Voyeur Ch. 07

The kid was a fucking monster, had no appreciation for Ray's efforts, and Ray came precariously close to snapping the kid's neck and calling it an accident. After completing that job without wavering from the brief, Ray ruled out anything involving minors.

"Well, I think I've found a way we can get through a mutual discomfort," he announced.

"What?" Rachel's sense of rationality quickly returned. "How are you discomforted?"

"Never mind," Ray pulled a face, not wanting to get in that. "Just pick a game. I'm giving you a chance."

Rachel held her breath, afraid to hope. "If I win, you'll let me go?" she said in a whisper loaded with suppressed excitement.

This time Ray threw back his head and laughed heartily, until his conscience pricked him. "Sorry, Rachel. No. I mean it's a way we can get to know each other. If you win, I'll keep a respectful distance, for example. If I win..." his hazel eyes wandered thoughtfully about the room, then they gleamed wickedly as they came to rest on her face. "I get a prize, too."

Rachel sullenly shook her head. "I hate board games. I don't want to play."

"Don't be a fool, Rachel," Ray softly replied, his warning tone caught Rachel's attention. "We don't have to play board games." The attractive smile warmed his face. "We can play more adult games. Drinking games...?"

Rachel cynically eyed Ray's physique, knowing it'd take a lot to get him drunk, compared to her, who'd likely be unable to walk in no time, going by his confident air. Little did she know that Ray also had no intention of playing drinking games. He always stayed sharp.

"Or we can just play with the card deck?" Ray added. "Strip poker is a favourite." It was an overtly hopeful suggestion; Ray knew she'd never go for anything like strip poker. If she dared, he'd fleece her like a spring lamb.

"Chess." Rachel numbly pointed to a navy-blue box close to the surface of the pile.

"Great." Ray extracted it and inclined his head toward the door. "Let's go upstairs."

Rachel hurriedly dug around one of the bags and slipped on some sneakers before running after Ray. She followed him through the kitchen to the living room where he'd applied the cream to her neck, which actually worked wonders.

Ray began to set up the game, gesturing for Rachel to take a seat opposite at the hefty square table. She sat despondently, watching him set up the pieces for a while, then finally inspected a steaming mug of tea at her side.

"Yes, that's for you," Ray said, without taking his eyes from the board. "I figured Ben wasn't the tea-drinker."

Sexist bastard. Rachel stared woodenly at the glossy green mug and didn't answer.

"So, what are we playing for?" Ray asked pleasantly, shifting the board so it was parallel with the table edges.

Wringing her hands under the table, Rachel nervously shrugged.

Ray jogged his eyebrows at her. "Well, if I win, I want to make out with you for five minutes."

"So 'high-school'," Rachel murmured distastefully, though she'd never played such a game.

"Happy to take my prize to a more mature age?" Ray offered.

"No, thanks."

"So, what's your prize, Rachel?"

I want to go home. "I want to go for a walk outside."

"Hmm." In natural light, Ray's eyes seemed almost pale-green as he carefully considered. "Alright. But we'll be cuffed together. I won't compromise on that."

When the game commenced, Ray was surprised by Rachel's change in demeanour. She seemed both unsure of herself, and very focused at the same time.

After half an hour, Ray excused himself to put on some music, and when the tune's carried their way, Rachel pulled a strange face.

"You don't like jazz?" Ray asked, returning to the game.

Rachel quickly dropped her gaze from his inquisitive stare. "It's too sporadic. I like music I can sing along to."

"I enjoy that it's unpredictable," Ray explained. "My life, particularly my mind, is very scheduled at times. It's sort of a release for me." He spoke with meaning, but Rachel didn't understand what he was trying to convey and wasn't sure she wanted to.

Opening his mouth to say something else, Ray straightened, looking outraged as his queen meekly disappeared from the board.

"What the hell? How did you do that?" he frowned.

"With my horsey," Rachel said innocently.

