The Way Back: Chapter 43

"Rise and shine."  Baker was standing there, over them, and Blair opened her eyes for the second time that day, still having difficulty adjusting her vision.  She remembered: she had fallen back to sleep on her lover's chest at some prison where they were being held against their will and tormented.  She rubbed her eyes in disbelief.  She was hungry, and her stomach hurt.

"Oh. It's you.  I keep thinking I'll wake up, and this nightmare will have been a mistake,"  she said.

He found her amazingly amusing at times.  "Ms. Cramer.  Good morning.  Sleep looks well on you.  Not so much for our other prisoner."

"My hand is numb.  I cannot feel my fingers."  She pointed to the hand in the cuff.

"I see."  He leaned over, releasing her.  "You cannot fight me, trust that, and you cannot run.  You will be dead before your feet hit the floor, and then Prince Charming here will be ours."

"I'm not running."  She rubbed her wrist after he undid the cuff.  "You know something, Baker," she said, swinging her legs over the bed and heading to the fridge for water, "You don't scare me."

He grabbed her by her hair.  "I should."  He drew her close to his face.  "Make sure you take a good look at me.  You should fear.  Fear everyone here."  He let go, tossing her to the floor and slammed out of the room.

Todd didn't move.  Put your hands on her again, and I will rip your head off your body, Baker.

Blair remained silent.  She was pushing her luck, she knew she was.  These were not regular bullies.  She reminded herself to be quieter.  She looked up to Todd, he was not moving, still staring at the ceiling, breathing quietly.  Her heart broke.  She had hoped..."Oh Todd, please?  Come back, come on."

She folded her arms and sat with her back against the bed.  Manning, stay cool.  The cameras are on.  You can't let on that it's not Blair against the likes of them, it's you and Blair.  Always been, always will be.  A very angry you and Blair.  If they see you move, they'll know.

She tipped her head back, and her hair was brushing against his hip.  He wanted to put his hands into her hair, turn her to him, and kiss her more passionately than ever.  She was carrying his child.  Again.  Joy spread through him like his own blood flowing.  He loved her so much.  And he was no longer afraid.  With her beside him, he could face anything.  He remained still.  It was the only way that he could hope to get the upper hand and ultimately save her.

"Todd.  Remember when we first found out you were the heir to the Lord fortune?  We went out and bought all that stuff.  I was pregnant at the time, and I was rollerskating.  I almost hurt myself, and you got angry, swearing off skates.  Those were wonderful times for us.  But you know, we're going to have more.  Now that there's another little one on the way.  That's if we get out of here."

Blair, come on.  You know we will get out of here.  As long as I am breathing, I will keep us together and alive.

"I know what you would say, something like, as long as you're living, you'll make sure I am, too, or something like that."

Good shot, babe.

"Can't you move, give me a sign, something?  Todd? I love you?"

I love you too, Blair.  I love you so much.  You're the reason I'm alive today.  You're the reason I came out of my safe place.  I came out for you.  I live for you.

"You're everything to me.  My life."

Sing, babe.  Sing to me.  Sing.

She got very quiet.  She knew they were waiting for the next one, whoever was going to be their last visitor.  It felt final and real, but somehow, she was not as afraid as she was the night before when that man had cut Todd.  "If I have to go," she turned to look at him, "I want to go with you there.  Of course, I'd prefer that you look into my eyes and talk to me, but as long as you are with me...I thank God for the second chance we have gotten, even if they were short."

Me too, I thank God every day, and I'm not the praying type.  I never thought I'd see you again.  You bring me so much.

"Blair, you're talking to yourself again."  She got up and finished her water, doing some stretches to get her muscles going.  Her hand had feeling again, and she could tell it was a sunny and bright day.  She looked at the chair in the center of the room.  Wires were feeding into the ankle and wrist bonds.  She shuddered.   What he must have endured.  She put her hand on the chair's arm, and then removed it, as if it were hot.

It's all right.  No one is going to hurt you.  Not while I am living.

She crawled back into the bed and snuggled next to him.  He so wanted to put his arms around her and tell her she was safe and with him, but he knew it was the difference between them surviving and getting out or being killed, slowly.  In fact, he was pretty positive that if they knew he was not catatonic, they would move things along faster and use her to get him to talk.  He didn't want to think about it.  Afraid of that outcome, he remained very still, and though tempted to hold her, he kept his arms at bay.  She dozed.  

He felt her breathing in sleep mode.  Wake up, Blair.  Sing to me.  Sing, babe, I want to hear you sing.  She continued to sleep against him, her breathing was shallow and quick.  He wanted to put his hand on her belly and protect his child and her.  He waited, still, and she slept.

An hour or so passed, she woke again, with a start this time, and brushed a tear off her face.  She'd been dreaming.  It's okay, babe.  It's all right, don't cry.  She stared into his face.  She leaned over him, and in a desperate move, he blew out of his nose, hard, against her face.  He wished she would notice, and wished she could hear, and know.  She didn't have time to react, because they heard the footsteps in the hallway approaching.  She started to tremble.

