THE TORTURED Read online

  As Ryan noticed the screw in the tread of the tire, he placed his hands on his hips. This was a risk he could not take. The tire would have to be repaired before he drove to the suburbs. Being stranded – today – was not an option.

  Not at all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  NEED A RIDE?

  TWO. “Honey, don’t forget your backpack,” The mother reminded her six year old daughter as she ran into the kitchen.

  Having a child in kindergarten was both a blessing and disappointment to Meghan. Living with her daughter for the last six years - watching her grow, seeing her learn, and anticipating her going to school had been rewarding. As the day approached for her to begin school, she dreaded the thought of her daughter leaving. The girl attending school had left the mother feeling alone and uncertain of her future.

  Amanda attended school for a half day, yet those days had been the longest half days of Meghan’s life. The complications with the pregnancy would prevent her from ever giving birth again. Those complications, combined with a few other things, attributed to the early ending of her marriage to Mark. She and Amanda now lived comfortably, but alone, spending half of Mark’s inheritance.

  “Honey, your shoes,” Meghan laughed as she noticed that the girls shoes were on the wrong feet.

  Amanda looked down at the toes of her shoes and back up at her mother as if she had no idea of what was said.

  “They’re on the wrong feet, sweetie,” Meghan said softly as she knelt down beside the young girl.

  Amanda immediately sighed and dropped to the floor, grabbing her right shoe. Filled with frustration that she would disappoint her mother, she pulled the right shoe from her foot. As she did, her back pack fell to the floor.

  “Sorry momma,” the little girl half whispered as she struggled with her shoe.

  “No, sweetie, it’s okay. We can fix it, can’t we?” Meghan asked as she slipped her left shoe on the correct foot.

  As the little girl pushed her shoe onto her foot, she looked up and nodded at her mother. Struggling with the weight of her back pack, the girl stood, stumbled, and began to regain her footing. As she began to walk toward the entrance of the garage, she thought of the school projects she intended to bring home to her mother.

  “Sweetie, what’s in there?” Meghan chuckled as she motioned toward the back pack.

  “Stuff,” Amanda responded as she stepped through the door and into the garage.

  “We’ll look in there when you get home today and see if we can lighten that thing up. It looks heavy. Sound good?” Meghan asked as she opened the rear door of the SUV.

  The mother watched as the little girl nodded her head and climbed into the SUV. The stubborn I’ll do it myself nature of children at this age was entertaining for the mother to witness. The mother turned away to keep from laughing as the daughter climbed up and over the seat, back pack in tow.

  Looking at the reflection in the rearview mirror, Meghan admired her daughter’s image. The similarities between the two were striking. The daughter was certainly an extension of the mother, and reflected her genes. The mother smiled a smile of pride as she started the SUV.

  “Momma?” Amanda asked as the vehicle began to back out of the garage.

  “Yes, sweetie?” Meghan responded.

  “Momma, why are butterflies so pretty, but crickets are so ugly?” the little girl asked.

  The mother coughed a laugh, “Well honey, let’s see. God gives us all kinds of things on this earth, and some are beautiful and some aren’t. But everything has a purpose.”

  “What about people, momma? Brandon is ugly, momma,” Amanda stated flatly as she looked out the window.

  “Oh baby. People can’t help how they look. People are like butterflies and crickets, I suppose. Everyone has a place and a purpose. Everyone is beautiful in their own way,” Meghan looked in the rearview mirror for a response, pursing her lips to keep from smiling.

  “Momma, Brandon is uggggleeeee,” Amanda turned and looked into the mirror, directly at her mother’s reflection.

  “Honey, Brandon can’t help what he looks like. Do you understand? All people are beautiful in some way. I bet if you give Brandon a chance, you’ll see that he’s very nice,” Meghan stated as she turned the corner slowly and waited for her daughter to digest what had been said.

  The little girl turned and stared out the window.

