Adumbration

Garrett watched as she ate. It had been a struggle to get the tape off her mouth, as it had covered the majority of the lower half of her face. She had been whimpered in pain a couple of times and the tape had pulled at her skin and surprisingly, his heart had gone out to her. He felt the first tugging at his heart as he caused her pain. No matter how badly he wanted to money she would bring, he couldn't bring himself to harm a woman intentionally.

His mother had been beaten by her husband, Garrett's father, although he never acknowledged him as one. He remembered the nights when she had put herself between her husband and son. She had sacrificed herself so that her son wouldn't get hurt. Afterward, she would crawl into bed with him, trying to hold the tears back as she tried to comfort him and get him to sleep. The beatings had stopped when he had turned fifteen and was just as big as his father. One night when he had tried to beat his mother, he had defended her, just as she had defended him for so many years. Two weeks later, they made their escape.

Now, more than fifteen years after that incident, his mother was gone, having died happily, peacefully. He wondered what she would think of the situation he was in now.Holding a woman captive, shackled to a cot bolted to the floor of a room in the New York countryside that he was planning on asking for ransom. She would be disappointed, might have even asked him to let her go, to think about his actions. Garrett, however, had thought about his actions. He knew what he wanted to achieve and he was going to achieve it, no matter what.

The woman before him was beautiful. Her blonde hair was natural, of that he was sure. Color like that didn't come out of a bottle, it was purely genetic. Slanted brows came down over wide green eyes that gave away everything she was thinking. It was a weakness that he appreciated, but she probably hated. Her body was slender, athletic. She looked as though she regularly worked out, but not overly. She was perfectly toned in the right places, and the expensive cut of her clothes accentuated that fact. Her hands, slender and perfectly manicured, although there were no fake nails he found so annoying, shook as she lifted to plastic fork to her mouth.

He made her nervous, and that made him smile. Fear was a volatile weapon. One he planned to use to get her to cooperate, although he hoped she wouldn't test him. He didn't want to hurt her and he didn't think he would if she tried to challenge him.

* * * * * * * * * * *

He was watching her. She could feel his eyes on her as she tried to swallow past the lump in her throat that was threatening to choke her. The hell she had gone through in the past few hours had her on edge. She felt as though she had been in that trunk for days rather than hours and she was suffering from delayed shock. Her hands were shaking violently, sweat was pooling at the base of her neck, and she was ready to vomit all over the man with the eyes as chilly as winter in Alaska.

Caer found it hard to comprehend that just twenty-four hours ago she had been in her apartment, enjoying a relaxing day sketching and drinking her holy water, Dr. Pepper. Now, she was in a small room, sparsely furnished, eating rubbery chicken. Encasing her ankle was a metal shackle attached to shiny chain that was attached to the floor. Every time she moved she felt like Jacob Marley, the chains wattling on the ground. The sound made her anxious, on top of having the man sitting there, staring at her.

She could feel his eyes on her, even though she didn't look up at him. She was too afraid to, too afraid that he would turn into the monster that she was dreading. The silence was heavy around her, she felt oppressed by it, for some reason, the lack of noise was more frightening than having it around her. "What's your name?" She asked, hoping her question would be answered. He had been quiet from the time that he had soothed her when pulling off the tape. Caer had been surprised by his gentleness, but had welcomed the small amount of comfort, even if it had come from an unwelcome source.

"You can call me Garrett." He said, the rich timbre of his voice relaxing, holding no malice that would cause her fear. "What is it like being a stock broker on Wall Street?" Garret asked, picking up her que for conversation.

Frantically Caer fought for understanding. Stock broker? She wasn't...Realization struck her then, she hadn't been their intended target! She had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time! Oh dear! She wasn't about to tell them, if she did she ran the risk of being killed because she wasn't who they wanted. Then she would have more things to worry about than her hair and the chafing the shackle was already causing on her ankle. Lie!She told herself, lie so they don't suspect anything. You may be able to delay them for a time while you try to figure out how to get out of this mess!

So she lied.