Taking Care Ch 02

My cheek was stuck to wet vinyl. Wet from my own drool, I realized, insult added to injury. My head was throbbing. I tried to move but I couldn't, couldn't even feel my limbs.

"What the FUCK, Ben?!" It was a stranger. A man. Where was I?

"Quiet the

fuck

down, Grady." Smokey's voice was a harsh whisper. It was still dark out, although there were lights. Streetlights. "We're allowed to bring a woman."

"Jesus Christ, I don't think THIS is what he meant! A WILLING WOMAN, BEN!" Grady's voice was screechy with his panic. I imagined that was irritating as fuck to Smokey - excuse me, Ben - and I let myself savor his displeasure for a moment.

"She was plenty willing last night, and she'll be willing again. This is just a transition. Change is hard."

Change is hard? I swore, when I regained control of my appendages, I would change his fucking face, scratch that, I would change his fucking dick, with a hammer, and see how he -

"Ben, Jesus Christ, be practical." Grady was actually begging now. "People are going to be looking for her. The last thing we need is a bunch of cops invading the homestead looking for some chick. What the fuck were you thinking? What are we going to do?"

"You don't get it!" Ben snapped, his patience evidently running out. "She's the one for me. I knew it as soon as I laid fucking eyes on her. We are building a real future out there and she needs to be part of it. She'll agree, I know she will, we just didn't have time and she's too fucking skittish. But she'll get there. This is non-fucking-negotiable."

Grady was quietly muttering to himself, and the lights began to move. My stomach rolled, but I managed not to puke. I thought the room was just spinning, but realized the lights were swirling because we were driving. Oh god.

I was trapped with an insane man who'd decided he was in love with me and the car was fucking moving and I couldn't feel my body. I started to hyperventilate. At least, I think, I couldn't actually fully feel it, but I vaguely wondered if I was having a heart attack, some unintended consequence of the drugs.

"Besides, no one will be looking for her, not for a while anyway. She was out here by herself, on a road trip with no firm destination. I cleared out her campsite and left her car in town, without the plates."

It felt like the floor dropped out from beneath me. He was right. And I'd told him all of that, offered it up willingly in exchange for a game of air hockey. I was such a fucking idiot. Oh god, I'd called Aunt Lisa yesterday morning. I mentioned camping but not where. She wouldn't expect another call for days. Who knew where I'd be by then? They wouldn't find me. Maybe not ever.

"Her name is Skylar."

He must have found my wallet. I could hear the pride when he said it, could hear his smile. And that's what finally broke me. The first fat, salty tear meandered from my right eye, across the bridge of my nose, picked up speed at my left eye and trickled down my temple into my hair. I couldn't even move my hands to brush it away.

I tuned out the rest of their conversation and let myself drift, the drugs still heavy in my system.

----------

When I came to again, the sky was bright. I was on my back now, my head on Ben's lap, still in the backseat of his Jeep. I shuddered; this was far too much like the position he'd held me in last night. He must have felt some movement, because his fingers started running through my hair.

I could feel my body now, could feel pins and needles everywhere, but I still couldn't move. A wave of despair washed over me. I had never felt so absolutely helpless.

Ben bent himself over me, his face worried and sad. "Skylar?"

I tested my facial muscles, could feel some movement. Still, I sounded drunk as I tried to form words. "Why?" It was croaked and pathetically sad sounding, but he seized on it, eager. He was nodding like he'd been waiting for this, to explain.

"Like I told you at the bar, my friend has land in New Mexico. It's a

lot

of land, actually, with some water. We've been building a homestead there, taking building trips out there every year, but with all the shit that's been going down, we decided to accelerate the timeline and called everyone home now.

"You're going to love this place, Skylar. I know you will. This can be your something

more

."

I took a minute to process that, the happily ever after implied (emphasis on

ever

), and to practice swallowing and moving my tongue. When I tried speaking again, it was still slurred, but a little clearer.

"I thought you were ex-military."

Ben nodded, those pretty eyes looking confused but hopeful. "Justin and I served together in Afghanistan."

I shook my head the little bit I could. "Ex-military guys like rules and law and order. Ex-military guys

protect

women." My voice cracked at the end. My Uncle Chris was ex-military, but I left that part out. I wouldn't be giving Ben any more of my truths.

