Chapter Thirty…
I was shoved into the backseat, squashed between two overly sized men, who I was surprised could even fit in the car, never mind with me in between them. They were a combination of muscle and beer-belly and their hair was greasy. They were definitely in their mid-thirties, if not older. Not exactly your typical image of someone to kidnap a teenage girl.
They weren’t the instigator though, they were just carrying out what they’d been ordered to do.
As soon as we were safely away from the school and speeding down a road, I felt the rope being bound around my hands. Despite knowing I couldn’t get anywhere anyway, they still tied it so tight I could feel the grooves it would be leaving behind.
“Why are you doing this?” I demanded, speaking to Arthur, who was occupying the driver’s seat rather than the apparent body guards either side of me.
He snarled at me, his eyes catching mine in the mirror. “Because she deserves this.” He hissed, giving no explanation whatsoever.
I opened to my mouth, but was stumped. Whereas I was about to insist on not knowing what I had done that could make me deserve this, I realised he hadn’t said me, he’d said she. “She?” I repeated. “You mean my mum?” I figured out.
He didn’t speak another word, but simply replied with a sharp nod of the head. Even with the knowledge that it was my mother he was kidnapping me for, it didn’t reassure me anymore, or make me any less scared.
I found the reality catching up to me, and I began to shake uncontrollably. I was being kidnapped. Taken away from my normal life by this deranged madman who was calling himself my father.
What I wanted right now, was Jord. The heartbroken look I recalled on his face when he saw me being pulled into the car was haunting me now. The anger with which he’d thrown the pen at the wall; kicked whatever object it was in his way; made me realise how much he actually cared. Now I might not even get the chance to tell him how I really felt. To make sure that he knew, really knew.
Somewhere along the way, whether it was from anxiety or shock I didn’t know, I drifted off into a state of unconsciousness.
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The same tight rope bound around my wrists held me in place to the rickety chair I was now tied to. Thankfully, it had been loosened marginally, but my hands were still rubbing together uncomfortably.
Glancing around, I saw I was in something that resembled an old warehouse. It looked almost derelict and there was a collection of cobwebs dangling from the ceiling, which had many holes in, making my gut twist shamelessly. I had never been good with spiders.
There was a variety of windows in a variety of places, but most had been smashed in, leaving only gaping holes. They were all far too high for me to see out of though and the bottom of the wall was all brick, definitely not transparent.
The one door that I could make out was shut tightly, but I was guessing this place was in the middle of nowhere, so I wouldn’t be going anywhere anyway.
I could make out Arthur and his cronies’ figures at the opposite end of the spacious room, all huddled around something. I was almost afraid to find out what it was, but when I did see, I shouldn’t really have been surprised.
Vaguely, I watched as Arthur snorted some Cocaine. I shook my head in disgust. All this time, he’d been exactly the same. Accusing my mother of being a drug addict, whilst inhaling the stuff himself. Hypocrisy at its finest.
I struggled against the binds that held me, but it was no use, and I guess I knew that really. It was another automatic reaction though - I didn’t want to be held here, and so I was going to go to many lengths to get out of it.
When Arthur seemed to notice I was back in the world of the living, he gave me a sardonic sneer, which unlike Matt’s constant smirk, was extremely unpleasant. He came over, standing right in front of me, but towering over my small frame which was confined to the chair.
Defiantly, I met his eyes. There was no point showing my fear. No doubt I was here for a specific reason, and my actions wouldn’t change that, unless I could get out of this.
“Look who’s calling a pot calling the kettle black.” I quipped, raising an eyebrow at him fearlessly.
He shrugged. “It wasn’t my fault I knew more about you than you did me.” He replied nonchalantly. “I wasn’t likely to give you anything that would earn you an advantage was I? Besides, I wasn’t always like this. Drugs only came into my life about seventeen years ago.” He gave by way of estimation.
I instantly caught the reference to my birth and scowled. My mum had always told me that my father had died when I was two. Was that a lie, or had I really known Arthur for two years before he was never seen again?
“What was so bad about my birth?” I inquired, unable to help the curiosity spreading through my voice. My mum hadn’t even given me part of an explanation, so even if Arthur was the only one who could tell me I was willing to listen, regardless of the glum situation.
“Not your birth.” He clarified with a wave of his hand. “More like six months before.”
A far away look on his face made me realise that there was a lot more to this than I originally realised. “Can you, can you tell me?” I requested sincerely, trying not to sound demeaning and actually show the need I had to find out the truth.
With a moments hesitation, he nodded. “I suppose you ought to know why you’ve been dragged into this in the first place.” He admitted.
