Entrapment by Aleatha Romig
Oren dropped his crossed arms and sat taller. “The man engaged to Alexandria? Doesn’t that render the Infidelity agreement null and void?”
“No,” Deloris answered. “Severus is married. The profile Chelsea agreed to uphold included pairing with married men. She’s still under a one-year obligation, even if this wedding would occur.”
I shook my head. I hadn’t thought of that. “But there are grounds to nullify her agreement.”
“He’s hurt her?” Oren asked.
“How do you know so much about Infidelity agreements?”
“Son, you invested a shit ton of money in that company. Of course I know what it’s about.” He nodded toward the phone. “Is that your man?”
“Yes. Isaac, my father, Oren Demetri, has joined this discussion.”
“Yes, sir. Hello, Mr. Demetri.”
“Can you get this girl out of there?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid it isn’t that easy,” Deloris went on. “Miss Moore doesn’t want to leave without Miss Collins. She fears for her safety if she isn’t there.”
“Then get them both. Do it now.”
“Dad, there’s more. If Isaac gets the two ladies, it leaves Adelaide alone.”
“Bullshit, take her too.”
“Sir, she’s very ill,” Isaac said. “I’ve seen her. She’s not coherent.”
Oren took a deep breath. “We’ll get the best doctors. She won’t be alone.”
“There are complicating factors,” Deloris said.
“What the hell—?”
My phone chimed with an incoming call. On the screen was the name MISS COLLINS #2 PHONE.
“Isaac, Charli is calling. I’ll call you back.”
I didn’t wait for his response as I swiped the screen. “Charli?”
“N-Nox, I-I’m so sorry…”
SHAKING… UNCONTROLLABLE…
It rattled my bones and my teeth…
Pounding… like drums…
Sounding in my temples until I ached. Not only my head—everything—every part of me.
The world didn’t make sense. Thoughts and truth jumbled until fiction became factual and reality became make-believe.
There were voices, Alton’s, Oren’s, and even Alexandria’s. They came and went in a fog of uncertainty.
Yet Oren and Alexandria weren’t really here; they both had to be part of a dream, my mind playing tricks, hallucinations. They came and went in my consciousness or was it my unconsciousness? The voices seemed real, taking on new tones and cadences.
The past mixed with the present until they blended into one. Had they really come? Oren and Alexandria? Or could it be that those were the two I longed for, wished for, needed, if only to say goodbye. Surely I couldn’t go on much longer, not like this.
Somehow the world around me became cold and sterile, a place I loathed—even more than my home and my husband. Those were familiar. This was not. Why would they leave me here? If hell were truly levels, I’d descended lower than ever before. I needed to go home, even wanted to go back, but I was sinking faster than I could crawl to the surface.
Please don’t leave me here. I’m not done.
My father and mother told me from the time I was young that I had responsibilities. I clawed at the darkness, needing to get back. There was more I needed to do. I felt it… but I couldn’t recall any particulars. The memories wouldn’t come. They stayed just out of reach…
Time passed in undefined segments. Yes, science may say it was all related to the sun and rotation of the earth, but that wasn’t true. There were times that I recalled that I’d wanted to last forever, yet greedily time moved forward at uncharted speed. Weeks became days and days hours. And then there were those instances that dragged on and on, as if the earth had slowed both its rotation and spin. Hours lasted for days and days for weeks. Weeks became months… months became years.
Wherever I was, in this sterile place seconds moved like hours, each one dragging on and on until years were passed, beyond my reach… or was it only days? The boredom ate away deliberation until nothing existed—no topics or thoughts—nothing except a void, a black hole of consciousness.
I searched for memories… faces… names. I tried to count, to recall events. I wouldn’t go quietly. I refused. Drowning in the pits was not my end. I would fight to return, claw my way up from the depths. No one else could save me, not this time, not that anyone ever had. As always, it was up to me, and I wanted it—for my daughter, for my love, but also—for the first time—for me.
