Kidnapped by a Killer (Edited Version)

Chapter 17

I sat on the couch with my book, my eyes gliding over the page with ease. Cliff was in the bedroom doing paperwork for the hospital or something of the like. The house was quiet. It had been four days since Cliff had saved me from Rowen, and we hadn't heard from him since. Personally, I was very relieved that Rowen was gone, but I could tell Cliff was a bit frustrated. As he had told me before, Cliff usually talked with Rowen when he needed advice about something. With him gone, and I not exactly wanting to talk about murder, Cliff had no one to consult. I could tell the pressure was getting to him.

The bedroom door opened and Cliff walked out in a huff. I peeked over the top of my book and watched him go to the back door. Cliff tended to walk alone when he was thinking out a problem. He would leave the house for an hour or so at a time and return with a cooler attitude. It had started to be a daily practice. I eyed him through the window until he had disappeared among the trees with the three dogs in tow behind him. It was gonna be a long walk.

Bored with reading, I set my book down and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I watched as the water poured into the cup and sloshed around a bit before I tipped it back and drank the cold liquid. When my cup was empty, I sighed. I had given up on trying to escape. Though I desperately wanted to get some air, I didn't really think I was allowed to leave the house, Cliff having told me on several occasions to stay put. So, having nothing else to do, I headed for the bathroom to take a shower. I turned the water on and waited for it to warm up before I slipped out of my clothes and got under the scalding heat.

Being clean was a luxury I never thought I would call a luxury. Not being allowed to shower when I was with Rowen had been horrible. The blood on my body would dry and turn into an itchy crust, not to mention the sweat that would get so sticky it was almost like a paste; all of which would seep into my cuts and sting. I felt a lump in my throat remembering the pain and turned the water hotter to distract myself.

I scrubbed shampoo into my hair and washed it out slowly, running a comb through to make sure it was all out; my hair had gotten quite long in the past couple months. I wasn't ready to get out yet, so I sat down on the floor of the shower and leaned into the water to let it drizzle down my face.

It felt soothing to wash my almost healed bruises; it was like I was washing away the memories with the dirt. Of course, I could never wash away everything. I had plenty of scars covering my body to remind me. I saw them whenever I looked in the mirror. As a result, I had begun to avoid anything that could reflect how I looked, and by default, how I felt about myself.

I heard the bedroom door and knew Cliff had returned, so I turned the water off. I had just gotten out and wrapped a towl around myself when the door opened a crack and Cliff's voice drifted in. "Hey, Zane? I'm going out for a bit," he said. "Will you okay by yourself?"

"I'll be fine." I called. "Where are you going?"

He hesitated. "The hospital. I have a patient asking for me," he said.

I frowned. He was lying to me and I wasn't sure why. But I didn't want to press the matter, so I just said "Okay," and I heard him leave the bedroom. When I heard his car start, I walked into the bedroom and slipped into some clothes. Cliff hadn't had anything for me to wear for the first few days, so I had been stuck wearing his stuff which was too big for me. But as soon as he had gotten the time, he had gone out and gotten me several pairs of pants, shirts, and even some pajamas.

I put on a green sweater and a pair of jeans. My hair was still wet, even after I spent a good three minutes ruffling it with a towel, so I left my towl around my shoulders to keep my hair from soaking my shirt, and I walked into the living room. I grabbed the remote to the TV and looked over what was playing. There was a dumb TV series on that I didn't even know the name of and a few other things as well as the news. I left it on that channel.

The broadcaster was talking about the weather. Something about how it was going to rain in a few days and to make sure to bring an umbrella. It was far less interesting than I had expected, and I must have drifted off because I woke up to a dark living room. I noticed that the TV show had changed to the midnight news. The guy on the screen was going over recent or important updates for the area.

As I watched, only half awake, a familiar picture appeared on the screen. My eyes grew moist as I stared at the picture. It was a picture of me and Remi, both of us smiling as we waved at the camera. My grandma had taken that picture last year during Thanksgiving. I was so distracted by the image, I almost missed what the reported was saying.

"...almost four months since the Chelter family was brutily murdered. The police have refused to give a statement about their progress in the case, as they still haven't found the family's oldest boy, Zane Chelter. However, rumors say they are getting desperate for a lead and have even contacted the FBI. Unfortunately, nothing solid has been confirmed yet. The police grow more anxious and concerned as the search for Zane continues, and some people have begun to ask if he will ever be found. The best anyone can do Zane right now is to hope and pray for his safety."

With one hand, I reached up and felt the wetness of tears on my cheeks. They didn't even feel real. I swiped them away and tried to swallow the lump in my throat. Crying would do me no good. My family was gone. They were gone and no amount of crying, or screaming, or anything would bring them back. They were gone.

My composure broke and I put my face in my knees, crying as quietly as I could. They were gone, but that couldn't stop me from missing them. I should have done something to protect them. It was all my fault that they were gone. I should have warned them, given them a fighting chance, something.

The front door opened behind me and I froze. "Hey, you're still up? It's late," Cliff said, setting his bag down in the front hall.

I dried my face and headed for the bedroom without a word.

Cliff's cheerful demeanor dropped. "Zane, are you okay?" he asked, starting to follow me.

"I'm fine," I said shortly, and closed the bedroom door in his face. I waited for him to storm in, furious that I had shut him out so physically, but he didn't. After calling my name and getting no response, he retreated and I was left alone.

*******

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