“You can’t do this to me! Oh God, you can’t do this!”
“Yes, I can, and I will!” Grabbing the slender young woman by her arms, he threw her down on the couch. As he began to remove his shirt, she reached for the phone. A swift kick put the only thing that could have saved her life out of permanent commission.
“For that little insubordination, I will have to punish you, won’t I?”
“No! Help! Someone help me!” He clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle her screams. Taking her arms and pinning them behind her back, he dragged her towards the bedroom. Her silk scarves quickly immobilized her, binding her hands and arms. Her screams were further muffled by a scarf shoved into her delicate mouth and a scarf knotted behind her head. The villain grabbed his captive and stared into her frightened green eyes.
“Now then, you will behave!”
“CUT!” Rick Ryan bent down to untie his costar, Lynne Norris, who was giggling almost uncontrollably.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” she answered; wriggling out of the rehearsed, loose knots that Rick had tied.
Rick was one of the lead actors in a low budget but highly acclaimed soap opera called “If Only for One Night.” He played Nathaniel “Nate” Taylor, an aristocratic, money-hungry, bloodthirsty stockbroker who would do anything to get what he wanted. Lynne Norris, his beautiful, brown-haired, green eyed, tall, size two costar, played Nate’s girlfriend Angela Burns. Angela had found out something about her boyfriend that would have done better kept under the rug, but true to her nosey character, she was going to squeal on Nate.
Rick finished undoing the knots and Angela stood up. She looked at her watch.
“Whew, time for a break! Wanna go get some coffee?”
“Sure babe.” Rick had never said anything but he secretly had a crush on Lynne and had since the first day they met at auditions. However, he was afraid if they got involved, that if something went sour, their work would be interrupted. Lately though, his feelings for Lynne were growing stronger and stronger. Every time he looked at her, he swore he saw something that wasn’t there previously. He loved the way she walked the sound of her voice and the strawberry smell of her hair.
Briiiing! Briiing!
“Hold on babe, this is me.” Rick took his cellular phone off his belt clip.
“Hello?”
“Ricky? Are you at rehearsal?” The worried voice of Thelma Ryan, he and Caitlin’s widowed mother came through the phone.
“Yes, Mama. What’s the matter?”
“Ricky, I need you
to come home right away!”
“Is it Caiti, Ma?”
“Yes honey, I can’t say over the phone, it’s too awful. Just come home.”
“Okay Mama, I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Bye.” He hung up.
“What’s the matter?” Lynne looked concerned. She knew that Caitlin was a severe diabetic and that she and her brother were very, very close.
“My mother wouldn’t say but she wants me to come home. I think something’s wrong with my sister. I have to get out of here.”
“Rick, let me come with you. Maybe I can help.”
“Lynne, I can’t ask you to leave with me.”
“You’re not, I’m offering.” She gave him a warm, perky smile.
“Okay, get your stuff and meet me outside in five minutes.”
Twenty minutes later, Lynne braced herself against the passenger seat of Rick’s ’98 Toyota Cressida as he sped down the Dan Ryan Expressway, heading for his mother’s house. Thelma Ryan, a former fashion model and now a professor of fashion design at a local art school, had been alone with her children since her husband Michael, a police officer of twenty years, was killed when his car hit a sheet of ice and turned over, crushing him. It had been nearly twelve years but Thelma still missed her husband dearly. Their marriage was nothing but happiness. They had a few disagreements but they found that they could always work out any problem. Their children had been a pure blessing to them both. Thelma and Michael were inseparable as he brought her flowers, called her at work to sing in her ear, and they made love every chance they had. Now all Thelma had was her children, Caitlin and Rick. With Caitlin being diabetic, she worried constantly, even though Caitlin was able to keep her disease well in control.
Only a few hours ago, she got a horrifying call from one of the guards at the bank, telling her that Caitlin had been taken hostage by the bank robbers and that no one had any idea where she’d been taken. Thelma called the police and they were already searching the city for her daughter, but it wasn’t good enough. She was experiencing every parents’ nightmare, a missing child.
Rick darted in and out of traffic, daring any police officer to pull him over. Lynne saw a look of extreme determination in his ebony eyes. She braced herself as he swerved around a senior citizen doing just below the speed limit. He swerved once more and almost threw them into the path of an eighteen wheeler carrying train wheels. The trucker blew at him and Rick quickly threw up his middle finger in reply.
“I hope I’m not scaring you babe, but I have to hurry and get home.”
“No, not too much,” she said shakily. Lynne was grateful when they finally got off at the 87th Street exit. Then Rick sped through traffic lights, almost hit a couple of pedestrians and ran a red light before reaching his mother’s house. Lynne sighed in relief. Mrs. Ryan met them on the porch. Rick ran up to his mother and put his arms around her. She started sobbing the moment she felt her son’s protective touch.
“Come on Mama, it’s okay. Tell me what happened.” Lynne hung back , waiting to see if she should come inside or try and get back downtown to the studio.
“Caitlin was kidnapped!”
“What?” Rick motioned to Lynne to come in the house. She obeyed, following him into the house and closing the door behind them.
“The bank was robbed this morning and the robbers took her hostage!”
“Did you call the police?”
“I did and they’re looking for her! Oh Ricky, what if they don’t find her in time?”
“Don’t worry Mama, they’ll find Caiti.” Holding his mother firmly in his arms, Rick walked her over to the couch.
“Mama, I don’t want you to make yourself sick worrying.” Thelma had trouble with hypertension and when she was stressed, there was a chance of it rising to a very dangerous level. “Did you take your blood pressure medicine today?”
“I took an extra pill after I found out that Caitlin was missing.” Lynne, who stood in the foyer the entire time, came and knelt beside Mrs. Ryan.
