Logan stared at the pictures as they downloaded upon his phone. He had received a flurry of picture messages tonight and his phone had been busy signaling each new arrival. The incoming number was marked as private but that was not unusual for his line of work. His phone often lit up with unknown calls and secretive recipients.
However, this was not his usual business and there was a tear welling in his eye as he carefully studied each new picture message. He glanced at the house phone, suspended upon the wall and spent several minutes debating his options.
He knew deep down that going to the police would be futile, the accompanying text almost dared him to go to the authorities, knowing that it couldn't be an option but as he looked at the pictures of his fiancée tied up, he debated risking it all.
*
The coffee table was a small wooden structure with a glass insert neatly trimmed to fit between the four surrounding walls. Sitting central in an open lounge, the furniture looked an expensive foreign piece and was sturdy and heavy, its weight pushing four indentations into the carpet below. The glass top was cold against her skin while the legs of the table were thick and solid, each holding a handcuff to meet each limb.
Hannah was sprawled over the table, her naked body face down, held by the table's restraints. Her wrists hung down over the edge, spread out in front of her as each arm went its separate direction.
Her head sat just on the edge of the table while behind her, her legs dangled down each side, her ankles clamped by the metal cuffs. The small table just allowed her behind to remain on the opaque surface, but all her limps dangled like a dejected and fatigued surfer lying upon a board.
A glass clinked from within the kitchen and caused Hannah to stir. She'd been captive, unable to move for hours. What was in store for her tonight? Once again, she tested her restraints, however, there would be no give in her shackles, the cuffs only permitting her to wiggle upon the table. A fish out of the water.
Hannah had been in a relationship with Logan for almost two years, a shiny engagement ring upon her finger before she had found out the truth. Touting as a wealthy investor and businessman he had given her a luxurious life and perhaps that's why she never dared to draw the dots and reach the obvious conclusion. Logan's lifestyle was not all above board and as she investigated a little further, his scams and dealing unwound. She had been dismayed to reveal the lies in her relationship. How had she been so easily conned? Who were these people that he dealt with? Was it dangerous? Was she in peril being associated with him? Would she be a target?
She wanted nothing more to do with him and was leaving him as soon as she could. Her metaphorical shackles replaced by the cold hard factual ones that now greeted her limbs.
A shadow appeared before her and a smell of smoke and rum filled the room. A husky voice broke the silence. 'Let's get this over with.'
*
Logan sat on a stool on his breakfast bar, his head in hands, almost not daring to look at the phone as it beeped, signaling a new message arriving.
The first of the night's tirade had arrived several hours prior and had clearly shown his girlfriend dancing at the club quickly followed by a photo of her in the boot of a car. He had choked back a whimper when he had seen her cramped into the boot.
She was a beautiful woman, a girl who had complimented his lavish lifestyle and while he had pursued her at first for the eye-candy and trophy haul, he had, over time, come to truly love and appreciate her. Hannah was the one honest and authentic thing is his world of forgery. The boot photo had her bound, gagged and wide-eyed in panic.
He trembled as he read the accompanying text. "Your girl was, let's say, convinced, to give us her internet banking pin number but seems you keep her on a tight leash. Deposit $250,000 into her account by 7pm or things are going to get a whole lot messier. Our leash is even tighter than yours."
The picture showed his Hannah on her knees, a dog choker chain tight around her throat. Her make up ran down her face as the tears flowed and her shirt was ripped just enough to show a hint of a nipple. Behind her, a man stood with only half of his body visible but clearly, a protuberance in his jeans.
He looked at his watch. 6.45pm. He again debated his options and fleetingly considered the police. Sighing with defeat, he opened his laptop.
*
Alex had sat patiently within the bar for several hours before the blonde vixen had come waltzing into his vision. He had taken multiple snaps of her while she danced and swayed to the music, seemingly enjoying a night out on the town. He had studied her for a while now and knew exactly who she was. He knew her hangouts and her traits. He knew her boyfriend, a man he despised. He knew all about her.
She had smiled when he had approached her, his large frame and good looks offering a friendly persona. He had always been approachable and found it easy to inject himself into a conversation and mingle with the attractive crowd. He was a man that a girl felt instantly comfortable around. He had no trouble winning her confidence.
Less than an hour later and he had led her to his car, parked towards the back of the building. No one noticed him taking photos of the rear of his vehicle. No one noticed that his blonde companion disappeared. A couple of flashes of his camera phone and the texts were ready.
*
Hannah tensed as the footsteps neared, a heavy creek in the floorboards revealing a man's presence. She tried to glance behind her, but the restraints held her tight, confiding her.
A flash brightened the room, flicking around the lounge where she lay, naked. Several more flashes followed before a hand appeared in front of her face. She brought her head up to meet the phone it held and shuddered at the sight appearing on the screen, her body prone, tied, exposed.
A finger slowly swiped along the screen, showing more photos in the carousel, in each, she lay prominent and weighed down.
'I think he'll like this one.' The voice said, showing a picture of her where the viewer could clearly see the restraints holding her firmly against the table, while also exposing her legs and immaculately shaven intimate areas. 'It's a good angle.' He continued. 'Shows exactly what he's missing.'
*
Logan typed in his passwords and looked at the laptop screen. His banking would raise an eyebrow of any law enforcement and he kept multiple different tabs and accounts. Familiar with paying his fiancée a weekly wage, he had all her details, but it burned him that she had been forced to give up her codes. He should have set up a private, confidential account for her too. Would it have mattered? Would they have found that too?
$250,000 would reduce his account dramatically and he'd be forced to up his business dealings in order to recoup the loss. He hovered over the button. A quarter of a million was a lot of money. It had taken him quite some time to earn that income if earn was the right description. Could he replace her? Could he replace the cash? How long would it take him to get back on track? What would happen if he didn't send the payment? Would they hurt her? He looked at the last photo he received, and his heart ached to see her naked upon a coffee table, face down and straddled so that she couldn't move.
He pondered his reaction. Could he make all this go away? Would they release her even if he paid the money? Could he rescue her without compromising his banking? His mind raced as the seconds ticked by.