"I do like law and order and rules. And Skylar," he cradled my face, let his eyes bore heavily into mine. "I will protect you with my

life

. Believe that if you don't believe anything else. You are

mine

now, Skylar. I'll take care of you."

I held his eye contact for a beat, waiting for him to recognize his hypocrisy. When it became clear he wasn't going to connect those dots, I tried to rally the thick, tired muscles of my face to respond with the obvious.

"And who will protect me from you?"

He sighed and shook his head, looking resigned. "I broke your trust, I know it baby. I really am sorry. I'll earn it back. I will. I just couldn't leave you behind."

He played with my hair, traced the lines of my face, massaged my temples lightly as the car rolled on along the highway. It did actually help my headache, but I kept my eyes closed, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of my attention. When he spoke again, an hour or many hours later, I honestly didn't know, I thought maybe he was talking to himself.

"You felt it too, I know you did. No woman has ever made me feel like that. You said it yourself, that I made you feel so good? That's not just sex, Sky. That was connection. This is the rough part, but our story will be a beautiful one."

I kept my eyes closed.

----------

I woke up to Ben directing Grady to stop behind a cinder block building. "Let us out here and then grab us the bathroom key before you gas up."

I suspect Grady didn't appreciate being ordered about like this, but Ben couldn't exactly let me about in public. I was beginning to get a little excited actually, wondering how many people were on the other side of the building. I suspected if I started screaming, we'd have a crowd sooner than they could get me out of here.

Some of that eagerness must have shown on my face, because as Ben pulled me from the car into his arms, he spoke a low warning into my hair.

"Now Bunny, you might be having some ideas, and that's understandable. But I want you to understand the situation before you make any decisions. I'm going to give you a little context.

"There's a SIG Sauer P365 in the holster under my sweatshirt. I don't say that to make you feel threatened, sweet girl, you do not ever need to fear my firearms. But if someone were to come here, if someone were to try to take you from me, I would consider that person a threat. And I would not hesitate to remove that threat."

He shifted me so my head rested against his chest. His big arms wrapped around me, my legs dangling over. For all the world, it looked like he was whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

"Now, that would be loud, and messy. It would definitely attract some attention that I think we both understand I wouldn't be too keen on. So I'm taking a risk right now, letting you out of the car. I don't like seeing you all fucked up on these drugs, Bunny. I don't want to have to give you more. But I think you understand that, and I think you don't want any strangers getting hurt on your behalf. Am I right about that?"

He was, but I kept my face blank, kept my stare off to the distance. Fuck this motherfucker.

Grady came around with the key a minute later, then left to fill up the Jeep. Ben waited for him to leave before unlocking the door and carrying me inside.

"Can you stand?"

I shook my head, a tear leaking out as the indignity of what was about to happen struck me. I had to pee so badly I was honestly grateful I hadn't pissed myself in the car. But I couldn't even move my legs, much less stand on them. I could wiggle my fingers and toes, and swing my arms, but that was the extent of it. He was going to have to help me.

"Don't be embarrassed," he soothed, pulling down my pants and underwear and setting me on the toilet. "Can you balance?"

I could do that at least, it was a relief to realize. "Will you wait outside?"

He nodded but held my eyes. "I'm trusting you."

Fumbling for the toilet paper after was an exercise in frustration, but eventually I managed. He came back when he heard the toilet flush, which I accomplished with my elbow. He leaned me forward onto his shoulder as he pulled my jeans back up and then scooped my ass up on his forearm. I must have looked like a child with him carrying me like that, like I was hugging him. I closed my eyes and blocked it out. My dignity was the least of my concerns right now.

While we waited for Grady outside, I finally gave in to my curiosity. "What did you give me?"

At least he had the decency to look ashamed. "They were tranquilizers, meant for a much bigger animal I'm afraid. I just gave you a small fraction of a dose, but you're such a little slip of a thing..."

I wondered if they were horse tranquilizers or something for hunting. I guess it didn't matter. The damage was done.

Grady pulled back around, but moved into the passenger seat while Ben tucked me into the back again. While Ben went to take a turn in the bathroom, I glared daggers into the back of Grady's head.

"Aiding and abetting..."