“Is there anything I can do to help, Mrs. Ryan?”
“Oh I’m sorry dear, I didn’t even see you standing back there. How are you doing?”
“I think I should be asking you that. Can I get you anything?”
“Mama, I think you need to lie down. Lynne and I will stay here in case anyone calls.”
“Ricky, I…”
“Please Ma, go lie down. If you sit up, all you’re going to do is worry. I’ll bring you up some tea later.” Mrs. Ryan relented and Lynne walked her up to the master suite and stayed until she fell asleep. Downstairs, Rick found his mother’s rosary and clutched it tightly in his hands. As he began to pray, he suddenly felt a tremble and then a chill come over his body. He knew that wherever Caitlin was, her sugar level was beginning to drop.
“Please, Heavenly Father, Mother Mary, don’t let my sister die. Please bring her home safely.” Then he held the cross over his heart as he began to recite the “Apostle’s Creed.”
The van rattled on over the old streets leading back to the stockyards of Pershing Road, bumping over ancient potholes and sloshing through the mud. Cherren sat with Caitlin, watching her sleep. He had to admit that she had an innocent look about her, a gentleness that seeked to soften this hardened criminal’s heart. Oh, how much he wanted her, but not now, not with an audience. He would wait until she was locked in the room that he’d staked out in the abandoned warehouse for himself and then he would ravish her like a soldier away at war.
Finally stopping, Cherren heard his men opening the doors. He jumped out and lifted Caitlin over his shoulder. She weighed almost nothing to the muscular young man.
“Get the money inside and make sure the door is bolted tight! I’m taking the girl downstairs with me.”
“Going to have some fun, Boss?” Dave asked, an evil smile crossing his face.
“You better believe it. I plan to show this little pampered princess moves she’s probably never seen before.” They laughed as they walked inside. Cherren carried the unconscious young woman past rusty gears, cobweb covered machinery, all the while, the stench of old, rotting meat haunted their noses. Cherren had smelled death so much in his life that the smell never phased him at all. He carried Caitlin down some metal steps, past more machines and into what was once an office. Inside, the window had been deliberately painted days before to shut out any light. A clean but old mattress with a bedroll was tossed into one corner, along with two more rifles. Cherren lay Caitlin down and pushed the heavy door shut, locking it with the bolt. It was then that she slowly started to come around.
Caitlin’s head swam in a combination of the drug and now low-blood sugar. She still felt the tightness of the ropes around her body and the sticky feeling of tape holding her eyes and mouth shut. Something had changed. An odor seeped into her nostrils that made her want to get sick. She choked back bile because her stomach was one hundred percent empty. Her mouth was growing dry from the cloth stuffed inside. She was still alive, but for how much longer? How long would it be before the complications of a controllable disease took over her body, starving her brain and soon other vital organs of glucose? Her worst imagined fear was coming true.
Slowly, she rolled in her binds, trying to make some sense of what was happening to her. Head heavy, heart racing and now her palms growing sweaty, she moaned through her gag.
“Ah, my princess is awake.” She recognized Cherren’s baritone voice. She heard him moving, his shoes clicking over what sounded like cement.
Dear God, if only I could see! I hate being blindfolded! I need to speak, tell him I’m sick. Oh please God, let him remove this horrible gag! Please God, I don’t want to die this way! Caitlin moaned and wiggled as much as she could, hoping that Cherren would have some type of mercy.
“Something on your mind, baby?” She nodded vigorously.
“Please, take this gag off! I promise I won’t scream! I don’t feel good! I’m sick!” Her pleas were muffled by her gag but also weakened by her condition. Cherren looked at her and noticed that her skin didn’t have the rich caramel color that it had when he first saw her at the bank. Her skin was starting to become rather clammy.
“All right baby, I’ll take your gag off, no one but me will hear you anyway.” Working his fingers gently, he pulled the restrictive gag from Caitlin’s mouth. He removed the now soggy cloth from her mouth. She coughed and wheezed.
“Better?” he asked. Caitlin began to shake and tremble.
“Please….I’m….sick…..”
“You feel like you’re gonna puke or somethin’ baby?”
“Blood sugar…” her voice began to drain away, “too low…” Then Caitlin lost it completely. Her body went limp and she collapsed on the mattress.
“Miss Ryan? Miss Ryan? Oh shit!” Unlike what Caitlin had assumed, Cherren knew all about diabetes. He watched his own mother die in his arms from a diabetic coma. Something happened as he saw Caitlin lying in front of him. Something he couldn’t explain, but suddenly, he knew that her life was in his hands. He quickly removed her blindfold and he saw that her eyes were half open but had a glassy look to them. She was dying, dying right here, just like his mother.
“Caitlin! Can you hear me? Oh shit, come on, don’t do this to me again!” Cherren thought quickly. He felt around in his suit and came up with a couple of packs of sugar. He pried Caitlin’s lips apart and poured them under her tongue, where their contents would be more quickly absorbed by her body, bypassing her stomach. He watched and waited for a sign that she might come around.
“Damn! What’s happening to me? What the hell is happening to me?” he cried.
“Mmmm….” Caitlin moaned softly.
“Miss Ryan?” Cherren pulled her head of soft curls and locks into his lap.
“Home….” She whispered softly….”want to go home…” Cherren knew what she meant and he couldn’t let her leave, not now.
“Miss Ryan, Caitlin, stay with me, baby. I won’t hurt you. I promise I won’t hurt you. Open your eyes.” Caitlin heard his voice coming from a distance, at the end of some long, dark tunnel. The bonds still restricted her body. Her head still swam in a sea of pending death.
“Please God….” She moaned.
To Be Continued...