Totally Transformed

Chapter 1: Best Laid Plans

I held the hot coffee cup in my hands. I loved the smell of coffee. There was just something soothing about it.

It was late in the evening, after work. This coffee shop would close soon. But I was here for a very important and special reason.

She sat down across from me, at our small little round table I’d chosen in a quiet corner near the back of the shop.

“Hey Colin, sorry I’m late,” she said. She looked completely exhausted and flustered. Her shoulder-length hair – wavy dark brown with blonde highlights – was a mess. Her eyes looked so tired. They’d been looking that way for a long time, actually. Her baggy and casual clothes seemed like an afterthought – something she threw on this morning in a hurry, not really caring how she looked.

Tara was my wife’s older sister. She was in her mid-40s now, but we first met back when I was in college. I needed help passing one of my classes, and as a new part-time teaching assistant, she tutored me. We hit it off instantly. I always liked her. She was smart, pretty, had a great sense of humor. Unfortunately, she was also engaged – so it was never meant to be between us. But if it wasn’t for her, I never would’ve met her sister Claire, the girl of my dreams, the woman I later married.

And that’s what brought us here today, in this little hole in the wall coffee shop, after work on a Tuesday.

“It’s good to see you,” I told her.

She chuckled it off, knowing full well how worn-down she looked.

“How are the kids?” I asked.

“They don’t warn you how tough it is raising teenage daughters. Oh my God, Colin, I swear – I love them, I really do, but some days…” She trailed off in thought. “It’s just a lot.”

I nodded, not really understanding. Claire and I never had any kids, even though we were both in our mid-30s now. Not that we were against it or anything. We wanted kids, someday. But Claire worked at a non-profit and it took me a while to find a decent job. You’d think with a mechanical engineering degree, I’d have plenty of high-paying options, but entry-level jobs only provided entry-level salaries. It didn’t matter what someone studied in college, nobody made that much money for the first few years in any career.

Claire and I wanted to wait until we were financially ready and could buy a home, before we started a family. Technically, that time was now. We bought a nice starter home in the suburbs. I was making pretty good money now. But… something unexpected happened.

We still loved each other. I’d do anything for her. But over the years, due to no one’s fault, we just stopped being “intimate” that often. We both just got so busy with our careers. We never had time to go on dates. We were too tired to, you know, fool around much. There was still sex on birthdays and holidays and stuff. But honestly, over the years, our sex life had become pretty stale and mechanical. We just found ourselves doing it less and less. It sucked. This wasn’t the future we imagined for ourselves when we first got married. But here we were.

However, next month Claire and I were celebrating our 10^th anniversary. I wanted to do something special for her. For us. Not just to celebrate 10 years of being married. But also to bring us back to our origins, back to how the relationship started. Reignite that “spark” between us. Revive our sex life together.

I’d been wracking my brain for months trying to figure out what to do. A big romantic date? Sure, that’d be great, but what exactly? Maybe a horse-drawn carriage ride through the city, like in one of those rom-com movies she loved so much? A trip to Paris to renew our vows in front of the Eiffel Tower? We never made it to Hawaii for our honeymoon. We couldn’t afford it at the time. Maybe we should finally have our dream honeymoon there, just ten years late…?

But what else could I do? All these ideas sounded good, but I wanted to do something great, something special, something unforgettable.

Something that would bring us closer together than ever before and reinspire that passion and romance we once felt for each other back when we were younger.

Fortunately, there was one person who knew Claire even better than me. Her older sister, Tara. And that’s what brought the two of us to this coffee shop this evening. It was the only night Tara had off, where she wasn’t taking one of her kids to a band rehearsal or cheerleading at a school game or something. No homework papers to grade or tests to prepare – Tara was a full-time high school teacher now. No PTA meetings to attend or afterschool detentions to supervise.

And I thought I was busy!

Tara sipped the coffee I’d bought her. “So you want to do something special for Claire?” she asked, always happy to help others, no matter how tired she was personally. “I have a few ideas.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Well, when we were little, she used to be fascinated by everything related to Australia. Even said she wanted to be a ‘kangaroo doctor’ when she grew up.” Tara chuckled playfully at that. “I know they give tours of the Outback. Like a safari, only in Australia. I bet she’d love that.”

