It's Complicated

Chapter 14: Travis Stanton

I hear a door open and close. It registers in my mind that I’m sitting up in a chair, but that’s about it. I tilt my head up and open my eyes. I’m in a dark room. I can barely see the walls on all sides of me. The back of my head is throbbing, and when I try to reach for it, I can’t move my arms. I realize that my hands are handcuffed behind the back of the chair, and my ankles are chained to the legs of the chair. Desperately, I try to pull them loose, but the chains are too tight.

“It’s no use,” a voice says from the corner of the room that is behind me. I try to turn my head around, but when I turn it ninety degrees, spots appear in my vision, and my head explodes in pain. I quickly turn my head back around, the quick movement making me a bit dizzy.

Seconds after I orient myself, a light flashes on and blinds me. I close my eyes tight. After a few seconds elapse, I slowly open my eyes to a squint. The light is coming from above me, shining straight down on me. I tilt my head down and press my eyes shut as the back of my head explodes in pain. My whole body tenses and I grip at the back of the chair, waiting for the pain to subside. A muffled groan escapes me before the pain starts to slowly disappear. As it fades to a dull throb, I relax and open my eyes again.

I jump when I see a man’s face right in front of mine. The chair knocks on the floor a little, and my head hurts again. It takes a second for the pain to go away. The man in front of me is thin in the face with wiry, black hair and green eyes. He is staring at me with interest. He doesn’t move from his spot right in front of me.

“Would you get out of my face?” I say, my voice hoarse. I try to clear my throat, but I just start coughing. I hear the man laugh a little.

“Make me,” he says. His voice is calm, but daring. I would make him move, but I’m still tied to the chair. I glare at him. He laughs again and backs up into the corner, grabbing a chair that was hidden in the shadows. He whips it around and sets it down in front of me, the back of the chair facing me. He puts one leg on each side of the chair and sits down, all the while looking at me with a slight smile on his face. We sit and stare at each other for a long time.

“So what now?” I say. He looks slightly startled, like he never expected me to ask it. I mean, I really didn’t even mean to ask it. It just sort of came out.

He hesitates, and then he says, “Well, I guess you figured out what this is all about. So now, we wait.”

“So, we are waiting for my parents to get home, notice I’m missing, and call the police?” I say, questioning how smart these people really are.

“No stupid. We left a note with what they need to do,” he says, talking to me as if I was six.

“You do realize my parents won’t be back for days, right?” I ask him condescendingly. Probably not the best way to say it, considering my life is basically in this guy’s hands. But, he is silent. He looks a bit shocked, and a bit annoyed. Oh joy. I got kidnapped by people who don’t know how to do research.

I sigh and ask, “So how much are you guys holding me for?” The man again looks shocked that I’d asked such a question. He doesn’t say anything for a good minute.

“Ten million dollars,” he says finally.

“Great,” I mumble to myself. While my parents make good money, it isn’t that much. A lot of their pay goes towards up-keep of the house. “Can I at least get up? I can’t feel my hands or feet,” I ask. It’s a complete lie, but I really just want to stand up. Again, he gets the shocked look. “Oh, would you please stop being shocked by everything I say? It’s slightly annoying.” I almost expect him to get the same look on his face again, but instead, he presses his lips into a thin line and stands up.

“I’ll be right back,” he says slowly. “Don’t go anywhere.” I laugh.

“Like I have a choice,” I say as he places his hand on the door handle. He stops for a second, and then proceeds to walk out the door and carefully close it behind him. I hear the door lock behind him.

I glance around the room. The door the man just walked out of is the only way in or out of the room. The rest of the room is made of dirty concrete. There is an old, disgusting bucket in the corner of the room (if I had to guess, I would say it's probably for bathroom purposes), and nothing else. I wonder how many other people have been stuck in my same predicament in this very room. I also wonder how I’m supposed to go to the “bathroom” when I’m chained to a chair.

I gently rock my head back and forth, testing to see how it feels. The sudden pains are gone, replaced by a constant ache. I lick my cracked lips, tasting a little blood. I should ask for water when he comes back, but I don’t want to push the envelope.

I let my mind wander, and it goes right to Kacey. I can’t figure out why she would keep such a huge secret from me. And how I couldn’t see it. Thinking back, it all makes sense. Why she was always leaving to go somewhere. All of the mysterious cuts and bruises. How she could move so quickly and efficiently.

I shake my head. I have to stop thinking about Kacey. We’re friends now. Nothing more. No matter how badly I want to still be more, she obviously doesn’t. The memory of her lips on my cheek flashes through my mind. We are only friends, right? Isn’t that what she wanted?

I drum my fingers against each other behind my back. Maybe if I distract myself, the time will go by faster. But I don’t stay distracted for long. I just don’t know why Kacey would hide this from me. Did she not trust me? Did she think I would leave her? Was she afraid I would tell someone? But as I think about it, and I feel the handcuffs keeping my hands behind my back dig into my wrists, it makes sense. She was trying to keep me from things like this. And that is probably why she broke up with me.

The door clicks and opens as the man walks back in. I see he is carrying a little metal key. He walks behind me wordlessly and bends down. Seconds later, there is a click and the pressure of the handcuffs is off of my wrists. I whip my hands around and massage my sore wrists as he unlocks my feet. He stands back up and leans on the opposite wall, crossing his arms in front of him.

I force myself to my feet, my legs wobbling beneath my weight. Yet, I make myself stay standing. I hold myself as high as I can and slowly walk around a little. My legs almost give out on me, but I stay standing. After a few minutes of walking around, I collapse into the chair, feeling as if I had just run a mile. That hit to the head must have given me a bad concussion for me to be in this bad of shape. When I glance over at the man, I think I see the slightest smile on his lips. But, it's gone before I think I see it. He moves off of the wall and walks towards the door.

“You can stay free from the chair as long as you don’t cause any trouble,” he says, facing the door.

“Thank you,” I say as he walks out. He stops momentarily, and then keeps walking, without saying a word.

~ ~ ~

“So, what’s your name?” I ask the man. He has come back every hour, and this is about his fifth or sixth time checking on me. I find myself actually liking him. He’s not near as mean as I would expect someone who kidnapped me to be. He is surprisingly nicer than I had originally thought he was. I enjoy talking with him. It gives me something to do besides sit and stare at the wall.

He doesn’t answer my question. He only stares at me. “What should I call you?” I rephrase my question. He nods his head slowly, and then thinks about it.

“You can call me Carson,” he says. He smiles, but it’s not really directed at me. I would expect that his name isn’t really Carson. It’s just a name for me to call him.

“Alright,” I say. “Carson."