along with the two I'd placed at the end of the street.
Then it hit me. This wasn't random. He must have read the ad and checked out the street.
He chose me.
'So, how did the open house go?'
Fine, until he came along.
Could I pull the keys out of the ignition? Or at least press the unlock button on the remote and throw myself out the door before he grabbed me? I slowly reached out with my left hand, keeping it low--
His hand landed on my shoulder, and his fingers curled over my collarbone.
'I'm trying to ask about your day, Annie. You're not usually so rude.'
I stared at him.
'The open house?'
'It was...it was slow.'
'You must have been happy when I came by, then!'
He gave me that smile I'd found so genuine. As he waited for me to respond, his smile began to droop and his grip tightened.
'Yes, yes, it was nice to see someone.'
The smile was back. He rubbed me on the shoulder where his hand had been, then cupped my cheek.
'Just try to relax and enjoy the sun, you look so stressed out lately.' When he faced the road again, he gripped the steering wheel with one hand and rested the other on my thigh. 'You're going to like it there.'
'Where? Where are you taking me?'
He began to hum.
After a while he turned down a little side road and parked. I had no idea where we were. He shut off the van, turned to me, and smiled like we were on a date.
'Not much longer now.'
He got out, walked around the front of the van, then opened my door. I hesitated for a second. He cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows. I got out.
He put an arm around my shoulders, the gun in his other hand, and we walked toward the back of the van.
He inhaled deeply. 'Mmmm, smell that air. Incredible.'
Everything was so quiet, that hot summer afternoon kind of quiet when you can hear a dragonfly buzzing ten feet from you. We passed a huge huckleberry bush close to the van, its berries almost ripe. I started bawling and shaking so hard I could barely walk. He lowered his hand off my shoulder to grasp the upper part of my arm, holding me up. We were still walking, but I couldn't feel my legs.
He let me go for a moment, tucked the gun into his waistband, and opened up the van's back doors. I turned to run, but he grabbed the back of my hair, spun me around to face him, and pulled me up by my hair until my toes grazed the ground. I tried to kick him in the legs, but he was a good foot taller and easily held me away from him. The pain was excruciating. All I could do was kick at the air and pound my fists on his arm. I screamed as loud as I could.
He slapped his free hand over my mouth and said, 'Now, why did you go do something silly like that?'
I clung to the arm that held me in the air and tried to hoist my body up, to take away the pressure from my scalp.
'Let's try this again. I'm going to let you go, and you're going to get inside and lie down on your stomach.'
He lowered his arm slowly until my feet touched the ground. One of my high heels had fallen off when I tried to kick him, so I was off balance and stumbled backward. The van's bumper hit the back of my knees, and I landed on my ass in the van. A gray blanket was spread out on the floor. I sat there and stared out at him, shaking so hard my teeth chattered. The sun was bright behind his head, turning his face dark and outlining him in light.
He pushed me hard on the shoulders, pressed me onto my back, and said, 'Roll over.'
'Wait--can we just talk for a minute?' He smiled at me like I was a puppy chewing on his shoelaces. 'Why are you doing this?' I said. 'Do you want money? If we go back and get my purse, I can give you my PIN number for my bank card--there's a few thousand in my account. And my credit cards, they have really high limits.' He continued to smile at me.
'If we just talk, I know we can work something out. I can--'
'I don't need your money, Annie.' He reached for the gun. 'I didn't want to have to use this, but--'
'Stop!' I threw my hands out in front of me. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it, I just don't know what you want. Is it...is it sex? Is that what you want?'
'What did I ask you to do?'
'You...asked me to roll over.'
He raised an eyebrow.
'That's it? You just want me to roll over? What are you going to do to me if I roll over?'
'I've asked you nicely two times now.' His hand caressed the gun.
I rolled over.
'I don't understand why you're doing this.' My voice cracked. Damn. I had to stay calm. 'Have we met before?'
He was behind me, one hand on the middle of my back, pinning me down.
'I'm sorry if I did something to offend you, David. I really am. Just tell me how I can make it up to you, okay? There has to be some way....'
I shut up and listened. I could hear small sounds behind me, could tell he was doing something back there, preparing for something. I waited for the click of the gun being cocked. My body shook with terror. Was this it for me? My life was going to end with me facedown in the back of a van? I felt a needle stab into the back of my thigh. I flinched and tried to reach back to touch it. Fire crawled up my leg.
Before we wrap this session up, Doc, I think it's only fair I fill you in on something--if I'm going to climb aboard the no-bullshit train, I should ride it to the end of the line. When I said I was screwed up, I actually meant royally fucked. The I-sleep-in-my-closet-every-night kind of fucked.
It was tricky as hell when I first got home and was staying in my old bedroom at my mom's, slipped out in the morning so no one knew. Now that I'm back in my old place, some shit is easier since I can control all the variables. But I won't set foot in a building unless I know where the exits are. It's a damn good thing you're on the ground floor. I wouldn't be sitting here if your office was any higher than I can jump.
Night...well, night's the worst. I can't have any people around. What if they unlocked a door? What if they left a window open? If I wasn't already waltzing with crazy, then running around checking everything while trying not to let anybody see what I'm doing would guarantee me a dance.
When I first got home, I thought if I could just find one person who felt the same as me...Dumbass that I am, I looked for a support group. Turns out there's no such thing as SAAMA, no Some Asshole Abducted Me Anonymous, online or off. Anyway, the whole concept of anonymity is bullshit when you've been on magazine covers, front pages, and talk shows. Even if I did track down a group, I'm willing to bet one of its wonderfully sympathetic members would be cashing in on my shit as soon as she walked out the door. Sell my pain to some tabloid and get herself a cruise or a plasma TV.
Not to mention, I hate talking to strangers about this stuff, especially reporters, who get it ass-backward often as not. But you'd be surprised how much some of the magazines and TV shows are willing to pay for an interview. I didn't want the money but they keep offering it, and hell, I need it. It's not like I could keep doing real estate. What good is a Realtor who's scared to be alone with a strange man?
Sometimes I go back to the day I was abducted--replaying my actions up until the open house scene by scene, like a never-ending horror movie where you can't stop the girl from answering the door or walking into the deserted building--and I remember the cover of that magazine in the store. So weird to think that now some other woman is looking at my picture, thinking she knows all about me.
SESSION TWO
On my way here today an ambulance came screaming up behind me--guy had to be doing over a hundred.
