For a group of men that very fact was appealing. She was female and she was their prisoner. She had no rights. No choice to leave them. She was theirs. And that’s what bothered Riley.
The oldest of the men, at 25 years old, Riley wanted her. Not sexually so much, but … he hated to admit it, emotionally. And, although not old enough to be her father in years, emotionally he felt twice his age. And therefore, old enough to be her father.
Riley had dated before. Had had a few relationships, but nothing that could have been considered serious. There were too many variables, to many unknowns in relationships to make it worth the emotional effort. He saw what Angus’ relationship with Beth had done to him. He could hardly consider his parents’ relationship as a model of what he strove for. They had stayed together until the end, but it was not clear to Riley whether they had truly loved on another.
Riley shook his head. His parents had to have loved one another. His father always watched out for his mother’s best interests. Making sure she didn’t step out of line, behaved herself. And he still remembered the grumbling his father did about Jimmy’s sister and the ways Jimmy’s father was handling her. His father had made it clear that she was being given too much leeway, not being put in her place. And then she’d killed herself, so Riley supposed his father had been right.
From that time on, it had seemed easier to deal with dogs. Dogs obeyed. Even the most difficult ones did eventually. They rarely tried to exert free will. So why couldn’t females do the same thing? Every woman he’d had contact with had some level of free will, but when tamed they eventually fell in line. Except, it seemed, Jessica.
Riley slid his eyes over to watch her hanging, stoic expression on her face, in the corner. He used to want to break her so that it could be a strike against his enemies. So he could feel the pleasure of victory. But now he wanted to make her conform to the role of a potential mate. He still felt too old for her. Right now. But in a few years … she’d be good for him and the men. But how to get there? Everything he’d thought of so far had failed.
“Riley!” Jimmy’s voice was behind his door, accompanied by an urgent knock. “Open up!”
“What is it?” Riley asked, instinctively reaching for the handgun tucked in the waist of his pants at the small of his back. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as the possibilities ran through his mind. Were the cops here? Was what he dreaded the most finally going to happen? Relief flooded over him when he saw that Jim did not have his gun.
“We’ve had contact … you and Angus need to go meet the others. Something has happened.”
“Now?” Riley asked, poking his head into the hall and looking for Angus, or any of the other men who could offer an explanation. But the hallway was empty.
“Yes.” Jim replied. “I won the draw. I’ll take Jessica to my room.”
“Right, okay.” Riley said moving back to allow Jimmy to enter.
Jim stifled a curse. What the hell was Riley doing, hanging Jessica back on a hook? Had he intended to leave her there all night? By then, her arms would fall off, Christ!
Jim lifted her off the hook, and then took her hands in his. They were ice cold, and blue. For a moment he thought he saw a flicker of relief behind Jessica’s mask of defiance, but then it was gone and she went back to pretending he wasn’t there and that hanging by her arms for 12 hours was nothing more than a day at the beach. For a girl, she had a lot of balls.
“Angus is waiting in the car,” Jim continued as he led Jessica from Riley’s room. Funny that she wasn’t resisting that too much.
“Got it,” Riley said, following them into the hall. “See yah.”
“Later … good luck,” Jim said.
In his room he stood facing Jessica.
“Bed or floor?” he asked, as he always did when he had his night with her.
Jessica nodded at the floor, as she always did.
Jim sighed. She never took the easy way out.
He pulled her to a spot on the floor next to his bed. Pulling the cuff keys, he undid her hands, looped the cuffs through the hook on his bedpost, and re-cuffed her. He caught her hands as she started to pull them away, and inspected them again.
“They’re going to hurt like hell when the blood comes back,” he said. She stared at him, attempting to shoot darts of defiance at him with her eyes. “I can rub them for you, help bring the circulation back faster. All you have to do is ask.”
Jessica’s expression didn’t change.
“Suit yourself.” He replied and let her hands drop.
He sat on his bed and debated what to do. He’d planned on playing his guitar tonight. He tried to play whenever he didn’t have her with him. On his usual nights with her, he would spend the time having a staring contest with her. The challenge was to see who would look away first. They were equally matched for the contest and usually by the time he was too tired to keep it up it’d been hours before either one looked away.
