Chapter Twelve
"Walter?" He opened his eyes to see Paige smiling up at him as her body was
still under his.
Damn, he must be crushing her. He started to roll off, but she stopped him
by placing her hands on either side of his face and kissing him.
"Paige. . ." He didn't know what to say to her. He didn't think thanking
her would be appropriate, but it was how he felt. He didn't think he could
thank her enough.
He attempted to move off of her again, and this time she let him. Instinctively
he drew her into his arms, kissing the top of her head as she rested it against
his chest.
After a while, she began playing with the strip of hair between his pectoral
muscles. "I always thought you'd be hairier."
"What? Why?" Walter was genuinely confused.
"I don't know, I just did."
"Are you disappointed?" He knew as soon as the words left his mouth he wasn't
only asking about the amount of hair on his chest.
"No, everything's perfect." She kissed him on the nose, easing his anxiety.
"Just perfect." She snuggled closer, pulling the blanket over them.
"We should probably get dressed before they decide to come back," he suggested.
Because if they didn't, he was going to want her again soon. Very soon.
"Oh, God, I almost forgot we. . ." Paige sounded like she swallowed a sob.
Neither of them moved for moment before reluctantly gathering up their scattered
clothing.
After they were clothed once more, they stretched out on the mattress, putting
their arms around each other. He relaxed then, eventually drifting off to
sleep, with her wrapped in his embrace.
Paige jerked awake at the sound of footsteps in the hallway. She glanced
worriedly at Walter, who looked like he had just woke up as well. They scrambled
into sitting positions, hoping to keep up the pretense they were still zip-tied.
The key turned in the lock, then three of their captors entered the room,
two of them carrying trays, the third had a rifle against her shoulder, aimed
in their direction.
Food was placed on their laps, an assortment of pre-packaged items, pudding
cups, sandwich halves wrapped in plastic, bottles of water. There were no
utensils.
"How are we supposed to eat this?" Paige asked.
The woman, the same one from before, looked at the other two people and jerked
her head toward the door. They obeyed, leaving the room in silence, taking
the trays with them. She took several steps back and glanced up and down
the hallway.
"We know you're untied." she said as she lowered her weapon and walked to
the end of the mattress. "You're being monitored." She lifted her chin upward
at the light bulb. "It's a hidden camera. No sound, just pictures. They don't
care if you're not restrained. They're hoping you'll provide more entertainment."
She then pivoted on her heel and strode out of the room, closing the door
then turning the key in the lock behind her.
Oh God. Paige, who had been so hungry a few moments earlier, now gagged
at the thought of a bunch of perverts watching what had been one of the most
beautiful experiences of her life. And oh no. . .Walter. . . If she was sick
with embarrassment, what he was feeling? She turned to look at him. The expression
on his face was unreadable. His hands had formed into tight fists.
He had no reason for shame. He had been so wonderful. But she doubted he
would see it that way.
"Walter?" He didn't even flinch, and she was worried he had retreated into
his own private hell. She had to get through to him before he shut down completely.
"Walter, please. Don't be upset. It's horrible, I know but. . ."
"It was not horrible." Paige sighed with relief as he finally spoke. "It
was beyond anything I have ever imagined," he said through clenched teeth.
"But. . .they saw you, they saw you. . .with me. . .they saw your. . . Without
warning, he shot to his feet, the food spilling onto the floor. She watched
as he jumped up, grasping the bulb with both hands.
"Walter, no." Paige got up onto her knees. "Don't. . ." He yanked it out,
sparks flying as the room darkened, leaving dangling wires hanging from the
hole. Walter landed awkwardly, dropping the light bulb which shattered when
it hit the floor.
And as Paige had feared, the door flew open, and two men rushed at Walter,
trying to grab his arms. He resisted their attempts, landing a few punches
as they struggled. "You sick bastards," he shouted at them. A third man entered
the room as they managed to get Walter under control. He walked right up
to the now subdued genius and hit him in the stomach.
"Tie them up, use the cord this time, and clean up that mess," he ordered,
pointing at debris on the floor. "Take away the food and water," he said
as a fourth person, same woman who had told them about the camera, came into
the room.
Walter had been doubled-over by the unexpected blow and Paige thought he
was going to be sick. She gasped as the man, who must be the leader, grasped
Walter by the hair, forcing him to look at his face. "Another stunt like
that and we will kill you now." He smirked, leaning in closer. "But slowly,
and while you watch us have some fun with your slut first. Then we'll kill
her so you can watch her die."
He let go of Walter's hair before straightening up. "Is that what you want?"
Walter shook his head. "Well, is it?" The man punctuated his question with
another strike to his mid-section.
"NO!" The word flew from Walter's mouth as he landed in a heap on the floor.
"Good." The man glanced at the others. "Make sure they stay tied up this
time." He then quit the room.
Paige fretted as she submitted to being restrained once more, hands behind
her back and ankles tightly lashed. They had tossed Walter onto the mattress,
where they bound him as well. All the fight seemed to have been drained from
him. She wasn't even sure he was conscious.
After they had propped Walter up next to her, the men left the room. The
woman, now holding the food and water they hadn't had a chance to eat or
drink, gave her a sympathetic look before she departed as well. The key twisted
in the lock once again, leaving them in total darkness except for a few slivers
of light escaping from around the door. It took a minute or two for her eyes
to adjust.
Walter groaned and she immediately shifted closer, wishing her hands were
free so she could check him for injuries. "Are you okay, Walter?"
"Fine," he said, his voice filled with pain. "Maybe a bruised rib. I'll be
okay." He struggled to sit up straighter, grimacing with each movement. He
turned to look at her. "I'm sorry, Paige. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have
done that."
He glanced up at the ceiling, to the gaping hole and dangling wires above
them. "I'm sorry," he said again. "Couldn't stand the thought of them. .
.watching. . .seeing you. . . I'm sorry I've made it worse."
"We'll be okay," she said, trying to sound cheerful, but falling dreadfully
short. "We're still alive."
"For now," he replied. "Until they change their minds and decide I'm more
trouble than I'm worth to them." He stared at her. "If I'm not here to protect
you. . ." He stopped himself, trying to clear from his brain the tormenting
images of what they would do to her after they disposed of him.
"Can I tell you something?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And I want you to know I don't expect you to say anything back. No pressure.
No obligation. Okay?"
"Okay." She had aroused his curiosity, as he had no idea what she was going
to say.
Scooting across the narrow gap between them, she pressed her lips to his
long enough to send a shiver down his spine before pulling away and smiling.
"I love you." she said, before settling herself against his uninjured left
side, and laying her head on his shoulder.
Her words didn't surprise him. He had suspected it for months. And he wanted
to say it back. But the words stuck in his throat. He had never told anyone
he loved them. Not his friends, his parents, not even his sister. The words
would just not pass his lips.
Leaning his head to rest against hers, he knew he had to come up with a way
for her to escape. He had withheld the truth from her earlier. From previous
experience, he knew at least one of his ribs was broken, and there was a
75% chance his right lung had been punctured, because it was getting harder
to take a deep breath. That could be caused by the rib fracture alone, but
he didn't think so.
This was all his fault. He should have thought of the possibility of a camera
monitoring them. But he had been too distracted by being alone with Paige.
Not that he regretted a moment of what happened between them. It had made
them vulnerable though.
Because if he didn't receive medical attention soon, his already impossibly
low odds of survival would be nil. And those odds were unacceptable. He had
to stay alive to protect the woman he loved.