Hmm. I thought about it. Maybe. But didn’t seem romantic enough.

“She loves Italian food. You could take her to that hot new restaurant downtime.”

Eh. Too cliché and uninspired.

We sat there in awkward silence for a minute.

Then Tara said, “Not that it’s any of my business, and honestly, I don’t need to know any details, but… is there anything ‘kinky’ she’s been wanting to do, that you haven’t done yet?”

I thought about it. That would spice things up a bit. Claire actually shared with me once, years ago, that she had a secret fantasy of me ‘kidnapping’ her at work, tying her up, and dumping her into the trunk of my car… then driving off to the middle of nowhere where I’d ‘rape’ her. Which totally surprised me when she said that, because she’s not that kind of girl. But I guessed we all have our own secret little taboo dark fantasies. Stuff that we’d never want to have happen in real life – but within play, with a loved one, when you know you’re actually safe the entire time, it could be a lot of fun. Hmm. Should I do something like that with Claire?

“And you think she’d enjoy that, for a ten-year anniversary gift?” I asked Tara.

Tara laughed. “Hell yeah! What, you think only guys have kinky fantasies? Don’t judge whatever turns her on. Just do it. And trust me, she’ll thinking about and remembering that night for years after.”

I took another swig of my coffee, finishing it off. I thought about Tara’s suggestion some more. I started nodding my head. Putting a small plan together.

Maybe one day I could surprise her at work, pick her up… and as soon as she got to the car, bind her up in some rope, dump her in the trunk like she fantasized, drive away to somewhere remote.

“Okay, yeah. I’ve got an idea.”

I’d have to pick a good spot ahead of time. Maybe even have a blanket, picnic basket, cooler with some wine in it for afterwards. Somewhere private, maybe out in the woods, or something. Yeah, I bet she’d like that.

“Good.” Tara checked the time on her phone. “Not to cut this short, it’s always good seeing you Colin, but… it’s a school night.”

“Right,” I said. It was getting late. “Thanks,” I quickly added, before she got up. I wasn’t sure how to say this next part. “You know how much I love your sister. Things… just haven’t been that, well, as good as they could be lately,” I said. “And I don’t want us to end up like you and Sam. No offense.”

“None taken,” she replied.

“How’s the marriage counseling going?”

“It’s… going. We’re making some progress. But it’s a lot of work.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.

“Don’t be. I probably should’ve never married him. I knew he was wrong for me. All my friends said so at the time, too. But he was hot. Had great hair, nice arms, a lot of confidence about himself and life and us. He was sure we were meant to be together, and I just believed him. I didn’t listen to my gut. And of course, the sex was great.”

“But you deserve to be happy,” I said.

She shrugged. “I have responsibilities now. Maybe after my girls are off to college and doing fine on their own. But right now?” She shook her head. “This is just my life.”

Chapter 2: Ghosts from the Past

We ended up talking until the shop closed. Even though we didn’t see each other that often because of work and kids and everything, Tara always felt like a best friend to me. I had some guy buddies too. But that was different. With the guys, we’d just hang out drinking beer while watching the game. Or they’d be over for a Fourth of July BBQ giving me tips on how to “better” cook my meats. Or we’d complain about what clueless idiots our bosses at work were. Normal guy stuff. It was cool. I enjoyed hanging out with them. But with Tara, I just felt like I could be myself. It was nice.

After the coffee shop closed, we walked out into the mostly-empty parking lot heading back to our separate cars. There were a couple other cars still parked around, probably the store employees who were still back inside cleaning up and counting down the register.

It was a New Moon that night. So the sky was especially dark. A few sparse street lights cast an eerie amber glow into sections of the parking lot, but overall it was pretty dark here. I wasn’t worried. We were in the suburbs. Nothing bad ever happened here.

I walked with Tara to her car. We stopped right behind it.

“This is me,” she said.

I nodded. “Thanks again, Tara. It means a lot.” I gave her a hug.

“Anytime, bro,” she said.

Then we both heard a strange giggle from the distance.

Not like “I just heard a funny joke” kind of giggle. Something more… dark, twisted, almost sinister.

I was facing the other way. But Tara saw the source of that giggle.