I couldn’t help the small, yet humourless smile, which spread across my lips. I guess I wouldn’t even know whether he was telling the truth if I took count of all the other lies I’d been told. It was a surprise I could trust anyone in my life at the moment.
“I was married once.” He brought my out of my self-doubt with his revelation.
My eyes widened in shock as he told me that. He and my mum had been married. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised really, but for some reason that stunned me completely. For a starter, she’d never mentioned being married to him.
“Not to Martha.” He clarified, managing to confound me even more.
I listened intently, as he recapped the story that would hopefully gain me some kind of understanding.
Arthur adjusted the hat he was forced to wear during his tedious occupation. He sighed, recalling how yet another employee had been let go today. It was only a matter of time before it was him, and he knew that, unfortunately. He made a mental note to begin searching for a new job when he got the chance.
He did manage to cheer himself up, however, with the knowledge he would be visiting Martha tonight. Despite the surge of guilt as he let his imagination run wild, he still found solace in her arms, more so than he currently did in Hayla’s.
Even with the latest revelation that she was pregnant, Arthur still couldn’t bring himself to cut the ties, to end it there and then. He knew, he knew what they had was wrong. From the beginning they’d agreed that this fling, this affair, would be casual. That wasn’t the case anymore though, for either of them. Even if they had never indulged themselves in expressing feelings, it was obvious to him the they were both into something bigger than they had originally thought.
Adjusting his hat for the second time in the space of a minute, he pushed his front door open. Before he could escape to the recluse of Martha’s cramped apartment, he needed to change and join his wife for dinner. Hayla always prepared it for five o’clock on the dot; something that came in handy for Arthur’s late night exploits.
Martha, however, was completely different. She didn’t run to a schedule, she took the opportunities when they arose, which had been how they’d come to meet in the first place. Both out and around town, drunk senseless, they had committed the unforgivable act of having a one night stand. Yet, it was still something Arthur couldn’t bring himself to regret. Things had blossomed from there, as they seemed to run into each other out of sheer coincidence a few times afterwards.
Martha knew nothing of his marriage. He’d never had the guts to tell her. Excuses of work, family commitments, the lot, but never had he told her that he couldn’t be there because his wife was expecting him home. He knew it would crush her, but he didn’t have the bravery, he wasn’t that courageous.
It would be his little secret, and although the prospect of a child on the horizon had thrown him off balance completely, he was sticking to his original morals - if he could even refer to them as that. Martha would not find out, she couldn’t. He’d spun a web of lies which would crush both parties if they found about it.
“I’m home!” He called to Hayla, trying to keep his distracting thoughts confined to the depths of his subconscious. He didn’t need to be pondering this right now. There was too much stress in his life. Right now, he needed to enjoy his meal, then find his release in the company of Martha tonight. Tell himself that everything was alright, that everything would turn out okay in the end.
Even though he knew there wasn’t a chance of that happening.
“Hello dear!” Hayla replied, her mood more elated than he’d heard in a long time. Arthur puzzled over it, before deciding he should just stop thinking and find out what had got his wife so happy.
Martha sipped her tea politely, laughing loudly as her old friend Hayla told yet another amusing story of one of her escapades. Martha had always known Hayla as being out there, one who wasn’t afraid to do as she pleased, hearing that she was now settled down, content with a husband had shocked Martha, to say the least.
It had sent her thoughts indisputably to Arthur though. She was still anticipating their union tonight, having not seen him for the last week, after he’d claimed he was busy with work.
Absentmindedly, she patted her slightly swollen stomach. This child, this child might be the thing that brought them undeniably closer than they ever were. Would she ever have family life that Hayla expressed was so great? She could only hope so, because she knew that Arthur was the one for her.
Hayla had never had children, describing how she was happy with her life at the moment, happy with her work and not wanting to ruin that with the burden of a child. Martha saw it in exactly the opposite light, however. She was thrilled at the prospect of bearing a child, bringing life into the world. Especially life she could share with Arthur.
“I still can’t believe you’re pregnant.” Hayla exclaimed, having taken notice of Martha’s attention being on her stomach. “Before me as well, I’m shocked.”
Martha chuckled, her mood still blissful as she ran through the many opportunities for happiness that this child could bring. “Me too, I can’t believe it.” The finger she caressed her stomach with was one of tenderness, of absolute adoration.
“You still haven’t told me anything about the man your with.” Hayla prompted.
A sigh of idolisation escaped Martha’s lips as her attentions set themselves back to Arthur. “He’s amazing,” was all she could come up with that might possibly sum Arthur up in one word. Despite their agreement of a casual fling, Martha knew that she loved him, and she could only hope that he loved her back - the look in his eyes as they made love certainly told her he did, even if he hadn’t verbally.
