Kidnapped

Turning the Tables (Revised)

I couldn't tell what he was thinking as his stare was completely blank. My heart was racing but my mind raced faster, trying to come up with something that wouldn't give away my plan.

"You seem sweeter," I said. "Despite everything, you're doing what you can. I admire your bravery."

Like a statue coming to life, he reached for me so suddenly I jumped. He cupped my face in his hands, but hesitated. Desperation drew his eyebrows together and he brought his lips down onto mine again. I wanted to scream and run or fight him off. However, I didn't feel attacked. This was a desperate, lonely, heartfelt kiss. Our lips broke apart for a heartbeat and I tried to retreat again but he leaned forward, catching me before I could slip away from him. I remembered to close my eyes and act like I was enjoying it myself. His hands caressed my waist at first but soon grew more aggressive as the kiss intensified. My stomach lurched and my heart nearly stopped when he pushed me back against the wall. A low growl came from his throat and he pinned my shoulders to the wall. His ferociousness increased. He pressed his whole body against me, grinding hard, and forced the air from my lungs. I panicked and lashed out with my hands in search of something to hit him with.

Then he froze.

He lifted his head and looked down at me, his eyes wide and fearful. He scrambled away from me and paced the room, running his fingers through his hair and blowing out gusts of breath from between his lips.

"So that's it," he said finally. He stopped in the middle of the floor and stared at me for what seemed like forever. I couldn't read him.

"I could've done it," he said to himself softly. "Then this would be over."

"But you didn't." My voice trembled as I recovered. "That's why I think you're brave. You know it is wrong. We can get out of here. You and me."

"I- We can't." His hands started to shake. "My dad would find us- kill us. Or worse." He absentmindedly fingered the bottom of his shirt and started pacing again.

"We can get away," I told him. "The two of us against him; he won't stand a chance." I stood and crossed to him, then rested my hands on his chest, forcing him to stop pacing. "You're not like him. I can see that in you. You have a chance to do the right thing and end all of this. For good."

He brought his hands up to mine and held them for only a moment before shoving them back down to my sides. His lip curled and nose scrunched up to mimic his father. The fear he inspired in me didn't send me into a panic. As hard as he tried, he couldn't look like his father. Jerry had a wild glaze over his eyes when he looked at me. Andrew simply had a longing for the love he thought I could offer him.

"Don't act like this," I told him. "It's not you."

"I guess we're back to square one," he snarled, "aren't we?"

A cold sweat broke out on my back. Before succumbing to the overwhelming urge to cower before my captor, I took a deep breath to calm my heart.

"After all, I do have five days with you," he said menacingly. "I guess I'll just take my time, then."

His softness disappeared behind a stone wall of hateful indifference. I touched his face gingerly with the tips of my fingers and searched his eyes for anything that would bring back his softer side.

He jerked away from me; his own terror clouded his eyes. I followed boldly and took his hand.

"You don't have to be scared of hurting me," I said softly, feeling like an idiot. "You have control."