He parked near the front door of his house. No one knew anything about him or where they were. If anyone caught a glimpse of his license plate number, it would never lead the police to him. The plate had been registered to an abandoned wreck parked for a month two blocks from his studio downtown Toronto. Two days ago, the wreck was still there.
He smiled. The time had come. The time was his to control. He had become the master and Sarah Roberts was his slave.
Elmore got out and entered his house, leaving the two prisoners in his vehicle. He walked through the main floor, turning on lights, and went downstairs to set up the basement. After opening both cage doors, he grabbed two pairs of handcuffs, one of his 9mm semi-automatic Mamba pistols and made his way back out to the car.
The back windows were still down the inch he had allowed them for air, but the male looked worse. He needed to flush his eyes and get cleaned up.
Elmore placed the handcuffs at the crack in the window and let them both fall in.
“Place the handcuffs on and I will open the door. Then we will go into the house and discuss what is going to happen here.”
“Yeah, and I’ll do a tap dance and flit around like Peter Pan,” Sarah said. “How’s that? You want to hear anymore fairy tales, dick fuck?”
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation,” Elmore said as he leaned closer to the open window. He grabbed the end of his fake mustache and slowly pulled it off. “You’re mine now. There is no escape.” He pulled his Mamba out and showed it to her. “These little guys run a lot faster than you.” He put the gun back. “I know you’re strong, Sarah. But this part is easy. Put the cuffs on and come on inside so we can discuss what to do next.”
“Fuck you,” she said and raised her middle finger.
Elmore shook his head. “Disappointed in you, Sarah. No one knows where you are. No one can hear you. No one in Toronto knows me. There is nothing you can do that’ll alter your situation in any way. It’s over, Sarah. Put the handcuffs on or stay in the car all night. Your choice.”
She turned away from the window.
Fine. She’ll learn who’s tougher.
Elmore walked back into the house and entered his office. He booted up his computer and leaned back in his chair to wait. Once his news feeds had loaded he scanned them diligently. Below his desk was the cell phone jammer, which he should’ve brought with him so he wouldn’t have had to pull over and spray that guy’s face.
He flicked it on in case Sarah had a cell phone. He never patted anyone down for electronics. Too dangerous when the girls first arrived. His wi-fi jammer worked perfectly.
He wondered why there was no news about Sarah’s kidnapping or the man she was with. Sarah was a celebrity now. Why wouldn’t the media have something about what happened at the CN Tower?
Maybe it was too soon. He’d keep an eye on it overnight.
Who is that guy with her?
He’d find out soon enough. In the coming days, he’d know everything about both of them. He would get to know Sarah on a more intimate level. She’d be a good lay. If she wasn’t compliant, he’d drug her food and do what he wanted with her unconscious form for hours while the male watched from the adjoining cell. He’d prefer Sarah awake. He loved it when he pumped between a woman’s legs while she cried. He couldn’t get an unconscious female to cry, so he’d have to keep her awake for some of their trysts. Maybe he would secure her to the point where she couldn’t move any body part. That would work.
Making Sarah Roberts cry had been a dream of his for almost five years since he’d first heard about her exploits. He couldn’t believe his time had finally come. He now possessed his very own Sarah Roberts.
Elmore opened the desk drawer and withdrew the fingernail container. He uncapped it, grabbed the thickest one and placed it between his front teeth. Then he leaned back and started working on the scab.
This is the life.
He smiled, staring at the collage of images on the wall across the room. “Oh, yeah,” he said out loud. “Sarah Roberts will cry before I’m done with her. We are going to have such good time together, Sarah. You’ll see. You’ll come to enjoy me too. It only takes time, Sarah. I know you’ll grow to love me as I love you.”
Saul, Jonas
The Hostage
Chapter 20
After the fake cop disappeared into the house, Sarah redoubled her efforts on the door. She turned in the seat and laid her back down so she could kick at the glass. Nothing worked.
Drake breathed harder still. Without the aid of fresh air rushing in the windows, he got progressively worse.
Oh Parkman, where are you? I could really use your help here.
She grabbed the door handle and continued her attack.
“It ith no uth,” Drake said. “Here.” He handed her one pair of the cuffs. “I need wather.”
She understood. They were out of options. They had to change their circumstances. It would allow her to find a different way out. Nothing worked stuck in the car.
She gently placed the cuffs onto her bruised wrists, but kept them bound in front of her.
They waited, silently hoping the man came back soon. After what seemed like an hour, the front door of the house opened and the driver started down the front steps to make his way to the car.
Sarah held up her cuffs to show him. He nodded and smiled and looked for Drake’s. He also held them up.
“Okay, good,” the man said. “Now, add one more click so I know they’re secure and not on too loose and then we’ll go inside.”
Sarah clicked hers and Drake clicked his. Every second they were in the driver’s presence Sarah felt anger mixed with fear. He was too cool, too calm. One word resounded in her head: dangerous.
“Okay,” the man said. “Before I open the door, I have to warn you. Any act I deem aggressive toward my person or any attempt to escape will be met with more pepper spray — but I will empty the canister into your nose directly. When I drag you into the house, I will cut your body into as many pieces as I can and then make the other one of you eat the remains. Do not betray me. The stakes have been claimed and the price is too high. Are we clear?”
They both nodded their heads.
The door clicked on Sarah’s side. The man opened it and stepped back, a pistol in his hand.
What was that rant about pepper spray? Now it’s a gun?
He motioned for them to walk ahead of him. The house sprawled before her. There was some kind of patio on the roof but it was too dark to make anything out other than the railing.
She entered first into the house. It was so clean it almost looked sterilized. Off to the right of the main foyer sat large double doors that opened to a huge office. A banker’s desk sat near the window.
“This way,” the man motioned to the left with his gun toward the basement door.
Halfway down Sarah saw the large cages. She slowed her step and turned to see Drake right behind her. The driver raised his weapon and aimed it at her face.
“Keep moving. You’re in the one on the right.”
Sarah ran through her options but came up empty. Even if she grabbed something to throw, she wouldn’t be that effective with her hands cuffed in front of her.
She stepped down to the cement floor and walked up to the cage door. She had to do something. She couldn’t willingly walk into a death chamber. But what? She had no weapon and no way to wield one.
“I know what you’re thinking, but remember the consequences. The price is too high. Continue forward or I’ll shoot you in the leg and leave you alive long enough to do unspeakable things to you.”
Reluctantly, Sarah stepped into the cage, wondering if she would ever see outside the basement again.