Don't Talk to Strangers

XXXIV

The first indication of someone else being in the room was the door handle making noise. It sounded extremely loud in the silence I'd been sitting in. Then I heard footsteps—thick, heavy footsteps—shuffling toward me. Then I heard the breathing. I wasn't sure if my ears had become more finely tuned from the quiet, or if it was just extraordinarily loud.

My own lungs froze up, refusing to suck in the oxygen around me. I felt my veins flood with fear and I shivered.

We sat in dead silence for ages. Then I heard a low, harsh laugh rise up from the man. It started very quietly, a small chuckle, but it quickly grew into a harsh, loud howling laughter. I cringed back into the chair.

When he finally stopped I felt him step closer and I saw the tips of his shoes in my lower vision. They were large black boots. Definitely steel-toed like I thought. He leaned closer to me and I felt a calloused hand caress my cheek. I shivered in disgust and tried to shrink away, but there was nowhere to go.

Small, breathy laughs returned and I smelled his rotten breath. He continued his silence and stroking my cheek. It made my stomach churn, especially the microscopic twinge of familiarity in the touch. Who the hell was this man? I flashed back to when Dan had first rescued me. He'd told me he would seem familiar because of the fact that he'd been stalking me for so long.

Still... something felt off.

All of my thoughts shattered as the man spoke. "Cassidy," he said quietly. I shuddered. "How long it's been. You've been kept away for too long."

His hand slid down my cheek to my jawline and I squeezed my eyes shut, stifling a wimper. He leaned closer to my face and I felt rough lips press against my forehead. I was disgusted. It was worse than I thought. He has an infatuation with me... Oh God help me. Of all the stories I'd heard of a stalker with an infatuation with the victim... nothing ended well for the victim.

"Oh, shhh," he shushed me as I started shaking. It was getting harder and harder stop myself from sobbing. "Don't cry. You're with me now. Everything's going to be alright."

I bit the inside of my lip to distract myself as he stroked my neck and reached my collarbone. It was when he started fingering the hem of my shirt that I let out a gasping sob. It was a split second of stillness before I saw a flash and his hand pulled back. Then I felt a stinging sensation in my face and I bit through my cheek.

He'd slapped me.

I choked for a few seconds, trying to catch my breath and regain my senses. Meanwhile the man had stepped back and I heard him pacing. A few tears leaked out and I couldn't help a sinking feeling. I'm not going to get out of here. It's all me. Nobody's here to save me now.

Then he lunged forward again and was unbearably close to me. He grabbed my face in his hands and turned it to face him, though I was still blindfolded. "Crying? You don't cry!" he snapped, digging his fingers into my face.

I swallowed. A strange sense of bravery overtook me and I spat back, "You don't know me."

The man released my face and slapped me again, leaving me with stars. We sat in silence for another minute before he roared, "You listen to your father!"

"My..." I couldn't stop myself from stuttering. "My... father?"