She broke our hug. “Colin,” she whispered. “Look.”

I turned around. In the next row over, casually walking towards us, was a face I hadn’t seen in months. Someone from my past. Someone, before that recent encounter, I hadn’t seen in almost 10 years.

“Mandy?” I asked, surprised to see her again. I immediately felt uneasy. This girl was trouble. She was my ex – the girl I dated right before I started dating Claire. She took the breakup hard, but that was almost a decade ago. I’d assumed she’d moved on since then; any sane normal person would. But then she “popped up” in my life again a few months ago. We passed in the halls of my office, of all places. No idea what she was doing there. She certainly didn’t work at my company. She saw me, recognized me, tried being flirty and said she never forgot me and wanted to get together with me.

I, of course, clearly told her I was married and not interested. To which she replied my wife “didn’t have to know” about us. I still refused. She didn’t take it well.

And now, here she was again, approaching me in this empty dark parking lot late at night. What did she want?

“You know Colin,” she said, approaching closer, “we could’ve had a lot of fun. You have no idea just how good I am. I could’ve made you feel pleasures like you’ve never—”

“That’s enough, Mandy!” I quickly interrupted. “I told you, I married.”

“And I told you, that doesn’t matter.” She looked to Tara standing next to me. “Hmm. Interesting. A bonus.”

Mandy stood only a few feet away now, where she stopped and eyed me up and down.

This was so uncomfortable. I didn’t want to be mean, but this girl wasn’t getting the hint. I wasn’t interested. Nothing was going to happen between us. I mean, what she attractive? Yes, of course. I dated her right before I met and fell in love with Claire. She’s totally my type. And, surprisingly, time’s been really kind to her. She looks like she hasn’t aged a day in the last ten years. Still had the face, body, and perky breasts of a girl in her early 20s. Lucky her. But that didn’t matter. She was my ex for a reason. And I was happily married with Claire now. I wasn’t about to jeopardize my marriage or break Claire’s heart just to have a fling hook-up with my crazy ex.

“You chose the wrong woman,” Mandy told me.

For some reason, Mandy always saw and treated Claire as her personal rival in everything. Boys, outfits, GPAs… whatever Claire had, Mandy was determined to have one better. She couldn’t be happy unless Claire was miserable. I’ll never understand women. Guys aren’t like that. Men support each other and celebrate each other’s successes. Women, especially women like Mandy, seemed to be in competition with every other woman on the planet, and in Mandy’s case, in competition with Claire most of all.

I didn’t ask for any of this. And I didn’t know about their little petty girl rivalry until after I dumped her and started dating Claire. Mandy was a bit of a stalker at first, but after college we all moved away and life took us in separate directions. I thought, I’d hoped, I had assumed we saw the last of Mandy. But then by some random coincidence our paths crossed at work and now she wouldn’t leave me alone again.

I didn’t want to have to get a restraining order on her.

And then Mandy said, “But if I can’t have you, neither will Claire. Or any other straight woman, for that matter.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“Last chance, Colin. Drop the bitch and return to me.”

“Hey!” Tara remarked over her sister being called a “bitch”.

“We’re soulmates,” Mandy said. “We’re destined to be together – one way or another.”

I sighed and shook my head. I tried to be as polite, but also as clear and firm, as possible. “No, Mandy. It’s over. We’ll never be together. Look, I’m sorry things didn’t work out. But… I’m married now and I’ll never cheat on my wife.”

She smugly smiled. “We’ll see about that.”

And then she stepped back.

Was she finally walking away?

Just then, an unmarked black van parked in the shadows in front of us suddenly switched on its high beams, instantly blinding me and Tara. Its tires screeched, racing forward, skidding to a halt right next to us.

Two masked men, wearing all black, jumped out. What was going on? Before either of us could reaction, one man grabbed me as the other guy snatched Tara.

“Get in the van!” one of them shouted. He picked up and tossed Tara inside like she weighed nothing to him. Her purse – along with her phone, ID, credit cards, and everything else – fell to the pavement and splattered its contents across the asphalt. I quickly turned to make a run for it, but the other guy immediately reached out and firmly gripped my arm before I could get away.

