The Celebrity Copycat - A Heartthrob Tale

Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Mikayla awoke with a start. Someone was touching her leg. She was panting heavily with fear. Then she saw Jackson taking off her shackle.

"You scared me half to death. What's going on?" she mumbled.

The shackle dropped to the floor and he said, "I wanted to bring you back to the bedroom." He rubbed the back of his neck. Was he nervous about something? That was usually a nervous tick.

"Oh. Okay," she said. Going back to the bedroom meant she wouldn't be chained up in a room with no windows. She could think more clearly. She could learn more and maybe escape.

Jackson stood up and he held out his hand for her. She took it and he quickly walked her back to his room. She quietly mused that with all the rooms in this mansion he could have dozens of other women.

He ushered her into the bedroom and pulled a key out of his pants. He locked the door, then turned to her. As he put the key away she realized it was attached with one of those retractable string things.

Mikayla stood there not sure what to do. She held her arms and looked at the floor. She wasn't sure why she was in this room with him. She assumed being in isolation was a punishment.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?" asked Jackson.

"I'm not really tired anymore."

He slowly walked to her and her muscles were tensing up. She dug her fingernails into her skin.

"Well, what do you want?" he whispered. He was too close. She could feel the heat radiating off his body.

She looked up at him. His bright blue eyes were boring into her soul. She looked back at the floor. "I want to take a shower and change my clothes."

"Of course." He walked to the closet and pulled out a white button down shirt and a plastic bag from a pharmacy. He handed her both. "I'm sorry, I don't have clothes for you yet. I will get them soon. I did pick up a pack of panties to hold you over."

She could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. "I . . . I can't wear your clothes."

"It's my clothes or no clothes!" he yelled.

It was the first time he'd raised his voice. She shut her eyes in fear. He was going to hit her. She was certain. But nothing happened. She slowly moved her hands and looked at him.

His arms were crossed. "What are you doing?"

"I thought you were going to hit me."

"Why would I go doing that and mar your pretty face? Physical punishment is classless and should only be used in extreme circumstances. Besides, it wouldn't work well on you. And we both know it. You're strong and defiant. You'd just use it as an excuse to fuel your spite."

He was right. She looked at him quietly.

"What would you classify as extreme circumstances?"

"Honestly that's a bridge we'll have to cross when we get to it. Now go take your shower. Towels are under the sink. There's shampoo and conditioner in there as well as a comb."

"What about a hair dryer?"

"You'll have to do without for now.

She knew he didn't trust her. And he was right to. She was going to use it to bash him in the head or use the cord to choke him and take his keys.

"Later on I'll have you make a list of things I need to buy for you. Like your preferred hair care, skin care, and such."

She nodded.

"Now go take your shower."

She quietly went into the bathroom and closed the door. There was no lock.

She opened the pack of underwear and took a pair out. It was about her size. The shirt was massive. She wasn't sure how she would make it work because it was so big. But she'd try.

She needed to look around the room to see if there was an escape. She turned on the water to drown out the sound she made and set about her search.

There was nothing of use in the drawers. He had a battery powered electric razor.

The tub had a curtain around it. She pulled the plastic aside and saw the bolts holding the rod in place. The curtain rod would have made a great weapon.

She sighed. It was hopeless.

She stripped off her black dress, strapless bra, and panties. She freed her long hair from its bun, then stepped into the water.

She stood in the heat just enjoying it, trying to clear her head. But being alone with her thoughts . . . it was awful. She started questioning everything. What if she never got out of there? What if her mother needed her? What if he succeeded at breaking her?

Before she knew it she was bawling. A small noise put her on alert. She froze in place and through the opaque curtain she could see the shape of a large man.

What was he doing in there? She almost screamed at him to leave. But she couldn't speak. Jackson was brief. He quietly left and she was alone again. She sunk to the floor and sat in the water for a while until she got herself together.

She slowly stood up and washed her body and hair. Then she combed her locks. When hanging loose it nearly reached her butt, which would have been more impressive of she were taller. She deftly braided the length and turned off the water. She grabbed her hair tie and closed off the braid.

She took the large blue towel and dried her skin. She slipped on the panties then the large shirt. It hung lower than the dress she'd been wearing. The shoulder hung halfway down her upper arms. She hiked up the sleeves and buttoned it. She then decide it would be best to fold the sleeves neatly.

She used the towel to wring out the rest of the water from her hair.

Mikayla looked in the mirror and sighed. It was the best she was going to get. She cautiously opened the bathroom door. Jackson immediately sat up on the bed. He flashed a huge smile at her and she felt her heart drop.

"Looking at you in my shirt, I've half a mind not to get you your own clothes."

She looked at the floor. "It's not comfortable to wear this."

"Relax, I'm still going to buy you plenty to wear."

"Do you have any safety pins so I can make it fit better?" she asked.

"Look at me when you speak, Mikayla."

She looked up at him, wringing her hands together, distractedly. Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. She licked her lips and repeated, "Do you have any safety pins so I can make it fit better?"

"I do not. But hopefully I'll get to the store in the next few days."

Jackson sat on the bed and patted the spot next to him. She cringed at the thought.

"I . . . I don't want to sit. I need to pace or I'm going to go mad."

Jackson sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess I can leave you alone for a bit." He stood up to his full height and strut over to her. She shrunk back as his hand touched her head. She felt weak at the knees. How could all this be happening?

His shoulder's dropped and he said, "Don't cause any trouble." He left.

Mikayla's knees gave out and she slumped to the floor. Within a few minutes her body was wracked with sobs. Her tear filled eyes darted around the room and before she knew it she was pulling all the drawers out of the dresser and pulling down all the shirts in the closet. She had no clear purpose beyond destruction.

The immaculately clean room became a chaotic minefield of clothing thrown around. Her lungs felt tight and she could no longer control her rage. Her head was filled with noise.

When there was nothing left to throw on the floor she tore apart the bed, tossing the many pillows and blankets onto the pile of destruction. In a final act of anger she knocked over the three lamps in the room and laid down among the mess, crying into the soft carpet.