Chapter 82: Royale With Cheese

I’m sitting on the couch in the living room, my body still trembling from the aftershocks of what just happened. The air feels thick and heavy, carrying the lingering scent of sex and sweat. Tessa looms over me, the gun in her hand glinting menacingly in the dim light. My eyes dart nervously between the weapon and her face, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.

‘I wish she wouldn’t be so rude with my Christmas present.’

The others are still passed out around us, their drug-induced slumber undisturbed by the night’s events. I can hear Erica’s soft snores from the table her head is lying on, each one a painful reminder of my betrayal. The guilt sits like a stone in my stomach, cold and unyielding.

Tessa clears her throat, drawing my attention back to her. In her free hand, she holds a piece of paper, the note she made me write. My stomach churns as I recognize my own messy scrawl, the letters wobbling and uneven from the combination of alcohol, fear, and shaking hands.

“Let’s go over this one more time, shall we?” Tessa says, her voice low and dangerous. She begins to read aloud, her words dripping with false sweetness.

“Dearest Erica,” she starts, and I wince at the endearment. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I’ve realized that my heart belongs to someone else, someone who understands me in ways you never could.”

I close my eyes, unable to look at her as she continues. The words, though written in my hand, feel foreign and wrong.

“Tessa and I have fallen in love. We’re leaving together to start a new life. Please don’t try to find us. It’s better this way. I hope you can forgive me someday. Goodbye forever, Jason.”

Tessa finishes reading and looks up at me, her grey eyes gleaming with triumph. “It’s perfect, don’t you think?” she asks, her tone sickeningly sweet.

I nod mutely, my throat too tight to speak. The reality of what’s about to happen crashes over me in waves. We’re really going to leave. I’m going to break Erica’s heart and destroy everything we’ve built together.

‘The second that video is gone, Tessa is dead.’

“Now,” Tessa says, her voice hardening, “let’s go over the plan one more time. We’re going to slip out quietly, get in Erica’s car, and drive. Don’t even think about trying anything funny. Remember, one wrong move, and that video goes viral.”

I nod again, feeling utterly defeated. As Tessa begins to gather our things, I cast one last glance at Erica.

‘We will get through this. I can feel it in my gut. Whether you kill Tessa or I kill her. I just hope you can forgive me for acting without your direct consent, my love. Everything I do from here is for you.’

*****

The red Porsche Carrera GT glides to a stop in the McDonald’s parking lot, its sleek form a stark contrast to the utilitarian fast food surroundings. The engine purrs softly before Tessa cuts it off, plunging us into an eerie silence broken only by the occasional crinkle of paper bags and the distant hum of traffic.

I’m bound tightly to the passenger seat, the seatbelt digging into my skin in a way that’s both uncomfortable and oddly familiar. The leather seat beneath me is cool against my back, a small mercy in the stuffy confines of the car.

Tessa turns to me, a Big Mac in her hand, her grey eyes unreadable in the dim light of the parking lot. She brings the burger to my lips, and I take a tentative bite. The taste is familiar and comforting, a stark contrast to the surreal situation I find myself in.

“Hurry up,” Tessa says, her voice lacking its usual edge. There’s something different about her tone, a weariness that wasn’t there before.

I chew, confusion furrowing my brow. “I really am,” I mumble around a mouthful of burger, meeting her gaze.

Tessa sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I know,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “Sorry, I’m just... stressed.”

The admission catches me off guard. For a moment, I see a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes, a crack in her usually impenetrable facade. It’s unsettling, this glimpse of humanity in someone I’ve come to see as a monster.

“I didn’t ask you to stop.” It’s an odd thing to say, given the circumstances, but I don’t want her to feel like I owe her.

Tessa nods, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I know,” she repeats. “I just... I kept hearing your stomach. I felt bad.”

The statement hangs in the air between us, heavy with implications. I stare at her, trying to reconcile this moment of concern with the woman who had threatened and violated me just hours ago. The cognitive dissonance is dizzying.

Tessa reaches for the cup holder and retrieves the large Sprite. She holds it up, the condensation on the plastic catching the light from the parking lot lamps.

“Do you want some Sprite?” she asks, her voice oddly gentle.

I hesitate for a moment, then nod. My throat feels dry and parched from the salty burger and the stress of our situation. Tessa brings the straw to my lips, and I crane my neck forward, taking a long sip.

As I drink, I notice Tessa’s expression changing. A real smile spreads across her face, wide and unsettling. There’s something in her eyes that makes my skin crawl, a glint of something dangerous lurking behind the facade of kindness.