And then…
I was present.
Tears filled my closed eyes with the relief. The bed beneath me was familiar. I was in my suite at Montague Manor. And yet, the familiar setting didn’t fully relieve my anxiety. It should have, yet the uneasiness was there, bubbling through me, twisting my world. Something wasn’t right. My sealed eyelids opened, if only a bit, as I stole a glimpse around the room. My stomach heaved as the lines of woodwork, doorframes, and molding weaved and bowed.
My suite that had forever been inanimate slowly came to life.
My rational mind told me it wasn’t true, yet I saw it. I felt it. The energy was real and stifling. The beige walls were once again covered with wallpaper from the past. The ivy print on the once stagnant wallpaper grew before my eyes. No longer contained to its parchment, it twisted and twirled, growing and filling the suite, creating a jungle of obstacles.
“Jane.” My plea was soft at first, but with each request my volume rose.
The one-word name sparked wicks of explosions strategically placed within my brain. Pain—like small detonations—obstructed my vision. I couldn’t see the vines for the blinding white light, but I knew they were there. I felt them touching me, my ankles my wrists, binding me.
I thrashed at their touch.
“Jane!” I called louder still, battering the vines away.
“Jane…”
Covering me, strangling me.
A low laugh rumbled through our suite. I wasn’t alone. Alton was here.
“Please,” I begged. “Please make it stop.”
“Laide, my Laide.”
I couldn’t see him, yet his touch was real. Knuckles caressing my cheeks, uncharacteristically gentle. I hated asking for his help, but I couldn’t refrain. “Please, help. Get Jane.”
“Jane isn’t here. Neither are you… neither am I. You’re delusional.”
No!
I shook my head, but this time it barely moved. The ivy had matured, its vines thick and coarse as rope covering the bed, wrapping me in their grip. “Get them off! Please get them off.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Warm tears leaked from my closed eyes. I couldn’t pry them open, the light was too bright, the pounding too severe. That didn’t mean I wasn’t aware. I was. Like insects scattering across my skin, the vines continued to weave and wrap; alive and possessed, they tied me to the bed, covering my legs, body, breasts, and arms. I couldn’t move.
Oh God!
The foliage was infested. True insects scattered with tiny legs and feet, crawling, eating, and nesting… on me… in me. I feared speaking, afraid they’d enter my mouth. My nose was vulnerable as I blew from my nostrils. Like a bull, I tried to keep them away. My ears and hair crawled with hundreds of thousands of bugs.
I spit my request, “Help! Please, make it stop. Not my face, don’t let them on my face.”
No one answered. The only sound above his fading laugh was the buzzing and hissing as the infestation continued.
My heart thundered in my ears as I struggled against the vines and insects. With my energy depleting I waited, scared to live and terrified to die.
Did I lose consciousness? I wasn’t sure. The buzzing was gone, yet my skin was on fire. Every inch itched with the venom the tiny beasts had left behind.
I was still bound, unable to ease the growing need to scratch. My screams and pleas echoed in the distance until the explosions in my
“Help me. Make it stop. Put it out!”
If only I could move, unwrap the vines, but I was bound in a fire… a sacrifice to a god I didn’t know.
“Please, not my face.”
“Mrs. Fitzgerald, no one is covering your face.”
I blinked once and then twice: the suite was gone and so was the fire. Yet the stench remained, deep within my lungs, the odor of burning flesh. Was it mine or the insects? Had the fire scared them away?
No longer hot, cold water lingered upon my skin. Chilled to the bone, the trembling resumed. My dressing gown clung to my breasts and legs. Yet the moisture did little to relieve the itch and burn that I’d endured as a result of the abusive vines and insects.
Still bound, I turned from side to side, seeking relief. “It itches,” I tried to explain. “Please free my hands.”
“Do you promise to leave the IVs alone? You’ve been pretty out of it for the last few days.”
“Days?”