One thing he knew for sure, Jessica was determined. That determination caused him some concern when he had her in his room for the night. Though she was chained and could not conceivably do anything of harm to him … he couldn’t relax enough to do anything but hold the staring contest with her.
Often a one way conversation accompanied the contest and he found himself blabbing to her about things that he didn’t talk to anyone about, and she most assuredly cared little about, in hopes of getting some response from her. But he rarely got one, just a determined, angry stare.
Well. Tonight her arms were like rubber, and in a matter of minutes she would be in indescribable pain as the blood made its way back to her extremities. There was little she could do to him tonight, even if she weren’t chained. He went to his closet and retrieved his guitar. When he turned back, Jessica was staring off into a corner of his room. He sat on his bed and began to play.
Jessica leaned her head against the wall and sighed in relief. Thank God she was going to spend the night here instead of Riley’s room. Of all the men, Jimmy was the easiest to tolerate. He rarely bothered with her when they were alone.
She gritted her teeth. Her arms began to tingle. This was going to hurt. It wasn’t the first time she had to endure this pain, but at least Jimmy would leave her alone, not needle her with verbal abuse, or find some way to make the pain worse. All she had to do was concentrate on the corner of his bedroom and clear her mind, and this could be an okay night.
But suddenly, she heard a sound that she hadn’t heard in what seemed an eternity. Without thinking, she looked over at Jim. He sat on his bed, rocking back and forth, watching his fingers move back on forth on the neck of his guitar. Music! She could hardly believe it.
For a moment she forgot where she was, forgot the pain that was building in her arms. She knew how to make those sounds too, she had played the guitar with a passion at home. She even recognized the song.
A noise broke through Jim’s concentration, and it brought him back to reality. He’d forgotten that Jessica was in the room with him. He looked over at her and she was looking at him. She was looking at him and kind of smiling.
Jim stopped playing. Smiling? Yes, she was smiling, and swaying slightly, and there was that noise again. It was low but definitely coming from Jessica. Jim leaned closer. She was humming. He recognized the tune that he’d been playing. Suddenly Jessica realized what she’d been doing and jumped as if she’d been slapped. She sat staring at him, and he stared at her. Jessica’s gaze slid down to Jim’s guitar, and he followed it.
“Do you … you know the song?” Jim asked.
Jessica nodded, still staring at his guitar.
“Do you want me to keep playing?”
Jessica nodded again.
Jim couldn’t believe it. All of these months of getting nowhere, and it turns out that his biggest passion could get a positive response from Jessica?
Without hesitation, Jim began playing again. Jessica closed her eyes and swayed. Jim could tell by some of the contortions on her face that her arms were killing her, but Jessica never stopped her swaying. Jim played song after song, and Jessica swayed. He was able to tell exactly when her pain subsided, because her facial contortions were replaced by a look of serenity.
That was something he had never seen before. It wasn’t until Jessica fell gently against the bedpost, asleep, that Jim stopped playing. He looked at the clock. Two hours. He had played, and she had swayed, for two hours.
He put his guitar away, turned out the light, and lay back on his bed. Despite how tired he was, excitement coursed through him. For the first time since Jessica had come here, Jim felt hope. Hope that things were going to get better. The constant tension and hatred emanating around them all of the time was beginning to wear on him. He lay thinking of ways to use the music to his advantage. To use it to broker a truce of some kind. He drifted off to sleep with the sweet image of Jessica singing, and laughing. No traces of hatred left on her face.
The next morning Jim stretched, yawned, and rolled to the side of the bed that Jessica was cuffed to. He found her already awake and staring at the ceiling.
His standard greeting of “Morning,” was met with Jessica’s standard silence. He sat up. “How’re your arms?”
Jessica continued to stare at the ceiling.
“Jessica,” Jim said, “Hey, Jessica,” he said snapping his fingers in her line of sight.
Jessica slowly swung her eyes onto Jim. Gone was the dreamy look she’d had the night before.
“My name, “ she said through clenched teeth, “is Lisa.”
Jim sighed and slid onto the floor. He crouched before her.
“Look, I know that. I know your name is Lisa, you know your name is Lisa, Riley, Angus, Josh and Scott know your name is Lisa. But that doesn’t mean anything. We’re calling you Jessica. This has been going on forever and getting you nowhere. Why don’t you do us all a favor and just pretend that your name is Jessica. It’s really not that hard.”
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