Chapter 35th

Chris had my face between his palms, kissing me intensely when the familiar chime buzzed through the air a second time. It felt like a rude awakening, like being reluctantly released by his lips in a noisy closing as he turned his face abruptly to the door, suddenly aware and aggravated.

Silence filled the room again as he held me still, his face turned to the side, the two of us frozen silent by the expectation of that sound.

Unfailing, it buzzed a third time, as if the walls vibrated gently with its coming.

"What is this?" he demanded slightly out of breath, turning back to face me. His lips were red… the top of his cheeks was flustered and his mouth was half-open for air. I'd seen that state before, I knew what it meant. I knew how close I was to something I couldn't even picture, couldn't even find a word for – being consumed?

"What is it?" He shook me, demanding an answer which I couldn't give. All I could do was stare at him dumbly, failing to understand it myself. "What did you tell that cop, huh?" He clenched his jaw at the rhythm with which he tightened his fingers around my hair, threatening pain.

The cop?! I had said nothing… Nothing I could think of, not intentionally. Unless I had answered him wrongly at some turn, and some lie had been caught. It suddenly made sense – it might be the cop! Agitation filled me again, I fidgeted, held Chris's hand, tried to pluck it away, slapped it… these little tokens of resistance were like a small stone rolling down a snow-caked mountain, and soon I'd find myself attempting to brawl him anew, energized by the possibility of escape. If someone was at the door, if I could just get past him, open that door, scream… As his hands effectively secured mine, I gambled on the latter, sucked in a breath of air, readying my lungs for a scream – naïve hope! Ignoring both attempt and intention, Chris pressed his palm to my mouth, silencing me.

"Shhh shh shh… not a word from you!" he commanded in a whisper, and slowly pulled me along in his grip, towards the wall, where he stood and listened for a second.

Then, with his free hand, he seized the doorknob, turned it slowly, noiselessly, pushed the door ajar and again waited. The house lay in silence for a couple of seconds, until suddenly a loud bang on the front door echoed through the corridor downstairs. I heard Chris click his tongue with annoyance.

I moved under his hand and moaned, testing my voice. He directed me an angry shush and pressed my face more firmly, before turning back towards the door and listening with concern. I timed my movement, aiming for perfection: I pulled down on his hand with both of mine and simultaneously screamed as loud as I could:

"HELP!"

Chris pushed me away and slammed the door shut at once. I didn't know how much of that scream actually got out, but I didn't have time to calculate my chances. I stood straight again quick enough, recovering my jolted balance and readying my next move... But when he turned to look at me, I feared his eyes: the sharp look they directed at me, and what it possibly meant.

"What did I tell you, huh?" he demanded, slowly turning his entire body to face me. "Who is that on the door?"

I was mute, moving slowly in reaction to his movements, dreading his approach… but it came, and I had nowhere to run: He stepped forward like a steaming engine and grabbed me by the root of my hair before I tried to dodge.

"Ouch! Chris!" I winced as he pulled my head back to face his.

"Huh? I asked you a question! Who is that?"

"I… ouch…" I cried ever so slightly, trying to keep his pull from hurting me "…I… I don't know!"

"Then why did you scream??! HUH??" his voice shook, as did his grip on me, both running impatient at my lack of words.

"Why do you think?!!" anger peaked through fear, and I answered.

Then, through his clenched jaw and gnawing teeth, through his sharp penetrating gaze, a short laugh broke out… it broke out and it lingered, chilling me. When his voice came again, it was the usual composed, low tone. And I was learning to fear this version more than the rageful one.

"What do I think? Well… I think you want me to hurt you! And I wonder why that is." He furrowed his brow, taunting me.

"I want you to leave me the fuck alone!!" I yelled, my throat coarse and weakened by my failed attempts. It didn't matter: in there, no one could hear us - but I knew that. I hadn't forgotten. I merely wanted to scream.

"Well, I have bad news for you…" he replied, tightening his grip on my hair and pulling it an inch further down – as much punishment as he'd allow himself to inflict, for now. Another violent knock shook the door downstairs – the distant, muffled pound reaching us here.

Chris frowned down at me, his eyebrows tensing lightly, his eyes travelling across my face, thinking, planning… possibly deciding what he would do to me, but then growing angrier as he acknowledged the current impediment, an obstacle that threatened his carefully prepared leisure time inside that panic room. It almost made me want to laugh at him, to experiment some taunting myself.

"I guess you won't have that much time anymore." I risked saying it – the slightly more intense pain his grip administered being worth that sliver of satisfaction.

"Oh, Trust me, I'll have plenty…" he inched closer, his face very close to mine, his eyes narrowing into that threat "…And I want to see you speak so boldly then!"

And he let go of me – abruptly, so that I nearly fell back - and returned to the door, resting his ear near it, attempting to hear something.