“You too,” he said. Then he and the other guy suddenly grabbed me. Suddenly my feet were off the ground. I struggled to break free. But these two guys were so much stronger than me. A second later, I felt myself flying through the air, thrown straight into the van – crashing hard into Tara across the back seat.

The two men jumped in after us, immediately sliding the van door shut behind them. Tires screeched again. The van sped off with all of us inside.

My heart beat so fast. What was happening? Were we actually being kidnapped? Why?!

I heard a metallic click. “Ow!” Tara yelled. “Let me go! Let me go!” I looked over and saw her in handcuffs, freshly placed by one of the goons.

“Tara!” I exclaimed.

Then I heard – and felt –metal handcuffs slap and lock across my own wrists.

“What the fuck?!” I looked up at the thug who’d just handcuffed me. “What are you doing?! Release me, right now!” I demanded.

The man just chuckled.

Handcuffed or not, I had to get away. Space was tight inside this van. But I had to get out of there. Had to escape. I’d never jumped from a moving vehicle before, but it wasn’t like I had any other option. I stood up, about to make a break for it.

Click.

I looked down. The other guy had just clasped another pair of handcuffs around me ankle – and a small metal bar bolted into the van floor, specifically for this purpose.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

Click. And now neither was Tara.

One of the men shouted at us, “Both of you, shut up and sit down!”

The other man said, a little more calmly, “We’re not going to hurt you. We just want the ransom money.”

“Ransom?!” I remarked. “What the hell are you talking about? We don’t have any money. You got the wrong people!”

The two men looked at each other.

“He’s right,” said Tara, struggling to break free from her metal chain to the floor. It was no use. We were stuck, trapped. Prisoners. “I’m a teacher!” she exclaimed. “So’s my husband!”

One of the men pushed Tara down onto the seat. The other guy tried doing the same to me. I resisted, pushed back. But then the first guy joined him and together then forced me down onto the chair.

“There’s no point in fighting this,” one of them said.

I swallowed nervously.

“Please,” I said. “There’s gotta be some mistake. I don’t have any money either.”

One of the guys asked, “You’re Colin, Mandy’s ex, right?”

I was afraid to answer.

He seemed to smile behind his mask. “We got the right one.” He turned to look at Tara. “And you’re a bonus. The boss will be pleased.”

The other guy asked, “What reward you think he’ll give us for a two-for-one?”

“I’m gonna ask for a bigger dick,” the first man said.

“You got that last time!” said the second.

“It can always be bigger.”

What on Earth were they talking about?

“Look,” I said, “I don’t know what Mandy told you, but neither of our families are rich. But I’ll give you what I have. I don’t have any cash on me right now, but –”

One of the men interrupted me. “I told you to shut up. You’re not a very good listener, are you?”

“Please, I’ll pay whatever I can!”

The other man moved closer to me. Like, really close. Face to face, uncomfortably close, like he was about to kiss me or something. He grabbed my chin and forced my head side to side. Then quickly glanced down at my chest. “If the boss doesn’t get his full ransom… I can’t wait to see what they do to you.”

The other guy gave a sinister laugh. Like he knew something.

“Please, just let us go,” Tara pleaded, holding back the tears to try to stay strong. “You’re masked, no one ever said any names, we couldn’t identify you if we wanted to. Please, just let us go and we promise not to call the police!”

“I told you to shut up, cunt!” the first man yelled, slapping her across the face.

“Leave her alone!” I yelled.

He turned and smacked my face even harder than he hit hers. It stung my cheek. “That goes for you too, bitch.”

Tara couldn’t keep back her tears any longer. She started crying. Audibly. Uncontrollably. Sobbing loudly.

“Please,” she begged, “I have kids.”

“Not another word from you,” said the man. He grabbed a nearby roll of duct tape and tore a large piece off. Tara’s eyes went wide with terror as he moved to place it over her mouth.

“No, please, no – I mphf! Mphf!!!”

Then he came for me.

I panicked. Heart racing. “Please, I’ll be quiet, I swear!”

He pulled out an extra long piece of duct tape. The other guy grabbed my head and held me in place. I struggled to break free. But they were both just so strong! The tape covered my mouth. And he wrapped it entirely around my head – three times!