My eyes slowly opened, expecting the excruciating pain. Instead, my vision was met with a dull ache. The explosions had ended. My open eyes found only destruction and devastation, the remnants of a battle lost.
“Jane?” I asked, though I knew I wasn’t in my suite. I prayed she wouldn’t leave me.
“No Jane here,” the man’s voice replied.
I wanted to cover myself. It wasn’t proper to be in this place, wherever it was, with a man I didn’t know, wearing a dampened gown. I couldn’t. My arms were trapped and body heavy.
“Please, I won’t touch the IVs.”
Each second that I waited irritated my skin. It crawled with the memory of the infestation. Surely I was covered in marks, bites, and scratches. Like the flames, I longed to soothe it; my entire body prickled. If only I could scratch. If only I could soak. That was what I needed, to soak in a bath.
I needed Jane.
My left arm was the first to be freed, yet it weighed too much to be of any use, falling to the bed and refusing to move. My mind sent instructions, telling it to move, to scratch, to abrade my irritated skin. If only I could, I knew it would bring relief. But, alas, my own limb laughed at my inability.
Pushing with my feet I was able turn my entire body, a little bit at first and then more. The movement helped my back. No doubt the ivy had wrapped totally around me. There wasn’t a place that didn’t need relief.
“Mrs. Fitzgerald, you need to hold still.”
“Itches. My whole body.”
“You’re soaked in sweat. DTs do that.”
DTs?
I couldn’t comprehend what he meant.
D and T, what was that?
And then it began… the rumble of an impending earthquake. Starting at my toes, a tremor like I’d never felt before. It grew until my entire body quaked. Loud and primitive, a roar filled the room, its vibrations threatening to shatter the windows and still my erratic heart.
Was the jungle back? Were there animals?
Alarms and buzzers… voices… so far away.
Oh God.
My teeth were going to break: they chattered so hard. I couldn’t stop them from gnashing until my jaw became rigid.
All control was lost.
I was here. I felt it. I knew it was me—even the roar—and yet my body was an entity of its own. Tension faded, expelling my bodily fluids…
Oh dear Lord, please help me.
My heavy arm was lifted and then…
Blackness… and calm.
THE CLAY PATH beneath my shoes was lined by stripped tobacco stalks for nearly as far as the eye could see. I’d ventured beyond the lawns, gardens, tennis courts, and past the pool, until the harvested fields were all around me. The manor was but a dot in the landscape, and I prayed that I’d found the place beyond Alton’s security.
In my solitude, for the first time in nearly a week, I wasn’t alone. Fingering the tracker necklace, Nox’s voice reached beyond my ears to my heart. The tidal wave of relief brought on by his presence, even though only through the phone, staggered my steps.
“I’m so sorry… I didn’t want to…” My feet stilled as I gripped the small phone tighter. My blurry gaze darted about the landscape as I tried to catch my breath, determined not to cry any more than I already was. I couldn’t waste our precious minutes as a broken-down mess.
“Princess, it’ll be all right.”
His tone rumbled through me, weakening my knees until I collapsed upon the hard Georgia clay.
“You don’t understand,” I said, barely able to get the words out before my voice broke. “I-I kissed him.”
“What?” His one-word question held no judgment. Instead, there was restraint, as if Nox were doing his best, not only to stay calm himself, but also to keep me that way too. That was what he did: despite what would be his justified anger or hurt, he still put me first.
“When Isaac gave me the phone, Bryce recognized him—”
“Shit!”
“But,” I continued, “the Vitoni thing worked. Alton checked and it all was verified. I don’t know how you did it, but thank God you did. I convinced Bryce that even though he might have looked like your driver, he wasn’t. They searched my backpack.” I hiccupped a suppressed sob. “They’re watching my every move. I hate it. It’s so much worse than…” I didn’t want to say worse than him, because that wasn’t what I meant. I understood Nox’s need to keep me safe. Alton’s need wasn’t based on protection but on control. It was different.
“Clayton?” Nox offered.
“I want Clayton back.”
