"You are mine baby doll and no one can take you away from me."
I saw her after her dance class. She looked exhausted and tired. And innocent. Oh so innocent. She had to be mine. She must be mine.
****
Stephen Ripper gets what he wants and if he doe...
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Favorite TV show? ***
When I heard my name come from his lips butterflies erupted in my stomach. But then I remembered that I never told him my name. I squirm, trying to get out of his grasp, but it's no use. Panic floods my body but there isn't anything I could do.
The familiar feeling of helplessness comes back and I carefully look at him.
"What do you know about me?" I say quietly.
He makes eye contact with me, and he looks like he is debated whether or whether not to tell me. After a few seconds and he sighs.
"You are eighteen, your parents are dead, you dance ballet, you love music," he shrugs his shoulders while laying down, still holding me.
How did-? What? He shouldn't know those things. I don't even know his name for crying out loud.
"How do you know those things? They might not even be true," I say, but they were true. I was eighteen, my parents were dead, I danced ballet, and I loved listening to music.
"You kidnapped me only yesterday and I don't even know anything about you," my voice quivers, "I don't even know your name," I continue.
His grip on me tightens.
"You're scared of me," he mutters tiredly.
I don't respond. I am scared of him. If I wasn't, I'd be out of my mind. He kidnapped, and hurt me. He took me from my home and from my friends. What if I'm never able to go to college because of him. I had dreams, aspirations and now they are all crushed because of his selfish butt.
If he liked me, he could have just talked to me. I wasn't going to lie, he was very attractive and I probably would have said yes if he asked me out on a date, but no.
"You kidnapped me like some weird sick, pervert. Of course I'm scared," I say, still looking at him. I see him clench his jaw. What I said was true, but maybe I shouldn't have said it. Fear creeps into me again.
"You will respect me and eventually not fear me," he growls.
I squirm to get out of his grip again, but I kept failing.
"You know I could make you a lot less, comfortable, here," he says keeping his arm firm around my waist. He sits us up and maneuvers us so quickly that I wasn't even sure what was happening. Next thing I know, my legs are around his waist and his face is next to mine.
"You earn respect. You instill fear." I whisper, still trying to get away.
He looks taken aback by my words and almost ashamed. My hands form small fists and bang on his chest, trying to get away from him. He sighs, unaffected by my efforts to get out of his grip. He looks at me tiredly and then sets me down on the spot next to him.
I immediately scurry to opposite side of the couch, too scared to do anything else. My legs won't move. I'm paralyzed with fear of what he'll do next.
"What do you want to know?" he asked, looking at me.
"What?" I furrow my eyebrows, bringing my knees to my chest and hugging them.
"What do you want to know about me?" he says.
"Oh," My mind goes a million miles per minute wondering what to ask him. I debated on asking him if he would ever let me go, but I feel like I already know the answer to that. I also ponder on asking him what he does for a living. If he makes that much money, he has to have white collar job.
But I settle on my question.
"What's your name?" I peak up at him.
"The name is Stephen baby doll, Stephen Ripper."
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