I could barely breathe through my nose.

I looked at these two men through terrified eyes. I tried to speak. I begged to be let go. I said they were making a big mistake. I pleaded for them to just listen to us!

But I couldn’t move my lips. My mouth was firmly sealed shut. Only unintelligible muffles came out.

“That’ll hold him,” said one of the men.

I watched them both.

Satisfied Tara and I were silenced and securely locked down, the two men took their own seats in front of us and turned to keep an eye on us.

I felt the vibrations of the road beneath us as the van continued speeding towards our distant destination.

There were no windows. They’d all been painted over and blacked out. I had no idea where we were going.

I looked over at Tara, who looked back at me through tear-filled eyes.

Oh my God, why was this happening to us? What was I going to do?

I tried to think. Tried to calm myself down.

Slowed my breathing. Not that I could breathe very much through my nose. But I needed to be calm. Keep a cool head.

Think this through.

What were my options?

With my ankle chained to the floor and handcuffs around my wrists, in a small van traveling at what felt like highway speeds, with two muscular and clearly experienced kidnapper criminals watching over me – my options were limited.

Technically, zero.

I had zero options right now.

I needed to be calm for Tara. Strong for Tara. She was an emotional mess. So it was up to me to think and reason my way through this.

I thought about it logically.

They just wanted money.

Once they realized Tara and I were telling the truth and neither of us had any money, we’d be of no value to them. They’d lose interest in us. Like Tara said, they’d been wearing masks the entire time. We couldn’t identify them if we wanted to. So they were safe. If they let us go, there’d be no way to trace things back to them.

Hopefully they really only did want money, and these weren’t the “kill useless prisoners” type.

Claire listened to all the true crime podcasts, not me. But from the parts I overheard, murderers were very different kinds of people than kidnappers looking for a payday. Killing us wouldn’t give them what they wanted, and only attract more heat from the cops.

Of course, I also realized, severing a finger or ear would send a clear message without killing the hostage, too.

I swallowed nervously.

I had to find a way out of this.

Tara still looked like she was about to cry some more, but for the moment, she’d pulled herself together and sat in silence, constantly looking at me and the two thugs. I could only imagine what was going through her mind.

As for me, all I could think about was Claire. What was the last thing I said to her? Did I at least tell her I loved her, before I left for work this morning? Did she even know where I was? I met Tara in secret, so my gift to her for our 10^th anniversary would be a surprise. Did Claire think I was still stuck working late at the office? How long before she texted me to ask when I’d be coming home – and how long after that, before she got worried and called the police?

But I did have one small ray of hope. I still had my cell phone on me. And it was sharing my location with her.

Chapter 3: Chained Together

The van drove for what felt like hours. Maybe it wasn’t actually that long. I couldn’t tell. In situations like this, seconds lasted for days.

Finally, the van came to a stop.

“We’re here,” said one of the men.

“Listen, so here’s the deal,” said the other. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You want to do this the easy way?”

Both Tara and I nodded, unable to speak.

“Good. There’s no point in running,” he said. “There’s nothing for miles. There’s wildlife in the woods that, I promise you, is a lot less friendly than we’ve been to you. The property’s also surrounded by cameras, electric fences, and armed guards trained to shoot any trespassers – or would-be escapees – on sight. If you cooperate and come peacefully, no one will harm you. We just want our money. Understood?”

Tara and I both nodded emphatically.

The other guy temporarily unlocked Tara’s ankle cuff from the bolted bar in the floor. He then moved it over to my ankle cuff, unhooked me from the floor, and immediately latched me and Tara together.

“Alright, let’s go.”

He opened the van door, hopped out, and extended a hand to help me and Tara down out of the van.

Both our wrists were still handcuffed. And now my left leg was chained to her right leg at the ankle. Walking slowly together was feasible, but trying to make a run for it now would be awkward and cumbersome at best.

Slowly, together, we got out of the van. And our feet touched solid ground.

I looked around. Where were we?

It was the middle of the night and totally dark. Impossible to get a good view of anything. But we were far away enough from the city to see most of the stars up in the night sky. And I could see the tree ridge line along the horizon – we seemed to be surrounded by dense forest on all sides. Just one narrow road leading deep into it, with a massive metal gate blocking the way. I don’t think he was kidding about the electrified fences, either. The front gate had small red warning lights, and an illuminated yellow sign warning of exactly that – specifying it as lethal danger.

