If Only She'd Loved Him

Thursday 2:01am

Megan shivered, fighting back the icicles that dripped through her body.  Hand resting lightly on her arm, her kidnapper felt the hairs rise on her skin.  He sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

She couldn't resist her answer.  "You could let me go," she whispered as loudly as she dared. 

He laughed out loud.  "Why in the world would I have gone to so much trouble to get you, just to let you go?  You're not dumb, Megan; don't act it."

"Why?"

"Why what?" His voice was tolerant, almost amused as if he'd anticipated her question and was toying with her for asking it.

"Why did you choose me?  Why are you doing this?  Are you ever going to let me go?  Are you going to hurt me?  Are you going to kill me?"  She couldn't help herself.  The words tumbled out of her mouth, getting louder and faster with each question she asked.

In an instant she stopped.  She shrank back in the chair, petrified of what he would do, what he would say, but at the same time desperate to know what was going to happen to her.  She didn't expect his reaction.  His fingers gently began to stroke her arm, almost petting her, trying to soothe her.

"Megan, I need you to understand, I am not going to hurt you.  I am doing all this because I love you."       

"Love me?" she shot back.  "I don't even know who you are.  You can't love me."

"But I know who you are.  And that's enough."

She changed tactics.  "If you love me, you'll let me go."

He laughed.  "No wonder you got a C in Psych.  I thought you were smarter than that, sweetheart," he mocked, then he mimicked her own voice. "'If you love me, you'll let me go,' please.  We both know I am not going to do that, so stop asking me.  In fact," he threatened, "if you mention it once more, you're going in the trunk.  We still have a long ride ahead of us, and I don't feel like listening to you whine.  Accept it, just accept it."

She exploded.  "Accept this?!  No! Never!"  Her hands twisted frantically as she longed to punch him in the face.  "Who are you anyway?"

"I told you, I'd tell you who I was all in good time.  Now just relax and be quiet. You're getting on my nerves."

"Tell me who you are and I'll stop."

"That's it!  I warned you your curiosity was going to get you in trouble, but obviously you weren't paying attention." With one twist of his arm, he spun the car off the road.  Megan heard her death in his voice.  Crouching low in the seat, she tried to make herself as small as possible as she pleaded for her life.

"No, please, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to—"

His breath snarled, wet and heavy in the dark.  He yanked the sunglasses off her face, breaking the band with a vicious snap.

"You wanted to see what I looked like?  Here." 

Grabbing the top of her head, he forced her to look up at him.  Megan saw iced green eyes staring down at her.  Dark brown hair fell across his forehead in waves but did nothing to soften the fury in his face.  She'd never seen such anger in someone she knew. 

But thank God!  She began to cry.  It was just Erik.  Her ex-boyfriend from this summer.  She'd been so scared and now she was safe.  He was playing some game.  He might even be, she reasoned, still mad about the breakup. But he won't hurt me, not really.  I bet he feels guilty about what he's done to me already, and he should too.  It hurt, but I can use all that.  Oh, I'm not going to die, Thank you God, thank you!  She cried inside her head, then a smile broke across her face, raw, pure relief.  But Erik wasn't smiling, he wasn't laughing, and he should be laughing now that the joke was over.  Megan's smile began to slip off her lips.  Erik looked upset, and he still held her hair in his hand.  Her smile died.