“Isn’t this cute?” she says, her voice taking on a singsong quality. “It’s like you’re sick, and I’m taking care of you.”

I sigh, my shoulders slumping. The comparison is twisted, a mockery of genuine care.

Suddenly, Tessa’s grin turns evil, her eyes hardening. The shift is so abrupt it makes me flinch.

“Did you hear me?” she asks, her voice low and threatening. “I said, isn’t this cute?”

The words are clearly laced with menace, a command rather than a question. The air in the car seems to thicken, tension crackling between us like static electricity. I can feel my heart rate picking up, adrenaline flooding my system in response to the perceived threat.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to remain calm. Meeting her gaze, I nod slowly.

“Yes,” I say, my voice steady despite the fear churning in my gut. “It’s just like that.”

Tessa’s expression softens, her eyes taking on a dreamy quality. “You know what would make this even cuter?” she asks, her voice lilting and playful. “A kiss.”

I hesitate for a moment, my mind racing. The role I have to play weighs heavily on me, a constant reminder of the precarious situation we’re in. With a silent sigh, I nod, steeling myself for what’s to come.

Tessa’s face lights up, a childlike excitement spreading across her features. She reaches out, her fingers gently cupping my chin. With surprising tenderness, she guides my face towards hers, closing the distance between us.

Her lips meet mine, soft and warm. The kiss starts slow, almost chaste, a stark contrast to the forceful encounters we’ve had before. Her tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entry. I part them, allowing her to deepen the kiss.

Tessa’s tongue explores my mouth with a gentleness I didn’t know she possessed. It’s loving, almost reverent, as if she’s savoring every moment. Her fingers trail along my jawline.

The leather seat creaks softly as Tessa shifts closer, her free hand coming to rest on my chest.

I feel a surge of annoyance bubbling up inside me, threatening to break my composure. But I push it down, reminding myself why I have to do this. With a conscious effort, I return the kiss with equal fervor, matching her movements and intensity.

My bound hands twitch with the instinct to reach out, to throttle her. The ropes bite into my wrists, a sharp reminder of my captivity. I channel that frustration into the kiss, pouring all my pent-up emotions into it.

Tessa moans softly against my lips, clearly pleased with my response. Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging gently as she deepens the kiss further.

Tessa breaks away from the kiss, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated, and there’s a flush high on her cheeks that spreads down her neck. She looks at me with an expression of pure wonder, as if she’s seeing me for the first time. Her grey eyes, usually so cold and calculating, now shine with an almost manic light, like twin stars burning too bright and too fast.

“Oh, Jason,” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. “That was... that was...”

Tessa leans in close, her forehead resting against mine. I can feel the rapid beat of her pulse.

“I definitely made the right choice,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me. Her words are barely audible over the soft hum of the car’s air conditioning.

She pulls back slightly, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes me want to squirm in my seat. But the ropes holding me in place prevent even that small movement.

“This feels real, Jason,” Tessa says, her voice filled with a certainty that sends a chill down my spine. “I promise you, I’ll make you see that someday. Even if you can’t picture it yet.”

Her words hang in the air between us, heavy with promise and threat. I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry despite the Sprite I just drank.

“Okay,” I manage to say, the word coming out hoarse and strained.

Tessa’s face lights up at my response, her smile widening to show teeth. It’s a predatory expression, reminding me of a shark that’s just caught the scent of blood in the water.

“Good boy,” she purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Her hand moves to cup my cheek, her thumb stroking gently over my cheekbone. The touch is tender, almost loving, and it makes my skin crawl with its wrongness.

*****

The Porsche Carrera GT purrs beneath us as we speed down the highway, the landscape blurring into a smear of muted colors outside the windows.

I shift slightly in my seat, the ropes around my wrists chafing against my skin. The leather seat is cool against my back, a small comfort in the suffocating atmosphere of the car. The air conditioning hums softly, creating a bubble of artificial calm around us.

“Where are we going?” I ask, breaking the tense silence that has stretched between us for miles.

Tessa’s eyes remain fixed on the road ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel at the perfect ten and two position. A small smile plays at the corners of her lips, enigmatic and unsettling.

“As far as the road takes us,” she replies, her voice carrying a dreamy quality that sends a shiver down my spine.

I nod, unsure how to respond to such a vague answer. “Alright,” I mutter, more to myself than to her.

Suddenly, Tessa reaches out and turns off the radio, cutting off the soft melodies that had been filling the background. The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the steady thrum of the engine and the occasional whoosh of a passing car.

