Stockholm Syndrome

18: Drugs

18: Drugs

Luke grabbed me when I raced away from him. It was two weeks since the incident and he was finally weening me off of the pills he had been keeping me in order with. Today was the first day I was feeling slightly normal.

 There was little I could remember from the past two weeks because he had kept me heavily sedated. But I remembered enough to want to run when I woke up on the couch. I had bolted but not quickly enough. Now Luke's large hand was wrapped around the upper part of my arm. He pulled me into him, my body molding into his. He pressed his lips to my neck. Not in a sexual way but in a way that made it a point that I needed to listen to him.

"I liked the way you were behaving the past few weeks." He murmured. I stabbed my heel into his foot. I knew it wouldn't work but I needed the satisfaction of hearing him groan in pain. He did but his grip on my arm only tightened. It was worth it.

"I was drugged." I hissed at him. I stomped on the other foot. A heavy exhale came from him. I shuddered when his warm breath hit my neck. He was about to speak when I kicked right below his knee. He growled but ignored it as I kept kicking him.

"Do you remember much of last week?" He asked.

"Enough to know to run away from you." I pointed out angrily. I stabbed at his stomach with my free elbow. After that it was no longer free. He held my arm the same way he held my left arm.

"I expect you to answer me the correct way."

"Sorry for the disappointment." I huffed. He sighed. I gave in. "Everything was blurry the past two weeks but I remember most of it."

"Good girl." He whispered. I wasn't sure if he said the next sentence to me, himself, or both. "I need to go grab another pill."

"No!" It wasn't supposed to come out as a scream. But it did. "Please, no! I'll behave. I won't run. Just no more drugs." I was exhausted from all the medication. He let me melt out of his grip and I sat down on the couch. He stared at me, towering right above me and giving me no leg space. "I promise." I whimpered holding eye contact with him. He looked down at me as my eyes watered. "No more." I pleaded. He nodded.

"You have to behave." He warned. Looking away for a moment. I nodded. "I've trusted you before. Things didn't go too well. Don't let that happen again."

"I trusted people before this." He sat on a chair across the couch, looking back at me again. "I don't think I'll be doing that any time soon when I get out of here."

"When you get out of here?" He echoed. I glared at him.

"I'm getting out."

"That's really encouraging me not to walk into the kitchen to grab another pill." He threatened. I looked down in submission. "You know how easy that would be for me?" I knew he was about to go into something about how I should be grateful he's choosing to let me have my way. But I stopped him. That was not something I was interested in hearing.

"If you had wanted easy you wouldn't have kidnapped someone."

"Valid point."