  After a moment of silence, Meghan began to wonder the young girl’s thoughts. She didn’t like thinking of her hating anyone or not seeing the good that Brandon may have to offer. She broke the silence with the hope of persuasion.

  “Sweetie, have you tried to talk to him?” Meghan asked softly.

  Amanda turned from the window and looked into the mirror, “No, momma. He smells like peanut butter.”

  Meghan laughed out loud. The thought of someone smelling like peanut butter caused her to smile. As she continued to drive, she imagined a man of peanut butter odor asking her on a date. Pulling into the school entrance, she decided she would go on the date as long as the man was a true gentleman.

  A true gentlemen with good taste.

  Meghan parked and exited her door. As she opened the rear door of the vehicle, she noticed the young girl pulling against the restraints in the seat.

  “Sweetie, just a minute, I’ll unbuckle you. Are you anxious to get to school?” Meghan smiled.

  Amanda nodded and grabbed her backpack as the mother unbuckled the car seat. As soon as the buckle was undone, Amanda began to slither between the door of the car and the mother’s leg.

  “Hey, come here. Give me a kiss,” Meghan shouted as the young girl took off running toward the door.

  As Amanda stood on her tip toes, the mother bent down to kiss her. “Your momma loves you, Amanda.”

  “Love you,” Amanda smiled as she tugged on her overweight back pack.

  “Remember, everyone and everything has a purpose, okay?” Meghan said as the daughter walked away.

  Amanda nodded a sharp exaggerated nod.

  “Get going,” Meghan laughed.

  As Amanda turned and ran toward the school door, the mother wondered how she could ever go a day without seeing her. Next year would certainly be a challenge. Living in a small suburb had advantages, but nothing could shelter her from the fact that her only daughter was going to grow up.

  Two more weeks of school, the summer, and Amanda would be gone. Meghan smiled as she watched Amanda pull the door open to walk into the school. As the young girl walked past the glass door, she turned and waved. That, standing alone, provided the mother all the reason in the world to smile.

  And she did.

  Meghan got into the car and slowly drove along the paved drive away from the school. Driving into the sun, she noticed what was left of the now forgotten winter on the front of the car. The filth of a few snowstorms from early March made a mess of the city, and of her once clean Mercedes SUV. Now well on its way to May, the threat of snow was over. Meghan was prideful of her Mercedes; and the winter’s grime made it look cheap and not unlike all of the other cars on the road.

  Cleaning the car, relaxing with a cup of coffee, and an early lunch quickly became the plan to get the mother through the child’s school day.

  The secluded car wash was a departure from her typical route, but the car wash was a self-service type. Something about washing the car was satisfying to her - a form of reassurance that she didn’t necessarily need a man in her life.

  As she drove into the car wash, she was relieved that there were no lines. It should take her twenty minutes to wash the car, and then she could relax at the coffee shop for a good part of Amanda’s school day. As she parked the car in the stall she reached for her purse.

  As she sat in the stall, a white BMW sedan watched from the road that accessed the car wash. Calmly, the driver tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. Somewhat impatient, the driver took a sip from his cup of coffee as the music continued to play.

&n
bsp; As Meghan opened the door of her SUV and stepped into the wash bay, she thought of her daughter and smiled.

  The driver placed his coffee back in the cup holder and inched forward toward the entrance.

  As she fed her bills into the change machine, the white sedan inched toward the stall directly behind her. The driver smoothly turned the car in a semi-circle, and backed into the stall next to the vacuum machine. The maneuver went unnoticed by the woman.

  Ryan reached into his pocket and removed two quarters for the vacuum. As he stepped out of the car, he admired the tone of the woman’s skin. This, to him, was his most important victim. This would allow the game to begin. The game would fuel him to continue, and the continuance would assure him of his calculating nature.

  They were wrong about me, he thought as he placed the quarters in the machine.