“This way,” said the other man.

I turned around. I saw what I could only describe as a creepy castle mansion. It was three stories high, built with towering gray stone brick walls, including several large bay windows, and steepled roofs that came to deadly sharp points at the top. Something Gothic, Victorian, intimidating, looming – yet also somehow grand and elegant. Random windows and rooms inside were well-lit, indicating it had modern electricity and active people inside, even in the middle of the night. The outside of the building displayed an old-world sense of grandeur, but considering the electric fences and other clues, the inside was likely upgraded with a lot of modern technology. I could only guess. But I also figured we were about to find out.

The two men grabbed us – one tightly clutching Tara’s left arm, the other digging his fingers into my right shoulder – and led us toward the large house.

Tara was only about 5’5”, a whole seven inches shorter than me. So needless to say, our gaits were a little different from each other. But we were tied to each other’s ankles, so we had to learn to walk in lockstep. I purposely took smaller steps, so she could easily keep pace with me. Still, my efforts weren’t enough. Without warning, suddenly she tripped and fell down into the dirt – taking me with her.

And my phone flew out of my pocket.

“Get up!” demanded one of the men.

The other one looked at my phone in the dirt. He chuckled knowingly. “You realize that doesn’t do you any good, right?”

I looked up at him.

“Both the van and our entire property are protected by radio jammers and GPS blockers. No signals go in or out without our say-so.”

I immediately had a sinking feeling. So much for sharing my location with Claire. And these guys clearly weren’t amateur kidnappers.

The other guy said, “Alright, enough talk. Let’s go, on your feet.”

I helped Tara slowly get back up. I tried to say “sorry” for tripping her, but it was muffled through my duct-taped mouth. Still, she seemed to understand.

Carefully, paying close attention to each other, we took one step, then another, and another.

One guy purposely slammed the heel of his boot into my phone, cracking and smashing it. I remembered Tara had dropped her purse and phone back at the parking lot when they grabbed us. Now neither of us had any way to call for help, even if we could somehow get past their security measures.

Our masked captors led us forward. One step at a time. Until, eventually, we arrived at the front door and were shoved inside the mansion.

They took us down a hallway. Past countless rooms. Deep inside. Around a corner. Down another hall.

Until finally we reached a certain door and the men stopped us. “In here,” one of them said. The other pressed his hand against a metal plate by the door. It seemed to scan him. A green light appeared above the metal plate. The door unlocked.

He forcibly pushed Tara inside, and with me attached to her ankle, I found myself stumbling inside with her.

As soon as we were in, the door slammed shut and made a loud, audible deadbolt locking sound.

The two men remained outside. Now it was just me and Tara, inside this room, alone.

A very strange, unexpected room.

I was expecting like a basement or dungeon or something. Maybe even a closet somewhere, I didn’t know. But nothing like this.

We were in a bedroom.

Like a normal bedroom, inside this mansion.

It had a large queen-size bed, with a pair of maroon-colored pillows and silky black sheets. There was a nightstand, dresser, even a large flatscreen TV mounted to the wall. Aside from the deadbolt locking door, this otherwise seemed like an ordinary bedroom. A little on the small side, considering we were inside a mansion. Maybe only 12 feet by 10 feet, I’d estimate. Not a whole lot of room. The bed took up most of the space.

At least we’d be comfortable and have a place to sleep, I figured. Although Tara and I would have to share that bed. A little awkward, but this wasn’t a vacation. Maybe our captors were telling the truth. They didn’t want to hurt us. They only wanted money.

Which, now that I thought about it, seemed odd. This mansion we were in had to be worth a small fortune. Not that I knew anything about kidnapping or ransoms. Maybe this was their home and the bank was about to foreclose on them or something. But I had a feeling something else was going on here. Something wasn’t adding up.

Mandy knew where I worked. And crazy ex that she was, I still didn’t see her as the “ransom people for money” type. She just wanted to be with me. And made that weird comment about how if she couldn’t have me, nobody else would either. Jealous? Yes. Stalker? Definitely. But kidnapping for ransom? That didn’t seem like her.