It was Slice and Dice.  She felt sick.  "Morning.  Get up."

Manning, stay focused.  Don't let your guard down for a second.  I'm ready.  All he has to do is touch her.  I'm ready, and I'm strong.

She listened, getting up off the bed.  He looked her over, then said, "Get in the chair."

She didn't move at first.  No.  She needs her hands free to help us.  No!  Should I take him down now?  He can't fasten her to that chair.

She spoke up.  "I feel sick.  I'm. . .not feeling well."

"Pregnant.  We heard.  There's the bowl."  He pointed with the knife toward the toilet.  "You know," he said, watching her walk over and lean down, checking her behind, "I can just put him back in the chair, you know, if you'd rather.  What do you choose?  You in the chair and him on the bed, or him in the chair and you on the bed?"

Better not, asshole.  I'll cut you apart.

She was shaking so much she couldn't control it.  He saw it and laughed.  "Hmm, I can choose, if you like."  And he leaned over the bed, moving Todd to the chair.  

She wildly thought, "He can't strap Todd down.  I'll need him.  We'll need both of us to get out of this one."  She cried out, "Hey, can you help me?  I feel really dizzy?" And when he shifted his gaze to her, she had pulled off her top and was in her bra and pants.  

He walked over to her, and tapped his knife in his palm.  "What seems to be the trouble?"

"Nothing.  I'm guess I'm just lonely.  He's, well, he's probably never coming back.  It's sad, but it's true.  I tried everything.  I'm going to die, aren't I?"

"Yeah.  And hopefully, it will be my honor to set you free."

"Set me free.  Is that what you call it?"

"Yeah."  Tap.

"To me, being set free is acting on impulses.  The only thing is, who can act on impulses around here?  There's cameras everywhere.  So confining."  She leaned over so that her breasts fell forward in her bra.  She stood up, and through her tremors, she gave him the most seductive look she could muster.  Imagine Todd.  

He walked over to the wall, and pushed a few buttons.  "No cameras in here now."

She knows!  She felt me breathe at her.  She figured it out, and she knows.

"I see."

"Feeling better?"

"Yes, I think so."

His demeanor changed.  "Get over to the bed.  I didn't shut the cameras for you, I shut them for me.  What I'm going to do to you, they wouldn't want to see."  He tapped the knife on his palm faster.  Shaking, she went to the bed and listened to him.  There were no other choices.  She'd played her cards wrong this time, and shot a glance at Todd over The Slice and Dice's shoulder.  He was so still.  The man cut her bra strap with the knife and one side of it fell down, revealing one breast.  He drew the knife back as she fought him, and from nowhere, in one swift motion, his hand was caught from behind and his arm twisted behind his back.

She gasped and shrieked, "Todd!"

"Don't move a muscle, motherfucker."  Todd said.  In shock, Blair picked up her blouse, removed her bra, and put her top back on as Todd held The Slice and Dice at knifepoint.  He led him, knife at his throat, to the chair.  "I know just how to hook this thing up.  I've seen you do it hundreds of times, right, hundreds of times, over the years?"

Blair moved toward him, "No, Todd."  In her mind, flashed the moment she stopped him from beating Christian to a pulp when she had lost their first child.  He looked at her, anger seeping from every crevice, and then softened when his eyes met hers. 

"Was just following orders," the man said.

"Were your orders to rape my wife?  Were your orders to cut her?"

She handed him the bra, which he used to tie the tormenter's hands behind his back.  She gave him her belt, which he used to bind his ankles. "I should cut your throat."  Todd said, working fast to subdue him.  He was already sweating.  She knew that everything he was doing was hard for him.  She loved him so much, and even more as her hero.

"Yeah.  You should.  You took a lot of abuse from me over these last few years.  But it was fun while it lasted,"  he said.

Todd was stopped and drew the knife back, as if he were ready to end the man's life, when Blair grabbed his hand.  "No, Todd.  He's sick.  He's sick to do this.  He's sick, like Peter.  You don't want to be like him.  You don't want to be one of them."  He lowered his hand and wiping his eyes, he threw the man onto the bed, and hugged her with one arm, while holding the knife in protection out in front of them.  "Blair," he said, over her shoulder.  "Thank God you're all right.  You're having my baby."

"Yes," she said looking into his eyes.  He was there, looking at her, talking, and he was all right.

Down the hallway, the boss was just noticing the dead camera feed from 'The Manning Suite.'  Suiting up, he headed for their cell, lighter in hand.  He pulled the hood down over his head and proceeded to his destination.  "If you want something done . . ."

At the same moment, John, The Impostor, and Ray entered the building, and each had a gun.  Ray had vehemently objected until John reminded him of the reason they were headed there to prevent in the first place.  Within moments, with the backup John called in, most of the threats had been neutralized.  In addition to countless men who manned various areas in the compound, they had captured Burly, The Thin Man, and Baker.  That left the two biggest threats at large, and they were prepared for anything.

In a hub area by several off-shooting hallways, John noticed the dead camera feed.  "Manning," he said aloud.  They headed into the hallway that corresponded with the monitor number and proceeded with caution.

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