Chloe After Dark

Chapter 23

Chloe woke with a pounding head and a leaden stomach. She rolled over and tried to be sick, but her stomach was empty, and she could only retch repeatedly. There was a glass of water on a little table beside her, and she stretched out her hand for it but couldn't reach. She squinted her eyes and tried to look around. She wasn't tied up. Instead, she lay on a low camp bed in a huge, dark room that smelled vaguely of alcohol. She sat up suddenly, thinking she might be able to escape, but a strong hand from behind her pushed her back down onto the bed.
​"So, you're awake at last," said Darren, picking up the water and handing it to her. "Obviously, all your recent exertions have worn you out. You've made me wait a very long time to start our honeymoon."
​"Cut out all this honeymoon shit..."
He smacked her across the face, not too hard but enough to shut her up and make it clear he was in command. She said nothing more as he stood over her, staring down with his arms folded. He took increasingly loud breaths to indicate his impatience. Eventually, he said, "You see, you're still not talking to me. Oh, my darling, you have so much to learn. If we're going to be together, you must respond to everything I say and do everything I tell you. If you don't..." He left the sentence unfinished and walked away, leaving her alone. As he went, he said over his shoulder, "Feel free to look around. The toilet's over there, such as it is, and there's a sink just outside it. The cold tap works, so you can freshen up if you want to. I expect you'll spend a lot of time looking for a way to get out, but there isn't one, so don't bother. If I were you, I'd get some rest and prepare yourself for tonight."
​Darren disappeared into the shadows and Chloe jumped off the bed, escape her only thought. Her headache returned like a hammer, and she sat down to sip some more water, desperate to avoid retching again. She waited a while before making her way to the toilet, which had no seat and no door but was mercifully clean. Afterward, she splashed her hands and face with ice-cold water, the tap on the sink so old and rusty she could hardly turn it, and it squealed like an animal in pain when she managed to. Resisting the urge to pass out on the bed again, she wandered into the middle of the vast, empty space and looked around in the semi-darkness. She was in some kind of warehouse, clearly out of use and in a poor state of repair. Daylight streamed through a broken window high up near the roof. Wonder what the time is? He abducted me very late last night, and I must have been drugged for several hours, so I reckon it must be something like early afternoon...Then Chloe remembered she was still wearing her wristwatch and laughed out loud for a long time, the laughter releasing some of the tension of the nightmare situation in which she found herself. It was twenty to three, so her calculations had been accurate, and there was still plenty of time before nightfall. Darren had not specified what she should prepare for, but she had a pretty good idea.
​Wandering around the warehouse, she noticed the smell of alcohol was wafting from one corner, which contained a stack of empty metal beer barrels. They were lined up along some rickety-looking, high wooden shelves, thick cobwebs draped between them, indicating they had been there for a very long time. For a moment, she wondered if she was in the Distillery District, but quickly dismissed the idea. That was an upscale area, one of the city's top tourist attractions, with art centers and other cultural amenities, including expensive bars and restaurants. Chloe had been there once with Daniel, who had fallen in love with a painting and insisted they buy it, despite its inflated price tag. Chloe had been against the idea but had to admit it looked perfect on the wall at home. No, this place is completely out of character for the Distillery District. It belongs to somewhere like the Regent Park area-one of those places the Tourist Board advises people not to visit because it's too rough...She stopped suddenly, realizing this train of thought was a complete waste of time. She might as well have been in Guantanamo Bay or the Tower of London, for all the difference it made. She'd been kidnapped. She was a prisoner. End of story.
​Feeling sick with worry and full of despair, she wandered back to her bed, where she found a sandwich and a soft drink waiting for her. She decided to refuse them on principle but wasn't able to ignore them for long. She hadn't eaten anything since early the previous evening or drunk anything all night. She sat down on the bed and devoured them both hungrily, tipping her head back to get every drop of liquid out of the bottle. Afterward, she felt better and thought about sleeping again, but this seemed a waste of vital time. So, she got up and continued looking around. There were big double doors at the other end of the warehouse, but they were bolted and locked with new-looking padlocks-clearly Darren's doing. There was another small door to one side that offered some hope. It was riddled with woodworm and one panel was missing, but it was rusted solid and even more impossible to open than the double doors. Not that she struggled with the handle for very long, because a rat ran across her foot and disappeared into the darkness with a stomach-churning squeak. She ran back to the middle of the enormous room, where she was away from the vermin.
​"I thought I told you not to do this," Darren said, walking up to her with one finger raised. "You are such a disobedient girl..."
​"Fuck off, you cunt!"
The words had come unbidden from somewhere deep inside Chloe, her true feelings bursting out after being suppressed for so long. Darren's face went black with fury. She expected him to hit her or possibly kill her, but he just paced around her in silence for what seemed like an eternity. At last, he said, "Take your clothes off."
​"What?"
​"You heard me. Take your clothes off. All of them."
He smiled with delight as she peeled off her clothes, hesitating when she reached her underwear. He widened his eyes to nonverbally repeat his command, and she obeyed, standing in front of him naked. She wanted to look unafraid, but instinct made her cover herself with her hands. He continued to stand there looking at her, and Chloe felt herself beginning to shake. He's going to rape me. More than once, probably. Then, I expect, he'll kill me. But Darren suddenly turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her alone. She ran over to the bed and curled up, trying to keep warm. It was impossible, and she lay there shivering uncontrollably. She realized he was more interested in humiliating her at the moment, bending her to his will, knocking all the fight out of her so she became his slave. The rest would follow later.