“Is that the only person you want back?”
“Oh God, no. I miss you so much. There are so many things I need to tell you.”
“Tell me why. That’s what I need to know.”
Exhaling, I laid my head back upon a grassy patch near the path and looked up at the blue sky. Small white clouds moved slowly across the expanse, forming shapes and images that continued to change and morph. The small vision exemplified my life. No matter how much I hated that things stayed the same in Savannah, things that I wanted to remain the same changed and morphed like wisps of clouds.
I wanted Nox, New York, Columbia, and even Clayton. I missed Deloris, Lana, and my classmates. I missed our routine. I missed the life we’d made.
Another cry bubbled from my chest. I’d tried to be strong around Alton and Bryce, even Jane, but this was Nox and I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t pretend, not with him.
“My mom, oh, Nox, she’s so sick.”
“Princess, you’re not alone. You know that, don’t you?”
I nodded as tears coated my cheeks.
“I’m watching you,” he continued. “You’re a blue dot, the most beautiful blue dot I’ve ever seen. Clayton and Deloris are watching you too, and so is Isaac.”
His words, their timbre, washed through me, taking away the shame that had been left from giving into Alton’s demands and refilled my depleted strength.
“I was afraid you’d give up on me.”
“Never. That’s not even an option.”
“When I saw him… James,” I said, recalling his fake name. “You’ll never know how much it meant to me. Despite all I’ve done, seeing him made me feel like you still believed in me.”
“Of course I do. I always will.”
A reassuring silence settled over us. Just hearing his breathing calmed me.
“It’s good to hear your voice,” Nox said, “but I’m a greedy son-of-a-bitch. I want more than your voice. I want every part of you. We’re getting you out. We have a plan.”
I closed my eyes. Everything inside of me wanted to let him come and get me, but I couldn’t. “Nox, you can’t.”
“You’re wrong. I can. We have it all worked out. During the party on Saturday, Patrick is going to help—”
“Stop.” I couldn’t listen to his strategy and go through with mine.
“No, Charli, you nee
“Nox, I can’t leave. If I do, the provisions of the will go into effect. I can’t do that to my mom.”
“Have you seen the will?”
“I’ve seen the part that’s important. I want to see the whole thing, but I’m biding my time. You don’t understand how tyrannical Alton can be. I can’t rush it.”
I hadn’t even been able to arrange an appointment with Dr. Beck. Nothing was within my control.
“Fuck, Charli, you haven’t rushed anything. It’s been five days. That’s not rushing.” His voice softened. “Talk to me. Are you safe? Has anyone hurt you?”
Instinctively I reached for my arm, the place where Bryce had gripped it. The skin was tender, making me wonder if it would bruise. And then I lifted the tips of my fingers to my left cheek. It seemed to be everyone’s target. Maybe that was because Alton and Suzanna were both right-handed. I couldn’t overthink it.
“Charli?” My name came as a question and a warning. Nox wanted an honest answer, and he wanted it now.
“No,” I choked out my response.
“No, you’re not safe or no, no one has hurt you?”
“I’m fine, Nox. Really. I just miss you. I miss my life. I-I don’t want this to be my life, but it has to be for awhile.”
“You’re killing me. What about Columbia? What about your dreams?”
I loved that he cared. “I spoke with Dr. Renaud. I’m watching classes via teleconferencing and submitting my work online.” Nox sighed. “Thank you for my school things, they arrived yesterday.”
“Did you find everything?”
I lifted my head. “Tell me there wasn’t anything in there for me. By the time it made it to me it had all been inspected—for my safety.” My tone alone on the last part said more than my words.
“No, princess. I wanted to. I wanted to write you a ten-page letter. I wanted to tell you how much I love you and how we’ll get you out, but I was advised against it. That sounds like it was good advice.”
“It was. They’re watching everything. They saw Isaac—I mean, James—give me the case. I don’t know what made me hide the phone and put lipstick in the case, but if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be talking to you now.”