Ray's eyes narrowed accusingly. "You lied to me."

"I never did!" Rachel protested; a guilty blush etched high on her cheekbones.

"You said you couldn't play!" Ray said indignantly. Staring at the board, his jaw dropped. "Holy fuck. You're dominating!"

"I said I hated boardgames!" Rachel said defensively, hoping he wasn't a violently sore loser. "I never said I couldn't play!"

Realising he'd been duped, an inexplicable thrill passed through Ray that Rachel so sneakily undermined him. What he enjoyed more than an easy victory, was a worthy opponent.

"Ah, ok. Well done," he ruefully accepted the development. "No more chit-chat."

Rachel shifted uneasily as Ray ceased flirting and fixed his full attention on the game, his face flexed with concentration. The way he stared intently at the board, predatorily eyed her helpless pieces, made Rachel feel very nervous.

Or perhaps it was the fact that now he was preoccupied, her own attention was back on the doorway. Ray might not keep his end of the bet. And even if he did, what about the next game? Rachel reminded herself that Ray stole her for a reason, and it wasn't to be bingo buddies.

The exit had to be through the doorway behind him. It was from where a slight draft swept through the house.

Now on autopilot, Rachel placidly moved her King away from Ray's incoming attack and considered making a run for it. But she'd be an idiot to run without even knowing the layout of the house. That kind of action was a big decision.

Metaphorically picturing herself as something of a tame, housetrained dog, Rachel knew that one unwarranted bite at his petting hand, or shit on the carpet, and she'd be chained up in the doghouse.

Despite her freedoms she knew Ray would act quickly if she fucked up. Obviously, he was accustomed to kidnapping people and doing other, more unsavoury things. She didn't want to give him a reason to 'subdue' her.

Rachel wasn't a gambler; she played safe. But right now, she didn't know whether to play it safe and inevitably get raped... or throw caution to the wind and get raped then possibly murdered. Or maybe she should hold out until rescue comes. If rescue comes.

"Check," she said listlessly, trying not to seem bothered that the man opposite would hurt her.

Ray quickly confiscated an idle pawn. "Oversight by you."

With a wan smile, Rachel took her next move. It wasn't an oversight. It was a delay. She wanted more time to think.

Somewhere, Ray had drugs. Rachel's eyes left the board to set on the ceiling as she considered it. She didn't know anything about incapacitating drugs or needles to administer such things. Maybe she could spike his food. Was it the same thing?

Rachel's faint hope faded to miserable cynicism. How long would it take for this madman to trust her enough so she could search his house, poison his food and escape? Maybe ten years...if she was lucky enough to still be alive.

"I am looking forward to making out with you," Ray teased, snatching a more valued piece from the board.

Rachel's lip curled slightly. "Checkmate."

Ray stared. "Fuck!"

Relaxing back in his seat, he contemplatively ran a hand through his hair then rubbed the back of his neck, still considering the game's abrupt end. "I'm a man of my word. I'll get the cuffs."

Rachel sat still as a statue as Ray casually left the room. She held her breath as one word repeatedly blared through her mind.

Now! Now! Now! Now!

Listening carefully, she eased out of the chair and stealthily approached the doorway. Peeking, she discovered Ray wasn't there, and heard distant rustling from an area possibly two rooms away.

But right now, in her direct line of sight, was an unmistakable front door. Through the decorative glass pane across the top-centre, Rachel saw the outside. And it didn't even appear locked.

Deliberately taking longer than necessary, Ray felt the change in airflow as the main door opened, then closed.

"Ah," he remarked, tossing the cuffs aside.

While Ray efficiently assembled his tranquilizer gun, Rachel blindly fled across the tidy front yard and ploughed into the trees. Going for speed rather than direction, her escape tactic was extremely impractical. But she was overcome with fear, already imagining what would happen to her if she got caught. Or when she got caught.

Rachel discovered first-hand that she was truly in wilderness. There were no main roads or other houses. The area could be very beautiful, if she wasn't running for her life.

