But here, with his love, he could play out his wildest fantasies. Here, he could service and please and pamper. Of course, it didn’t always work the way he imagined it. Some didn’t appreciate his efforts. Some even rejected his generosity. He was willing to allow rebellion initially, even put up with the early arguments and tantrums that came with new relationships. But ultimately, he expected this behavior to subside. Once his intentions were made clear, he wanted acceptance. He wanted gratitude. He wanted submission. More than anything, though, he wanted reciprocation. Sadly, for a few, this never transpired. And when his efforts were exhausted and he saw no hope on the horizon, he knew the end of the affair was near.
There was guilt when things culminated this way. Sadness when a relationship ended. He felt genuine remorse when he could not make things work. Regret, because he understood the finality of failure. After an unsuccessful relationship he allowed himself to bathe in those emotions. He gave himself that much—the opportunity to grieve. But then, like spring tulips, someone else caught his eye and those feelings of want and desire budded inside him, eventually blossoming into something new and hopeful. A fresh relationship was out there and waiting. He just needed to find the right person.
He stood from his car and adjusted himself. He walked inside with a frozen Stouffer’s dinner, locking the door behind him. He listened for a moment, to make sure nothing was out of order. Then he walked to the cellar door, slid the lock, and clicked on his flashlight. He opened the door, which scraped against the wooden floor, and stared at the bare wooden stairs as a feeling of ecstasy burned in his loins. He started down the steps to his prize, who he knew would be waiting, shackled to her bed like a good and wanting servant. He had left a bucket and sponge for her to bathe, hoping tonight might be special.
“I’m back, my Love,” he said as he took his first step down the rickety cellar stairs, his insides exploding with eagerness and lust. “I’m back.”
SUMMER 2016
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
—Casey Delevan
CHAPTER 13
July 2016
Four Weeks Before the Abduction
Nicole Cutty pulled her car into the deserted parking lot behind a Walmart and turned off the engine. Across the street was a bar whose lot was still spotted with cars. She removed a joint from her purse and put the flame of her lighter to the end of it, listening as the tip crackled. Jessica and Rachel didn’t like to smoke, so Nicole felt obligated to sneak her pot sessions in late at night. She had tried once to get them to smoke out by Rachel’s pool one Friday afternoon, but Rachel threw a fit that her mom would smell it. Nicole loved her friends, but part of her couldn’t wait to get away next year.
As people came and went from the tavern across the street, their headlights glared through Nicole’s windshield. She wanted to feel alone and isolated, so she took her joint, climbed from her car, and walked to the park half a block away. It was just past eleven p.m. and her parents had no idea she had snuck out of the house. The yellow halogen lights had died an hour earlier and the park slithered with shadows from the streetlights twenty yards away. Nicole walked deep enough into the park so that she was comfortably within the penumbra of a row of maples that separated the playground from the road. The swing provided a nice cadence as she rocked back and forth and enjoyed the effects of the marijuana. The night before, she was skinny-dipping at Matt’s party, and as she inhaled deeply now she relished that moment in her mind when all the guys stared at her and the other girls were invisible.
It took twenty minutes to finish her joint. She closed her eyes and swung for twenty more. Full swings like she was ten years old—knees cocked back and then flung forward to increase momentum, fists gripping the chains. She stared up at the night sky dotted with stars that blurred together. Finally, Nicole stopped kicking and let the swing slowly ease until she returned to a smooth rhythm where her feet dangled lazily, her toes barely touching the ground.
She heard a whistle that startled her. It came again.
“Roxie!”
It was a man’s voice.
Nicole checked the ground to make sure she’d snubbed out the end of her joint.
“Roxie!”
From the shadows, a man emerged holding a leash.
“Come here, Roxie.”
The man noticed Nicole on the swing and came over.
“Excuse me. Did you see a dog run through here? A little Jack Russell terrier?”
Nicole shook her head. “No, sorry.”
“You been in the park long?”
“Half hour, maybe.”
The man stood and turned in a circle as he surveyed the dark playground. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken her off the leash.”
Nicole stood from the swing, dizzy. The swaying had magnified the effects of the cannabis. She righted herself after a second. Felt good. “Roxie is her name?”
“Yeah,” the man said. He pulled out his phone. “Here’s a picture. Have you seen her before?”
Nicole moved closer to look at the man’s phone, which glowed like a flashlight in the dark night. Her eyes narrowed and her lips separated when she looked at the photo. She stuttered her words until they finally formed.
“That’s my cousin. Julie.”
“It is?” the man said. “That’s a shame. She’s missing, too. And she’s never coming home.”
Before Nicole could react, a burlap bag came down over her head. Her muscles flexed and tensed, but the element of surprise was too great to overcome. Hands groped her and pulled her until she was shoved into the backseat of a car. She felt the momentum pull her into the seat as the car lurched from the parking lot and sped away.
The ride was twenty minutes, during which her hands were duct-taped behind her back and the burlap sack secured over her head. She cried and pleaded but got no response from the man who’d taken her. She knew there were others in the car.
“Why do you have that picture of my cousin?”
She heard the roll of duct tape unpeel. Then two hands reached inside the burlap and sealed the tape across her mouth. She bucked in the backseat, only to be subdued roughly by the man next to her.
Nicole finally gave in. Stopped moaning and fighting and kicking. She lay still under the weight of the stranger until the car ride ended and they lifted her from the backseat and dragged her through the woods. Nicole could feel the moss and sticks and leaves as they pulled her along, her feet barely working. She thought she felt train tracks under her shoes. Down a steep slope, eventually the rattle of a metal lock filled her ears, and then a door squeaked open. She was dragged through an entryway and forced to her knees, with the man behind her. She closed her eyes despite the burlap sack over her head. His mouth was by her ear and his breath penetrated the sack.
“How do you like it? Same as your cousin? What was her name? Julie?”
His hand slid along her waist and over her abdomen, then up to her chest, where he grabbed her breast and moaned into her ear.
Nicole tried to scream through the tape as she bucked wildly away from his grasp. The man released his grip and pushed her forward. She fell face-first to the cold ground, hands behind her back and unable to break her fall. The burlap was yanked from her head.