Held (20 page)

“I feel so sad and I didn’t even know him.”

“Yes, he was a wonderful fellow.”

“Thank you for trusting me. I won’t say anything to anyone, ever.”

“I told you—no matter what you report, they’ll assume that everything I’m telling you is a lie. In fact, the best thing I could do for my case is—” He stopped in his tracks. It was the first time he hadn’t thought through what he was going to say, and he looked confused and a little embarrassed. I was very moved, seeing those emotions on his face.

“Is what?” I urged.

He said, in his most I’m-in-control voice, “The best thing for me would be to have sex with you, that would absolutely settle it, for them.”

I laughed. “We’re in a looking-glass world. Everything’s inside out … What if they think I’m making everything up, even if I tell the truth?”

“That won’t happen. They’re trained in interrogation and you’re not. That’s why telling the truth is the best and easiest thing you can do. If they pick up that you identified with me, they’ll blame the Stockholm Syndrome. It won’t be in their interest to let that leak. At least I hope that’s the case.”

“You still think that’s what I have—the Stockholm Syndrome?”

“Yes.”

“That means you don’t really love me either?”

“No, that part is real. I never thought I’d fall in love, after all I’ve been through. But yes, I’ve fallen in love with you.”

It took all the control I had not to hoot. Instead I said calmly, “Doesn’t that mean you want us to be together?”

“Yes, in theory. But it’s just not possible.”

“I don’t accept that. Why not apply to university? We could go to the same one and meet that way. Your rich friend can afford it, I’m assuming.”

“It’s not a question of cost.”

“What would your mother want for you? A life of crime and danger, or a career and family?” I regretted the question as soon as I asked it, and I covered my mouth in dismay. He’d trusted me with his tragic story, and I was already using it against him, to score a point. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I said.

“This is a situation where you don’t need to apologize for anything, Chloe. My mother would want me to go to university and have a family, of course.”

“Then please, please promise never to do anything like this again!”

“How can I make any promises about the future? How can anyone?”

“Of course people can! When it comes to morals and values you have to be able to promise. It’s a promise you make to yourself—not to lie, not to steal, to be a good person.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Being a good person includes not taking the law into your own hands.”

“There would never have been a legal review if not for this abduction and all the pressure it created.”

“Even if that’s true—even if it worked once, it doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do. It definitely doesn’t mean it will work a second time. And you’ll never know, will you, whether you’d have managed to get what you wanted in some other way.”

“In theory.”

“Well, theory is everything. Action has to be based on theory, not on wild impulse.”

“They said in the newspaper you were smart.”

“Everyone’s smart in some ways, dumb in others. That’s what Angie always says. Look at you. You’re smart, but this hostage idea is beyond dumb. That man—the addict. Was he your brother?”

My hostage-taker was very startled. He tried not to show it, but he was completely taken aback. I knew from his reaction that my guess was right, and he knew that I knew.

I said, “Something about the way you talked about him … something made me think, on the way here, that he was your brother.”

“It’s because I’m the only person you see that you become hypersensitive to everything I say and the way I say it,” he said, avoiding the question.

“Let’s not talk anymore. You’ll stay the night like you promised?”

“Did I promise?”

“Yes.”

“How about I stay until you fall asleep?”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Kimmy Xuan
good morning hun! I know you weren’t happy with the whole Win A Date With Chloe idea, but I watched it of course along with everyone else (ratings through the roof apparently) and it really wasn’t bad. The guys were really cool and they ALL talked about the campaign. And that dude from NBA—wow! In the end it was harmless fun and a good way of keeping her in the news which is what we’re trying to do, no?

15 minutes ago   Comment   Like   Wall-to-wall

Angie Shaw
Thanks, Kimmy for being so positive. It’s just that all the laughing and joking seems wrong when it’s possible that Chloe is being raped and tortured. But I’m being hypersensitive I know. The counselor at school keeps reminding us that the best thing we can do for Chloe is keep our spirits up. Chloe might be very excited about dating at least one of those guys esp with that cruise package. But everything depends on what shape she’s in when she gets back.

11 minutes ago   Comment   Like   Wall-to-wall

Jeanette Persky
She’s coming back to hot dates and a LOT of money for selling her story. I think that can make up for whatever she went through.

8 minutes ago   Comment   Like   Wall-to-wall

Angie Shaw
I can’t believe you said that. Read Telling by Patricia Weaver. If Chloe’s going through hell she might NEVER recover, or it could take years and years. Sorry if I’m coming across too strong.

6 minutes ago   Comment   Like   Wall-to-wall

Jeanette Persky
yeah you completely misunderstood I was trying to do what you were saying which is be upbeat but I guess it’s impossible to talk to you these days.

3 minutes ago   Comment   Like   Wall-to-wall

Angie Shaw
sorry sorry sorry. yes I misunderstood. Didn't mean to go all crazy on you. Come to the meeting tonight, my place at 7, my mom's making enchiladas. luv u.

1 minute ago   Comment   Like   Wall-to-wall

CHAPTER 23

The terrifying sound of machine-gun fire woke me up. I knew instantly what the sound was—I had no doubt at all. I reached out frantically for my hostage-taker, but he wasn’t there. He’d left while I was sleeping.

I didn’t know what to think—panic had frozen not only my body but also my brain. Was it the police, had they found out about me? Would they come tearing down to the basement looking for me?

Or were these friends of the addict? Were they here to take revenge?

I grabbed the quilt, wrapped it around myself, and rolled under the bed. My heart was beating so hard I was sure anyone who came into the room would hear it, and I was shaking, or rather shuddering, from head to toe.

There was another burst of gunfire, though it seemed more distant now—maybe the gunmen were on the upper floor of the house.

And then it was quiet. The quiet seemed eerie. No footsteps, no one leaving, no cars driving away. What if everyone in the house was dead?

I stayed under the bed for a long time. The panic receded as the minutes ticked by—the longer I waited, the less likely it was that they’d come downstairs looking for me. I was very confused—I didn’t know what to do, what to think.

I must have dozed off eventually, cocooned inside the soft quilt, because I dreamed I came out of my room and began creeping slowly upstairs when suddenly I saw a severed hand on the stairs. I knew I mustn’t scream; instead I forced myself to wake up.

After what seemed like an eternity there was a knock on the door and I heard my hostage-taker’s voice saying, “Chloe?”

I scrambled out from under the bed. “You’re alive!” I cried out.

“Yes, were you worried?”

“Well, of course I was worried! What happened? I was hiding under the bed all night.”

“Why were you hiding?”

“The shooting, of course!”

“Chloe, there hasn’t been any shooting. You must have had a bad dream.”

“I didn’t dream it—I heard it. Machine-gun fire and heavy footsteps.”

“There wasn’t anything like that.”

“Where were you?” I asked frantically. I couldn’t have dreamed it—it was impossible. He must have been away and didn’t know what had happened in his absence.

“I’ve been upstairs the entire time. No one’s been here.”

“What time is it?”

“8:15.”

I sat down on the bed and tried to gather my thoughts. Maybe being enclosed in such a small room was making me hallucinate. But it had seemed so real. I began to cry with confusion, frustration, relief.