But those guys nabbed us right as she stepped back, to get out of the way. She had to be connected to them somehow. She wasn’t screaming or freaking out when they kidnapped us, either. She must be in on it.

But how? Why? Mandy knew I wasn’t rich. She knew Claire worked for a non-profit. And what did ransom money have to do with anything? Stealing money from me wasn’t going to make me want to divorce Claire and start dating Mandy…

Tara made an excited, muffled noise. She tapped me on my shoulder to get my attention.

I turned. She pointed. I looked.

Could it be?

No way.

On the nightstand, beside the bed, appeared to be a small metal key. Same color as our handcuffs. The right size for them too.

Still needing to walk in sync together, we stepped over to the nightstand. I grabbed the key. Tara held her hands out. I inserted the key into the lock. Turned it. Click. Her handcuffs unlocked!

Her eyes lit up. She made an excited sound. I handed her the key, held my wrists out, and she unlocked me next!

God, it felt good to get those off my wrists. Quickly, she squatted down and unlocked the cuffs around our ankles. Click. Released!

Slowly, painfully, she began peeling the duct tape off her mouth.

Mine was a bit more complicated. They’d wrapped it completely around my head three whole times.

“Hold still, I got you,” Tara told me, her lips now free to speak again. Using her fingernails, she peeled off the end of the duct tape on the back of my head. It was caught in all my hair.

Ow, ow, ow, OWWWW!!!

Slowly she peeled it away.

“Sorry!” she empathized.

One layer over my mouth, now removed. The front was the easy part. She continued peeling the tape away. Some stuck to the skin on my cheeks. It hurt, but I was tough. I grinned and bared through it. Then, behind my head, it pulled against more hairs.

Damn that hurt!

If my hair wasn’t so short, this might not have been so bad. But it was literally pulling against my scalp, to remove the tape from my head.

Fuck me, that stung!

Finally, she worked around to the side of my face. Pulling against more skin. I wished we had some rubbing alcohol or something to help remove this. But this was our only option.

Second layer removed from over my mouth.

I braced myself. Okay. Last turn.

This final stretch hurt the worst.

Like a million tiny pricks, all along the sides and back of my head, as she slowly and painfully peeled off the final last bit of tape. She pulled off a bunch of stray hairs in the process. Then around my face. The tape was stuck to my beard. Fuck me! Was this even ordinary duct tape or some kind of super torture tape? It pulled against my facial hairs. Refused to let go of my lips. Slowly, painfully, with her saying “sorry” over and over again, until finally – oh my God – it was over.

The torture tape was fully off my face. I could speak again!

“God damn!” I exclaimed.

“Sorry,” she apologized again.

I rubbed my sore face and lips. “No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault,” I said. I let out a huge sigh. At least that was over!

“Nice of them to leave us a key,” Tara said.

Huh. Yeah. Nice, but odd.

“What are we gonna do, Colin?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I looked around the room. “We need to take inventory, see what our options are, maybe there’s something in here we can use to escape…” I walked over to the dresser and began opening drawers.

Panties. Bras. Lingerie. Socks. Nothing useful.

I searched the closet next. Several dresses and other feminine outfits were hung inside. A rack of different colors and types of shoes – high heels, platforms, sneakers, even flip-flops, but all feminine and girly – sat along the floor.

Maybe I could take the metal from the hangers and fasten it into a lockpick somehow? No. Too thick and not malleable enough.

I inspected the nightstand by the bed. They left us keys to unlock our handcuffs here. Maybe they were generous – or stupid – enough to leave a room key inside the nightstand drawer? I opened it. Nope, just a bunch of jewelry. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets. I sighed.

Apparently some woman normally lived in this room and we were just temporarily using it until our kidnappers got their ransom money.

“You finding anything?” Tara asked me.

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

There was a bay window at the far wall. I hurried over to that. Maybe we could escape out that way.

I could see the grounds outside – including the electrified gate blocking our only exit off this property. Teasing us, taunting us. Within view, yet still so far away.