"What?" He turned to look at me. It was the first time we'd made eye contact.

"I was just thinking what the charges against you would be." It would have helped my pride if I could shake the last bit of numbness from my cheeks before I said my piece, but time was of the essence. "I thought aiding and abetting a kidnapping, but we've crossed state lines by now, so I guess it'd be human trafficking instead."

"I'm not fucking transporting you for sex." He was instantly defensive. Good. I let my voice absolutely drip with disdain when I replied.

"What exactly are you transporting me for then, Grady? You think he wants me for

conversation

? I make a mean cherry pie, maybe that's it. Or, I know, he's probably just looking for someone to play

bridge with

." That last came out as a hiss. "Take a little personal responsibility, dickwad. There's a human being drugged and trapped in your car. He's taking me home to rape and keep. And you're

helping him

."

He cussed but didn't answer, and Ben was back a moment later.

Grady's phone started pinging as we pulled back onto the interstate. "Mitch and Jason are still in Casper packing up. They're pissed we left without telling them. What do I say?"

That surprised me; I'd assumed I'd lost more time to the horse tranqs. But a glance out the window confirmed the sun was high, so it was only around noon.

"Tell them something came up, and I'll explain in Pagaute."

The name meant nothing to me, but I filed it away in my mind.

My name is Skylar Hughes, I'm being held in Paguate, New Mexico. They are armed

. Would I ever get a chance to say it? I'm sure he destroyed my phone, and landlines were wishful thinking. If I could get ahold of his cell while he slept tonight, could I unlock it with his face if his eyes were closed? Would we arrive at their 'homestead' before nightfall? How much worse would it be for me if we did? My mind was swirling.

I tried to focus on my muscles, instead. My head felt decent; I bet in an hour or two I'd be able to speak normally. As I'd proven to myself in the bathroom, I could control my arms and hands somewhat, although my fingers were pretty useless. I could shift my legs and feet, but they definitely felt prickly and weak.

I spent the next several hours focusing on one finger or toe at a time, cycling through, constricting and relaxing. It got nearly meditative, although that might have been a lingering effect of the drugs.

There were brief stops for food, but Ben looked meaningfully at me before we were ever around people, and his earlier threat was heavy in my mind. Maybe he was bluffing. Or maybe he was crazy enough to kill someone on my behalf. If Grady ever grew some balls and tried to stop this madness, would Ben shoot him? I wish I knew what I was dealing with, just how unstable Ben was. Then again, the proof was in the pudding. Pretty fucking unstable.

----------

It wasn't yet 6:00 when we pulled off I-40 - still light enough for me to see. The road passed through a small town, maybe technically a village. The buildings were mostly corrugated steel painted white or beige, with a few adobe structures in the mix. So much space in between. It was like some giant had picked up all the buildings in a normal town and threw them in the air, letting them land where they may, spread out at odd angles. The road snaked between them. A church, a bar. A row of mailboxes. A school.

The town petered out behind us, and the road continued mostly north, following a creek.

"That's the Seboyeta Creek," Ben told me, following my gaze. "It's not far now." My stomach turned.

It wasn't hard to tell when we'd arrived. A massive chain link fence topped in razor wire spread out as far as I could see in two directions. Eventually we reached a gate, and Ben spoke into a radio box. I was too distracted to listen now, my heart rate picking up, but the gate rolled open along a track, and back closed once we'd passed. I had been trapped for the last 12 hours, but it felt worse now, somehow maybe even worse than being drugged. This felt permanent.

We approached a large building, some sort of a community center. There were so many trucks parked outside, and men walking around - a few with automatic rifles. No American flags, but a few variations of another insignia I didn't recognize.

The building was nicer than the structures we'd passed in town. Ben pulled up in front but made no motions to get out.

"Let Justin know we're here and that I'll be up to check in shortly." His hand was fidgeting on the gear shift. "And Grady? Light on the details for now. I'll fill him in soon."

The door slammed shut without a response from Grady, who was quickly pulled into a back slapping embrace outside. The air out there was celebratory.

Ben pulled around, following a gravel road that blended into the rocky scrub until it was almost invisible. We drove past a hodgepodge of structures - a metal garage, some tanks I assumed held fuel or water, an assortment of trailers and tiny houses. The road hugged close to a high canyon wall, and as we rounded a curve, a prettier house caught my eye.