  As Ryan began to vacuum the car, Meghan turned and faced him for a split second. Her smile caused him a brief moment’s satisfaction. Satisfaction, in this form, was something that he cherished.

  As she turned back toward the machine, he removed an eight inch long piece of tape, handcuffs, and a Tazer from the trunk. Quickly and fluidly, he approached Meghan from behind. As his hand cupped her mouth, he pulled one of her arms behind her back. With the tips of his fingers, he secured the tape over her mouth. The entire process took less than three seconds.

  As Ryan pulled her other hand to her back, he secured the loose handcuff. Swiftly, he picked her from her feet, and took three long steps to the trunk of the car. Carefully lowering her in the trunk, he pulled the vacuum hose and placed it back into the retainer beside the machine.

  Quickly, Ryan closed the trunk of the car and scanned the lot for any witnesses. Satisfied that there were no onlookers, he pushed his hands into the front pockets of his slacks, inhaled through his mouth, and smiled.

  As Ryan exhaled through his nose, his lips formed a smirk. Content with his accomplishment, he pulled his hands from his pockets, opened the car door, and got in.

  Ryan buckled his seat belt, shifted the car into gear, and slowly pulled from the lot. He drove away quite certain that there would be no one who could hear his new passenger. He had reinforced the trunk with sound deadening material and another inner layer of steel. The ten mile ride to his home would be unnerving to his new passenger, but would provide him no displeasure what so ever.

  Ryan removed his coffee cup from the cup holder and took a long drink. As he turned the music volume up, he pressed his index finger to his eye, against the lid. His eye twitching bothered him. To him, it was a sign of weakness. A sign of nerves. A sign of incompetence.

  As Ryan pressed his finger against his eye, his mind filled with wonder.

  The thought of someone willingly forfeiting their life was fulfilling to him.

  The real question was who?

  Who would be first?

  Incompetent?

  Not in the least, he thought.

  Not in the least.

  CHAPTER THREE

  QUADRUPLETS?

  THREE. Confused and scared, Meghan pressed her feet against the inner walls of the trunk. The inner structure of the trunk, regardless of where she pressed her feet, was solid. She shifted her body and pressed her feet into the rearward corners, attempting to kick out a taillight. Again the feeling of reinforcement discouraged her.

  This obviously wasn’t his first, she thought. Wonder filled her. Why me? What does he plan to do? Will I ever see Amanda again? The confusion turned to frustration and the frustration evolved into anger. She kicked harder.

  And she began to cry.

  She shifted to her side to relieve the pain in her arms. She had never been arrested, and at no time had ever been handcuffed. There was something about being bound that had always interested her, especially since her divorce from Mark. The darkness of the trunk began to sooth her. She closed her eyes, counted to three, and opened them again.

  No difference.

  She moved her arms, and found a position that was comfortable. As she attempted to pull her wrists apart, the metallic sound of the handcuffs reassured her that she not going to escape. She closed her eyes and became hypnotized by the repetitive sound of the car tires on the roadway beneath her.

  Her thoughts moved from her current situation to her past. She began to think of her marriage, before Amanda was born. She and Mark were best friends that decided to marry. Based on their past experiences and love for each other, she had felt as if the marriage would last forever. She closed her eyes and recalled a time when they first moved in together as newlyweds.

  They were having a talk about sex over breakfast. The home they had moved into was a in a nice neighborhood, and large enough for the family they had planned. The kitchen was large, and had an eating area at the end of the kitchen. Seated at the table, she had started a discussion with Mark about her sexual desires.

  “Would you consider tying me up?” Meghan asked Mark.

  “I guess I don’t understand why,” Mark responded with a look of confusion.

  “I think it would be exciting,” Meghan stated.

  “Exciting? What about being tied up is exciting?” Mark chuckled.

  “I think I would like it. When I think about it, it makes me wet, Mark. It excites me. I really don’t know why,” she explained.

  “No, I don’t think I’d like it. It’s about what we both like, you know. What we want to share, right?”

