Kidnapped by a Killer (Edited Version)

Chapter 14

"Cliff!" I begged. "Cliff, wake up!"

After Rowen had knocked Cliff out, he had put us both in chairs and tied our hands behind our backs. We were still in the small room, away from where anyone could hear us, but no matter how loud I shouted, Cliff wouldn't wake up.

It wasn't until an hour later, after the blood on his temple had dried to a crusty sludge, that Cliff finally stirred and opened his eyes. He groaned and sat up only to drop his head over the back of his chair. "What the hell...?" he muttered, frowning at the ceiling.

I tried to scoot my chair closer. "Cliff," I said, drawing his attention to me. "Are you okay?"

He looked at me and then at our surroundings. He tugged at the rope around his wrists. "Great," he said irritably. "This wasn't part of the plan."

He was still working on a new plan that hopefully would get us both out of there when the door opened and Rowen entered the room. He was smiling like a kid at Christmas. "Finally! I thought you'd never wake up," he said, ruffling Cliff's hair as he walked past him. "You always were a late sleeper."

"What is this, Rowen?" Cliff said.

Rowen ignored him and pulled some duck tape out of his pocket. He tore off a piece before putting it over my mouth with a couple not-so-gentle pats to my cheeks for good measure. "It took me a while to figure out what was so interesting about this kid, but you know, I think I finally get it." He slung an arm around my shoulders like we were pals. "He's a lot like you. You relate to him don't you?"

Cliff didn't answer his question. "Rowen, if you touch him again-"

Rowen didn't let him finish. "Oh, Cliff. You're no fun," he complained. He squeezed me even closer. "At least pretend like this makes you mad. Come on, get angry like you used to. You had such a temper." Rowen looked excited remembering his times with Cliff, but when Cliff just looked at him, pity in his eyes, Rowen's smile dropped. He almost sounded disappointed. "What happened to you?" he asked.

"I'm not like that anymore," Cliff said. "I haven't been for a long time."

That made Rowen laugh, but it didn't sound genuine. "You are, you just don't want your precious little angle to see it," he accused. "What is he? Your therapy toy?"

Cliff didn't dignify him with a response and Rowen scowled.

"Fine," he said. "I'll just have to push some buttons."

Rowen circled behind me, pulling a small knife from his pocket. "You seem to be overly attached to this one," he said, and he drew the blade slowly up my cheek, slitting the skin. "Does this make you angry, Cliff? Does this fill you with rage?"

Cliff watched the blood trickle down my cheek, but he remained silent.

"How about this?" Rowen sliced the knife down my arm, and I gasped at the pain, muffled because of the tape.

That one made Cliff look away, but he still refused to give Rowen the reaction he wanted.

Though Rowen chuckled, he sounded frustrated. "You don't like to break do you?" he asked. "I guess I can't fault you. I taught you that."

Cliff looked at him, but his eyes showed more contempt for the man in front of him than any I had ever seen. Whatever Cliff had learned from Rowen, he wasn't proud of it, and he would rather not be reminded. 

Sighing deeply, Rowen tossed the knife away, accepting the fact that no amount of pain was going to push Cliff over the edge. He looked at me, then at Cliff; there was a plan formulating in his mind. "Maybe it's not just about protecting him," he said. "Maybe it's about possession."