Black Suede

Chapter Three

Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap.

I gave up tapping my head on the wall. I always watched kidnap films, they make it look so gruesome and interesting; it's not.  It's boring.  Not that I wanted to be here.  

I began to wonder if anyone would notice my disappearance.  Todd wouldn't, not for a couple of days, at least, when I wouldn't show up for work.  Brad might call me, however, he would figure I was too busy to talk.  Feeling hopeless, I heard the door open,making a hell of a noise.  I hopped into bed, pretending to be asleep.

"Dont fool me, I have been watching you for the last half an hour.  Get up wear this," said a gruff, unhappy voice, throwing something onto the bed.  I looked to see the voice didn't belong to Broderick.  Instead, a bald, chubby man, with eyes as slits. I was glad Broderick hadn't come in to see me yet, fearing his next encounter.  

I found what the man had thrown me, just falling off the bed from his carelessness.

"Oh dear," I thought, "if he thinks I am wearing that, he must be joking."

It was a black PVC corset and frilly knickers, with lots of straps going across the stomach area.

"I am not wearing that," I said to him bravely, earning myself his peircing glare, making his eyes look closed.

"Boss told me you would be like this," he said, rolling his eyes.  Grabbing a whip out of his back pocket, he smirked.  "Wear it, or else."

"Or else what?" I thought, if only I had the guts. I quickly grabbed the corset and hid beneath the covers to put it on.

Once I had finished, I got out of bed, repulsed by my appearance.  I also felt slightly embarrassed.  The man beckoned to me and I followed him through a long corridor ending at two long, metal doors.

"Enter," the man told me.

I pushed the two doors open, and came to a gym-like area with a large, glittery stage at one end.  I saw only one chair sitting in front of the stage, where Broderick sat. Suddenly happy to see him, I walked to him, away from the mean, bald guy.

"Well, well, well," he smirked.  "Look who it is!  It;s my favourite girl.  Now Sarah, you know what I want you to do?"

"I-I-I dont... I dont know," I whispered, tugging at the weird fabric that hardly covered my body.

He stood up and walked to me.  Grabbing my shoulders, I could feel his breathe tickling my ear as he leaned in.

"I want you to perform for me," he said, his face twisting into a malicious grin.

"Per-perform?"  I asked, placing my hands on my hips.  "Hold on a second."  He laughed and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.  "You kidnapped me to make me sing for you?"  Incredulously, I questioned him, moving my head in that attitude-like manner, making him laugh harder.

"Honey, I am your number one fan.  You, are the greatest singer ever, and now, you are mine."  He placed his hands behind his back and admired me like I was some kind of statue he really enjoyed.  "You are, like, my personal jukebox."

The bald man came up behind me and pushed me with a long, narrow stick.  

"Hey!"  I cried, noticing the sharp nail poking out of the end.  He prodded me harder, towards the stage.  When I got there, I nervously shook in front of the mic, not looking at anyone.

"Well?"  Broderick asked, impatient.  "Sing!" He screamed, maliciously.  I jumped and grabbed hold of the mic.

"What-what should I sing?"  I stammered, nerves forcing my legs to shake like jello.

"Your favorites," he said.  "As I understand it, you do cover songs for The Script?"  He asked me, raising an eyebrow.  I nodded.

"Sing Break Even," he said, eyeing me before telling the bald guy to turn the mic on and the lights off.

I wracked my brain for the song Break Even, remembering only the first couple of verses.

"I'm still alive, but I'm barely breathing," I started, letting my voice draw out, hoping to make the song sound longer so the absense of the third verse would go unnoticed.  "Just prayin' to a God I don't believe in."  Broderick sat back, relaxing his shoulders and swaying his body along with the song, tapping a foot with the rhythm.  The bald guy was staring at me, watching my every move.

"Start dancing!"  Broderick yelled suddenly, making me jump.  I began swaying my hips, shaking my head and letting my hair go everywhere, trying to get into the song.  There wasn't any music, so it was only me, my voice, and my failing memory.

By the time the song was over, Broderick was clapping enthusiastically, pausing only to whistle.

"You are incredible, my love," he told me, putting an arm around my waist.  I noticed how his thumb rubbed against my skin.  "It's time to eat now!"

He pushed me forward, following the bald man out of the room, into a beautifully set, dining room with a glass table.

"Don't get any ideas, my love," he said.  "You will never be able to break that table."  He laughed and the bald man joined in, contrasting with Broderick's beautiful, clear laugh.

Broderick sat at the table, making me sit next to him.  He beamed at me and placed his hand on my leg, rubbing my thigh.  I awkwardly positioned myself a different way, hoping he wouldn't notice it as my attempt to get away from him.  It didn't work and he grabbed my leg harder, making me stay put.

"Boss, we have blueberry waffles, bananas, and oranges," he told us, bringing a plate of fruit and a box of frozen Eggo Waffles.

"Delicious!"  Broderick said, patting my leg.  He leaned into me, resting his chin on my shoulder.  "Do you like waffles?"  He asked me, licking my earlobe.

"y-yes," I gasped, scared.

"Good," he said.  "Dan, toast her a waffle."

"A waffle?" I asked.  Surely he would give me more food, I thought.

"Of course, you want to keep your beautiful figure, so we have to make sure you don't add any pounds," he told me, making Dan toast four waffles for him.  My stomach seemed to sink into my intestines as I wondered how I was going to make it out of this alive.