Hayla chuckled at Martha’s love struck behaviour, but before she could make another comment, the door had banged, alerting both women that Hayla’s husband was indeed back.
“I’m home!” The voice called, evoking a strange feeling within Martha. He sounded oddly similar to Arthur, but, most men from the inner Sheffield area held the unattractive accent that Arthur did.
“Hello dear!” Hayla replied, her voice alight with the happiness of seeing her husband return home, for him to meet her old friend Martha. Little did she know that they were already acquainted.
When Hayla’s husband did enter the room, Martha was stunned into a state of silence, her breathing coming out in short rasps as she took in the figure in front of her.
Arthur gaped, his face being able to find no other emotion to show than horror. Horror and fear. This wasn’t supposed to be how it happened. No, never like this.
“Arthur?” Martha choked out, her voice constricted with the utter betrayal she was feeling. How could he do this to her? She was pregnant and he was married? This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out.
“Martha?” Arthur reciprocated her exclamation, complete with the same pain and anguish. His, though, his was not filled with betrayal, because in this situation, he had been the one doing the betraying. He’d lied, and now he was facing the consequences. Only he was bringing two people down with him.
“Do you two know each other?” Hayla interrupted the intense stare that glued the two lovers’ eyes to one another. They were both speechless, sending messages of their feelings simply through their gazes. Something that Arthur knew he could never have done with Hayla.
“I guess you could say that.” Martha spat bitterly, her voice disclosing the obvious hatred towards this man she was now feeling.
“Martha.” Arthur repeated, not daring to take a step forward, but holding out an arm in a desperate attempt at admitting defeat, that she might possibly give him the chance to explain. To rectify his unforgivable actions.
“How do you two know each other?” Hayla phrased her question differently this time, letting the suspicion at their reaction seep through and causing a frown to adorn her face, which echoed the two paramours’.
Martha turned her fierce glare onto Hayla then. She couldn’t help but hate her too. Hayla had been the one which gained the benefits of Arthur’s love. Hayla was the one whom he returned to every night, the one who he gave her up for. It was Hayla that he made excuses for. Never her.
“He,” Martha hissed at Hayla. “Is the one who’s the father of this child. So if you want to know what he’s like, it turns out that you already do. Because he’s your husband.” The venom with which Martha spoke could rival a cobra’s and Hayla knew instantly that it was truth with which she accused Arthur.
Arthur stared with incredulity as Martha divulged such information so readily. Of course he knew she was angry, beyond angry, even, but did she have to be so honest, so early? Couldn’t she have at least given him a chance to speak, to justify his actions? Apparently not. Not that he could blame her really, in the situation himself, he knew he’d have been just as impulsive, if not worse.
He was drawn from his thoughts when a familiar finger was jabbed into his stomach, causing a shot of pain to burst through him. Not physical pain, though, but mental pain. Martha had never been violent towards him; in a playful way, of course, but never aggressive - never with the intention to cause affliction.
“I hate you.” She declared, the honesty in her eyes killing him. “I can’t love you anymore, not now you’ve done this. No, I hate you.” She sounded as though she was trying to convince herself more than him, but still, she stormed out, never coming back and never even giving Arthur the opportunity to find her again. She packed up and had left by the next morning, running away from her problems, just like he did in the end by finding the job abroad.
And that, that was the only love confession he ever got from Martha. One that was spoken with such hate he could barely comprehend it.
“Hayla and I got an annulment.” Arthur finished off his story. “I moved abroad and let myself become engrossed in my work. That was after I’d spend two years searching for her, however. I needed to get clearance, and that was the only way. But, when I never found her, I lost myself in work. The love I once had, accumulated into anger, and now I blame her. She’s the reason that I lost Hayla. I lost my life and now its time she lost hers too. That’s why you’re here. Because without you, she’ll be as lost as I was.”
His sardonic laughter filled the room, jolting me back to my sense. I’d been so enthralled with his tale that it had actually brought tears to my eyes. Obviously he had been to blame for the end result, but I couldn’t blame him for having wanted my mum. He’d obviously loved her a lot more than this Hayla woman he was married to.
In a way, it was similar to Jord and I. We shouldn’t be doing what we did, yet it had still happened, twice, and my feelings for him still plagued my mind for most of the day. I knew I’d never hate him though, that was the main difference. I could never hate Jord, no matter how much he betrayed me.
“You’ve gone mad.” I announced. “You’ve gone mad looking for her and loving her. In fact, you still love her, only now you’ve tried to convince yourself it’s hate.”
I probably shouldn’t be provoking him, even if it wasn’t particularly intentional. It was just like what I’d done with Zack, and that had ended up more than badly.