It was another tiny home, built on a trailer base with a propane tank on the cross bar. But the long side of it was all timber and glass, modern with horizontal lines. It was tall, with an angled, flat roof. Ben pulled up along the back of it, his knee bouncing, his energy still nervous but happier now.

"Home sweet home, Bunny." His pride was unmistakable.

I had managed to get myself upright in the back seat, and as he pulled the door open, Ben's arms hovered, obviously wanting to lift me. But he let me slowly pull myself up in the door frame. I got my feet under me and my core balanced, but I crumpled with my first attempted step. He was scooping me up before I could move to catch myself, my back against his chest, my elbows resting on his bent forearms. He wrapped his arms around my middle and rocked me side to side in a joyful sort of shuffle-dance.

"This is going to be a good place for us, Skylar. You're going to be happy here."

He turned me and hoisted me up over his shoulder then, bounding up the steps and laughing at my startled squeal. Inside, it was clean and minimally furnished, everything smelling new. He had obviously never lived here.

"I bought it last summer, drove it down in the fall. We're connected to water but the pressure's not great, being so far from the well. If it bugs you, we could dig a secondary well next year. It's expensive, but I have savings."

He set me down on the sofa, moving excitedly through the small space, straightening the few odds and ends on the counter as he rambled on.

"There's propane for the stove, since I like to cook on gas. And the wood stove for heat. But I was able to fit five solar panels on the roof for everything else, which should be plenty for us. We would only have trouble with big draw items like a microwave or hairdryer." He looked up at me, ready to backtrack, so much fucking sincerity in his heavily lashed eyes. I had to keep reminding myself that this was not a happy homecoming, this was the fantasy of a crazy person.

"Do you need a hairdryer? I could figure it out if you do."

I looked at him carefully, trying to judge whether I could trust his light mood.

"I don't need a hair dryer, Ben." I said it slowly, needing him to hear me. "I need

autonomy

."

He prowled back to me, still grinning and reaching for my face, placing kisses on my cheeks, forehead, my closed eyes. I sat through it mutely, trying to ignore the warmth. If this were real, it honestly would have been so nice.

"You've never called me that before. I like my name in your mouth."

His hands were wandering, his kisses getting more insistent. Goosebumps spread over my skin as his fingers slipped lightly under my tee shirt and along my spine. I stayed still, horrified at my body's reaction to his touch, my cheeks flaring hot as I focused on not responding.

"I'd like something more of mine in your mouth..." He drew away before I could fully panic at that statement. "But I need to go check in with Justin. I won't be long."

He sighed and headed to the door, pausing there to look at me.

"This is my family, Skylar. My chosen family. But they don't know you yet." He let that linger, the implications swirling around us. Yes, the heavily armed men surrounding us were loyal to him, not me. I wouldn't soon forget it. "Stay inside, ok Bunny? I'll show you everything tomorrow, give you the full tour."

I nodded; I wasn't stupid. And he left.

----------

The solitude was a relief. I thought about where I'd been just 24 hours ago, warming soup on my camp stove and grinning about the hunky guy at the camp store. My heart broke a little to remember it, the person I thought he was then.

I looked around, sussing out this vastly different current reality. To my left was the kitchenette, with dark painted cabinets and butcher block counters. Next to the fridge was a door, presumably leading to the bathroom, and beyond that a narrow set of stairs led up to a loft. In front of me was the wall of windows, interrupted only by the front door and a round, modern woodstove which stretched up to the ceiling. A small table and two chairs finished out the space to my right.

Taking advantage of the empty house, I scootched my butt off the couch. Fuck, this was humiliating. I crawled my way to the bathroom, using the sink vanity to pull myself back to standing. I wanted to be clean, and to be redressed by the time he came back. With shaking hands, I got my clothes off and the shower on. The mirror revealed a litany of red marks on my shoulder blades, left from our rendezvous in the alley. The soreness had seemed sexy last night. Now it felt ugly and violent.

I was able to stay upright in the shower, but I sat back down on the floor to dry off. The last thing I needed was to pass out and have him find me naked and vulnerable. He would see it as proof that I needed him, I was sure, rather than the result of his own fucked up behavior.