went from one memory to another. There were so many of them. It’s the weirdest thing in the world to not know who you are or remember things that happened to you. It’s even weirder to have them all come surging back like a lightning strike. I finally got up, taking my pistol with me.
I walked toward the north corridor and knew exactly why I had avoided that side of the mansion. I wouldn’t even do my therapy in that room. I didn’t know why at the time. I just knew that I couldn’t go in there.
I opened the steel door to the still empty gym and looked straight across the room at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t know who I was looking at. It was like looking into the eyes of a ghost without a soul. I was empty.
I looked over to the padded bench, and the memories once again flooded my awareness. I felt everything Drew had done to me in that room. I felt the shame, the humiliation, the hurt and the neglect when the steel door would close, and I would be left alone in silence for days.
I dropped to my knees and sobbed. I cried for the little girl who lived in poverty. I cried for the girl whose little brother was ripped from her arms. I cried for the girl whose mother deserted her. I cried for the girl whose father sold her to a monster. I cried for Starlight and Lauren. I cried for the only man who had ever truly loved me, and I cried for the girl that was having a hard time believing that Drew was capable of what he had done.
“Morgan,” I heard Drew, quietly say from behind me.
I didn’t move. I stayed on my knees and kept my hands on my lap, covering the gun.
“Do you think it’s still Stockholm syndrome when you fall in love with the Drew that you didn’t know?” I asked.
“Morgan, please give me time to explain,” he pleaded.
I saw him step toward me through the mirror. I spun around and came to my feet. I pointed the gun right at his head.
“Explain what, Drew? Explain how I remember every last thing that you ever did to me? Explain how you used me for your own personal toy or would you like to explain why you used me for your own personal punching bag?” The tears were falling. I knew they were, but I was too shook up to control them. I couldn’t hold my husband at gunpoint and think about that too.
“Morgan. Put the God damn gun down and talk to me,” he yelled in the tone that I remember scaring the hell out of me at one time. The thing was, it didn’t scare me anymore. It pissed me off.
“Back up!” I yelled. I wasn’t intimidated by his over aggressive demeanor anymore. I was Charlie’s Angels, Cagney and Lacey, GI Jane, okay, so I watched a lot of television. It was all that I had to do when I was a prisoner in this house.
“Morgan, it doesn’t have to be this way. Haven’t I let you come and go as you please?”
That pissed me off even more. “You let me? Fuck you! I don’t need you to let me do shit.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. Please, put the gun down. Where is Derik?”
I knew he had sent him to settle me down.
“Don’t underestimate me. I shot him.” Well, I did.
It just barely scraped his arm, but I did shoot him.
“Morgan, I am so sorry. Please let me tell you the whole story. I love you.”
“Back up!” I yelled again, when he tried to walk toward me. He took a step back, and I told him to keep going until he was in the far side of the room. I walked toward the door with the gun pointed right at his forehead.
I barely got the steel door locked when he crashed into it. I jumped, but knew he wasn’t getting out of that room until I let him out. I slid down the door, sinking to the floor. I just knew that my heart was going to beat right out of my chest and be lying on the floor in front of me at any second. I thought I was having an adrenaline rush before, but this was ridiculous.
I walked back to Drew’s office and logged onto his computer. I remembered the first password with ease, but when I clicked the icon for the cameras, I had to try three different ones, but finally got it. I clicked on the gym camera and just like magic. There he was. He had removed his jacket and tie, and was pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his too long hair. I told him a week ago that he needed a haircut.
Okay, I could see and hear him. How did I make him hear me? Was there a button somewhere? Where was the microphone? I looked around the desk for something to make him hear me. I couldn’t find anything. I knew there was a way. He had talked to me when I was locked in there. No, he didn’t talk to me. He made me preform for him. I should make the bastard take all of his clothes off and do the same to him. I saw the little microphone in the corner of the screen and clicked it.
“Hello,” well, that sounded stupid. I watched him look right into the camera.
“Morgan, open the door. You’re not thinking straight.”