“No I haven’t.” He yelled, kicking the chair he’d decided to occupy during his recollection. “I hate her.”
I shook my head, but didn’t speak, knowing I had reached the danger zone.
A slight vibrating cut me off though, and although I knew Arthur couldn’t hear it, it had startled me into silence. My phone, concealed in my back pocket, was ringing. It was ringing.
I knew my hands wouldn’t be able to reach it without being obvious, but if I could manoeuvre myself so that I sat on just the right button, I might be able to answer it and let whoever it was know I was safe, for the moment.
Wiggling about subtly until I felt the vibration stop, I now considered how I was going to go about this. “So, Arthur.” I was speaking loudly, and trying to make sure whoever had rung me could hear, as well as giving away as much information as possible. So far, I had managed to disclose that Arthur was the one who had kidnapped me.
“Yes?” He answered, almost confused.
“You never told me where we are.” I stated, trying to keep my face straight and not show any desperation for the knowledge I needed to find out. Arthur frowned, a puzzled look on his face, before opening his mouth no doubt to deny me any information. “But what’s the harm in telling me now? I’m tied up.” I reminded him, tensing my arms against the restrictions as proof. “I’m just trying to strike up conversation.”
He sighed, but shook his head in resignation. “We’re just off Junction 29.” I could guess he meant the M1 there, so near to Chesterfield. “In an abandoned warehouse, in case you hadn’t realised.”
“Junction 29.” I repeated, my voice a notch higher as I tried not to sound too weird, repeating what he had said. “Well, I guess a warehouse is pretty inconspicuous. There are tons of them around.” I emphasised the word warehouse, hoping that whoever was on the phone, if I had even managed to connect with anyone, could hear me.
Arthur snorted, a sound that almost surprised me. It was genuinely amused, rather than the normal sneers to gave. “Not this one. It’s massive and white, of all colours. It sticks out like a sore thumb around all these fields.”
I stared at him, wide eyed. “White? Out of all the abandoned warehouses you could have chosen, a white one?” I was replaying this for the benefit of the phone, but I couldn’t help the genuine curiosity. That was pretty stupid as far as I was concerned.
“It’s less obvious, in a way. Why would people think we’d hide in such an obvious place. They won’t even consider checking here.” He explained, actually kind of making sense. Hopefully whoever was on the other end of the phone would now know, however, and be on their way here.
There was still information I could get to them, though. “I didn’t think you’d kidnap me unarmed, though.” I pointed out, being slightly honest once again. I hadn’t seen them pull out one weapon so far, not that they had really needed to, and I guess that surprised me. In films, people always conducted kidnappings with at least five types of gun. Mind you, someone was normally already dead in the films.
Chuckling, his laugh now cold and calculating rather than natural, he pulled out a gun and pointed it to my head. I squeaked, now facing the barrel of what I assumed to be a live weapon. “Who said we were unarmed?” He returned.
“Yeah.” I agreed. “You’re definitely armed.” I was still saying it for the benefit of the phone, but I noticed how my voice shook this time.
“That’s not all.” He taunted, his voice filled with a sort of mad pleasure this time, as he pulled out a small knife which would normally have been used to cut fruit up with. Lowering the gun, he pushed this against my neck now, not drawing blood, but putting on enough pressure to make my pulse increase and the vein to throb against the blade.
I one quick movement, he had released the knife, deciding to swipe it against my arm instead, effectively splitting my skin. It stung, but not enough to make me cry out like I wanted to. It wasn’t a serious injury, it was just a warning. A warning for me to stop pushing my luck and a reminder that I wasn’t the one in charge here. He was.
A splatter of blood dropped to the floor, but it wasn’t significant. It just marked the warehouse, told everyone that I had been hurt here.
I averted my gaze, not determined enough to carry on my defiant streak. I just needed to hope now, hope that whoever had rung me was friendly. That my efforts had paid off and I had even connected with them in the first place.
If I hadn’t, then I knew I was in for much more than that one laceration on my arm, because Arthur had definitely proved his unstable mental state, and with the added drugs, I didn’t want to be the one he took his frustrations out on.
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Next Chapter! So, this is the one most of you have been waiting for, finding out the reason behind Arthur and his madness, and the whole not seeing Jess things. I hope you didn't mind the flashback thing. I thought it was better to show his feelings rather than bore you with tons of speech!
And wow, a couple of achievements today! I got 70,000 reads on A Year Full Of Surprises, like WOW. Amazing. Also, this story is at #159 on What's Hot, the highest it's ever been! WOW. Again, I love you all!
The video, it's hilarious. If you haven't watched it before then you totally should be I die laughing like everytime :D
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