I inspected the windows. No locks. No latches. No levers. No way to open them. Maybe we could break the glass? I needed a brick or rock or metal rod or something. I looked around the room. The bed pillows wouldn’t do. The jewelry was too small and fragile. The clothes were worthless.

Screw it.

I was desperate.

I took several steps back.

“Colin… what are you doing?”

I ran for the window, hard as I could, slamming into it with my shoulder.

“OW!” I almost dislocated my shoulder.

The glass didn’t seem to buckle at all.

I tried again.

Slam!

“OWWW!!!!”

“Colin!” Tara yelled.

I wasn’t giving up.

I threw myself at the glass again.

I heard something snap.

It wasn’t the glass.

It was my shoulder. I definitely popped it out of its socket that time.

“Colin, STOP!” Tara pleaded.

I rubbed my dislocated shoulder. It felt like fire shooting through it. And I couldn’t move my arm like normal. I tried to stay strong, be tough… but the pain was almost unbearable.

“Let me see that,” she said.

“I think I dislocated it.”

I walked towards her. Tara was sitting on the edge of the bed. So I sat down next to her.

“Let me see,” she said softly to me.

She looked at my shoulder. It was already showing signs of bruising.

“Okay, hold still. I know what to do.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “My dad taught me when I was little. He was a nurse. Just lay on your back and hold still.”

I wasn’t sure I could trust her, but the pain was getting worse and I doubted our captors would let me see a doctor right now.

“The key is, we don’t want to further tear any muscles, ligaments, or tendons. Or damage your nerves or blood vessels.”

Now I felt really nervous.

“Trust me.”

I swallowed hard. Okay. I laid down on the bed, on my back.

She took my limp arm and held it out from my body at a ninety degree angle. She firmly grabbed my hand and slowly, putting her body weight into it, pulled on my arm.

I heard a soft clunk and felt my shoulder pop back into position.

The pain immediately dropped significantly. It was still a little sore, still throbbing a bit, but much, much better now.

“I think you did it!”

She smiled. “See, I told you that you could trust me!”

“Remind me to believe you if I ever need to trust you again!”

I gently massaged my shoulder. Moved it around slightly, to make sure everything was in place properly. I seemed to be back to normal. Thank God.

“How about no more slamming our bodies into solid walls from now on, okay?” she playfully asked me.

“I thought maybe—”

“It’s probably bulletproof or something,” she said. “If they put a deadbolt lock on the door, I doubt they would’ve overlooked something as obvious as a window.”

“Good point,” I said.

She looked around the room and sighed. “Like it or not, this is our home for now. Hopefully not for too long.”

“How are we gonna get out of here?”

Tara simply shook her head, a lost and hopeless look in her eyes. “I don’t know, Colin,” she said. “How much money do you think they want?”

“Maybe I can take a second mortgage on the house and cash in my 401(k)… I hope it’s enough.”

“And what about me? They said I was a ‘bonus’. Sam and I don’t have anything we can tap into!”

She started to panic. I needed to keep her calm, level-headed, focused. “Just breathe,” I said. “We’ll figure this out. Once they realize they’ve made a mistake, they’ll have to let us go. Right?”

She nodded, hopefully. But not entirely confidently.

I rubbed my shoulder some more.

“Does it still hurt?”

“A little,” I said. “Not much. The pain’s mostly gone.”

“Good,” she said. Then abruptly, “Colin, I’m scared.”

“I know. Me too.”

We were kidnapped late at night in a mostly empty parking lot. My wife was probably wondering where I was by now, assuming she didn’t go to bed early and just figured I had to work really late. But even if she knew I was missing – where would she tell the police to start looking?

I looked around the room again. I had to find a way out. There must be some way to escape. Okay, so these guys used a lot of high-technology – hand palm scanner locks, GPS blockers, deadly-voltage electric fences around the property, and who knew what else. But this wasn’t exactly Fort Knox, either. I was a mechanical engineer, not a computer engineer, but still, there’s a lot of overlap. Maybe I could find a way to hack their technology somehow. Maybe I could…

Suddenly, I heard a faint hissing sound. Subtle. Soft. Barely noticeable.

“Colin?” Tara’s voice trembled. “What’s that?” She pointed at the air vent above the door.

“What the hell?”

A strange misty pink smoke slowly drifted out of the vent.