Bound To You (The Grabber FanFiction)

The day Galesburg went silent

Albert

Today marked a significant occasion - the anniversary of George Dean's disappearance, a day etched in Galesburg's history when silence engulfed the town. Georgie, as some knew him, didn't just vanish; he perished. However, that was a secret only George and I would ever know.

Fear engulfed Galesburg; time seemed to freeze within it. The panic subsided; adults gave up trying to understand the terrors that haunted the very streets, and kids just prayed they weren't next. Fear took over the town and conquered it.

Gone were the days of children's birthday parties, bouncy castles on the front lawn, or playing in the streets till sunset, because if they weren't careful, they just might end up like George or the other handful of kids I took. I was beginning to lose count.

Frank Dean was like a golden retriever trapped in the body of a middle-aged man. A week ago, Frank invited me to a barbecue in his backyard. All our neighbors would be there, and if I knew anything about the Deans, then I might as well expect the entire town there too.

I managed a hardware store full-time; on the weekends, I worked extra hours because I had nothing else to come home to, except my brother crashing on my couch and my dog. I missed the days that I had Abigail to look forward to. I had her sweet young pussy to think about while I was doing inventory in the back room. I still daydreamed about her cunt. Just now I couldn't come home and use it.

Sometimes I convinced myself she wasn't even real. That she was some figment of my imagination. However, Frank Dean kept the memory of her fresh in my mind. He reminded me that she was real, but I knew that after my foolish behavior, she would be forever out of reach.

Frank was a retired cop; when Frank turned forty-three he got badly wounded, in which they deemed he was unfit for the job. Though you'd never know it. Because he was fit and clean-shaven. His brown hair was always groomed and slick with gel. Unlike me, he didn't have a single hair out of place. The Deans were a wealthy family, and the large trust fund Frank's father had left him. Alongside his pension was more than enough to suffice. At forty-five, he worked on mindless projects in his double car garage, just to keep hands working and his mind going. And to keep sane. The farther away from his wife, the better. I gathered a good picture of his wife through his stories. I read between the lines. And the image I got wasn't a good one.

One week prior—

I'd never label myself a sociopath, but if using an innocent man as a pawn could bring even a hint of satisfaction, I wouldn't hesitate. Over the past few months, I'd cultivated a friendship with Frank, solely for the rare instances when he'd mention his daughter, Abigail Dean. He had a tendencies with starting sentences with...

Well, my daughter...

Each snippet of information, each fragment of insight into her world, fueled my obsession. At one point, I convinced myself that letting her go was the right thing to do. I mean what business did a young woman in her twenties have with a man nearly twice her age? But now, that she was gone, my decision weighed heavily on my chest, I wished I had been more selfish. I wished I had held onto her tightly, refusing to let her slip away. I didn't need to kidnap her, or bound her. Abigail was the first person in my life who truly wanted to stay. How could I have been so blind?

Frank lingered in the shop, his departure dragging on longer than I'd hoped. I silently urged him to wrap up the conversation, which could have ended several times already.

"You know I appreciate you checking out the car the other night..." Frank's words trailed off.

I responded with a grunt, feigning interest. "How's it running?"