  Slowly, she nodded.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  She thought of Mark forcing himself on her, holding her down, and slapping her. The thought of it excited her greatly. She yearned to be taken, sexually. Forcefully assaulted, held down, called names, and slapped.

  Against her will.

  She knew, of course, she would be willing. The thought if her inner fantasies confused her. Since she was a teen, these thoughts were often recalled as she masturbated. The reason, to her, for the feeling of desire toward this forceful act was not clear. She rubbed her neck with her hand and responded.

  “No, that’s it,” she responded as she stood from her chair.

  “Don’t get mad and leave,” he said as she stood.

  “I’m not mad. I’m finished,” she said as she turned her cereal bowl for him to see.

  “Okay. I just don’t want you getting mad over this. It creeps me out to think about choking you, holding you down, or slapping you,” he squinted and slowly shook his head as he spoke.

  “I understand. It was just a thought. You know, role play,” she said from the kitchen sink.

  “Put on a school girl skirt, that’s role play,” he chuckled as he stood from his chair.

  The thought of it made bile rise in her throat. Thinking of grown men fucking school girls wasn’t something that appealed to her. She stood at the sink and wondered why being raped or choked appealed to her so much. Frustrated, she rinsed her bowl and stepped from the sink.

  “I’m going to go for a run,” she said as she walked past him.

  He extended his arm and stopped her in mid stride. “You’re not disappointed?”

  “No, not at all,” she lied.

  “Okay, kiss me,” he pleaded as he puckered his lips in an exaggerated fashion.

  She kissed his lips lightly and stepped around him. The disappointment was hard for her to hide. She wondered if she could live her entire life without having her true sexual wants, needs, desires, and fantasies fulfilled.

  The rear of the car jolted, bringing Meghan from her relaxed daydreaming state. Although she opened her eyes, the darkness enveloped her. As the car jolted again, she blinked her eyes.

  Speedbumps?

  She shifted her weight on her hips, attempting to get more comfortable. As she twisted her torso, she realized she had become sexually aroused. Somewhat uncomfortable in her state of arousal, she twisted her hips, and attempted to roll onto her back.

  Soaking. Wet.

  As she felt the car slowly turn a corner, she gritted her
teeth and clenched her jaw. By her calculations, she had been in the car for fifteen minutes or so. The entire time, she had allowed herself to be filled with sexual thoughts, and not of her daughter. As the guilt began to build, she felt the car come to a stop.

  The sound of her breathing filled the trunk. There was virtually no transference of outside noise into the trunk. As the car pulled forward slowly, she blinked her eyes. She felt as if she could hear her heart beat.

  Stopped again.

  The vehicles engine was shut off.

  She took a deep breath.

  As she slowly exhaled, the trunk opened. She squinted at the introduction of light to the trunk. She blinked several times and looked into the eyes of her captor. A handsome man in his late twenties or early thirties stood over her and smiled a soft smile. She shifted he weight, pushed against the trunk floor with her elbow, and sat upright.

  “My name is Ryan Capshaw. I have no reservations in telling you this. You can think about why later. I’m going to remove you from the trunk, and I will do so carefully. Please, for your safety, don’t resist. There’s nowhere for you to go, and escaping is not an option,” he spoke very clearly and with a soft voice.

  She blinked her eyes and lay still.

  “I will not remove the tape from your mouth until we are at our destination. Additionally, I will place a hood over your head before I remove you from the trunk. If you are going to participate in your relocation favorably, please blink your eyes twice.”

  She blinked twice.

  “To assure me that you understand, blink once again,” he asked softly.

  She blinked once.

  “Most excellent. I’m going to cover your head now. The sitting up, that was impressive. Most are incapable,” Ryan said as he motioned into the trunk with his index finger.

  As Ryan gestured toward the trunk Meghan noticed the watch on his wrist. For a moment she focused on his left hand and the watch that was on his wrist.