“Let’s talk,” she says, her voice taking on an almost playful lilt. “Nikki told me about all your lunch meetings. She says you’re a very capable conversationalist.”

“What do you want to talk about?” I ask cautiously, eyeing Tessa warily.

“How many times have you been kidnapped?” She asks me.

Tessa’s question hangs in the air, the weight of it pressing down on me like a physical force. I let out a long breath, my mind racing as I consider how to respond.

“I think...” I begin hesitantly, “This would be my third time.”

Tessa nods, her eyes still focused on the road ahead. “That’s a lot,” she says, her voice a mix of curiosity and something darker.

A small, humorless laugh escapes my lips. “I know,” I reply, the words coming out more bitter than I intended.

Tessa speaks again, her voice carrying a note of genuine interest. “How am I doing compared to Lindsey and Lyra’s kidnapping so far?”

The question sends a jolt of anxiety through me. My mind immediately goes to Lindsey, to the dark, oppressive room beneath her mansion where I was trapped for what felt like an eternity. The memory of those two weeks is a kaleidoscope of terror and despair, the constant fear of isolation, the uncertainty of whether I’d ever see the light of day again.

‘If Erica did it, she wouldn’t make it so scary. I just felt so alone.’

Tessa must see the fear on my face because her expression softens. “How bad was it?” she asks, her voice tinged with what seems like genuine pity.

I swallowed hard, and my throat suddenly dried. “It was... horrible,” I manage to croak out. “Lindsey, she... she ripped off all my fingernails.” My hands twitch involuntarily at the memory, phantom pain shooting through my fingers. “And she threatened so much worse unless I gave myself over completely.”

Tessa’s eyes widen, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Jesus,” she breathes.

I continue, the words spilling out of me now. “They’d leave me alone for 12 hours at a time in complete darkness. And then...” I trail off, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “Then they’d have a three-way with me until I was so exhausted I’d fall asleep.”

My whole body is trembling now, the memories flooding back with vivid intensity. The feel of the cold floor against my skin and the sound of footsteps approaching always filled me with equal parts dread and desperate hope for human contact.

Tessa’s eyes widen in horror. She glances at me, then back to the road, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. The car slows slightly as she processes what I’ve said.

“Jason, I...” she begins but seems to struggle for words.

My breath comes in short, sharp gasps now, and I can feel a cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. The car suddenly feels too small, too confining. The seatbelt across my chest seems to tighten, and I struggle against the ropes binding my wrists, desperate for some kind of movement, some escape from the flood of memories.

Tessa must have noticed my distress because she quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road. The sudden stop jolts me back to the present, and I blink rapidly, trying to focus on the here and now.

“Jason,” Tessa says softly, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Jason, look at me.”

I turn to her, my vision blurry with unshed tears. To my surprise, I see genuine concern in her grey eyes. She reaches out slowly, telegraphing her movements, and places her hand on mine where it’s tied to the seatbelt. Her touch is warm, grounding.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry I brought that up. I had no idea it scared you that much…”

I take a shuddering breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

“Listen to me,” Tessa continues, her eyes never leaving mine. “I promise you, Jason. I promise I will never hurt you to get you to do what I want. Never.”

Her words hang in the air between us, heavy with sincerity. I search her face for any sign of deception but find none.

“And I swear to you,” she adds, her voice growing firmer, “I will never, ever just throw you into a room and turn off the lights. Not ever.”

Though calmer now, I take a deep breath, the crisp air from the AC filling my lungs.

“This is still kidnapping, you know,” I say softly. The words hang in the air between us, heavy with the weight of truth.

Tessa nods, her grey eyes meeting mine unflinchingly. There’s no shame in her gaze, no hint of remorse or doubt. “I know,” she replies, her voice steady and sure. The dying sunlight casts long shadows across her face, accentuating the sharp angles of her cheekbones and the determined set of her jaw.

She turns slightly in her seat, the leather creaking beneath her. Her hand, still resting on mine, gives a gentle squeeze. “But you have to understand, Jason,” she continues, her voice taking on an urgent tone. “If we were to head back right now, Erica would kill me on sight.”

She keeps going.

“I promise you I’ll earn your trust. I know it’s going to be difficult for a bit, but we will get past this and grow.”

Tessa’s words are filled with a certainty that’s almost frightening in its intensity.

“It won’t be easy,” she continues, her thumb tracing small circles on the back of my hand. “But I believe in us, Jason. I believe in what we could be together.”

‘I am going to bathe in this girl’s blood.’