In her weak panic, her thoughts about Ben burst to main focus. The terrible realisation that she loved him. The truth hit her with a wave of emotion and her mind progressed to a heartbreaking epiphany.

You always loved him. You fell in love with him before he even knew you existed. You just couldn't believe he'd love you back. And now you'll die out here, and he'll never know.

Breathing raggedly from exhaustion and miserable tears, Rachel bent to rest her hands on her knees. Something whooshed above, and Rachel lifted her gaze from her shoes to the dart embedded in the tree in front of her. Quickly glancing to her left, she looked down a short, but very steep hill leading to a river.

He's going to catch you, either way. Take your chance.

Rachel took a deep breath and threw herself down the incline.

Impressed by Rachel's lucky dodge, Ray's heart pounded with excitement as he briskly ran to catch her. The chase was thrilling, but it was the anticipation of victory that excited him most. Finally, he would have her. He was going to get his moment. Literally nothing could get in the way of...

Ray swore at the sight of Rachel's sprawled body at the base of the incline. Anger surged through him, accompanied by a taunting thought.

Thwarted again.

Then an unfamiliar panic took over, and Ray frantically descended the steep wall. Rachel couldn't be dead. She couldn't be.

You abducted an innocent girl because you wanted to fuck her, and you've killed her instead. Idiot.

"No!" Ray growled, quickly turning Rachel onto her back. Blood ran down her temple from a head injury. Checking her pulse, Ray's anxious gaze never wavered from her pale face.

"Thank fuck!" He breathed deeply with relief, and he shook his head with exasperation. "Girl, you really are clumsy!"

So much for the chase. It never occurred to Ray that Rachel might actually hurt herself, since it wasn't exactly perilous terrain. Then again, he'd never purposely set a desperate captive loose.

"Oh," Rachel moaned, her pretty eyes blinked open as she was eased to a sitting position.

Waiting for her to freak out, Ray watched intently as she discerned his presence.

"Oh, ouch!" she muttered, finally returning Ray's perusal. "What happened? Who are you?"

Ray's smug smile vanished. "You don't remember me?"

Rachel worriedly shook her head. "Should I?"

"Maybe." Ray did some quick thinking. "I'm sort of your boyfriend."

"Really?" Now, she looked very startled. "But I don't know you."

Ray stared, scrutinising her for tell-tale signs of fibbing. But she only gazed back at him with wide-eyed bewilderment. The problem was, it was the same wide-eyed bewilderment she typically expressed, and he couldn't tell a difference. If he hadn't already observed Rachel without her knowledge, he might have ruled her nervousness as a sign of faking. "Can you remember your name?"

"Yes, Rachel. But I don't remember you."

"Alright then," Ray said, his mind whirring.

Discreetly shifting the scope-gun further across his back, Ray was pretty cynical but not enough to call 'bullshit'. "You're concussed. I'll need to check that head wound at home. Does anything else hurt?"

"No," Rachel blushed, placing her arms about his neck as lifted her. "Sorry, but...I mean, even if we..."

"Yes?" Ray said encouragingly, noticing she still struggled with eye-contact.

"I mean, boyfriend or not, I don't remember you."

"That's fine. I'm sure it'll all come back," he reassured her.

When their eyes eventually locked, Ray smiled, the charming smile reserved for when he really wanted something. Surprisingly, Rachel shyly returned it, and Ray saw a brief glimmer in her blue-green eyes that he didn't believe a girl like her could fake. Interest.

"I'm sure it will," she said, awkwardly shifting in his arms. "Thanks for being a gentleman in the interim."

Ray paused, realising the twisted turn that his dilemma had taken. He wanted to shout at the heavens for what he considered a pretty fucking unfair turn of events. He was also beginning to wonder if this unassuming shy girl was actually a secret genius.

But if Rachel wasn't faking, he could seduce her before she understood that she was his prisoner. If the amnesia was a put on, he would find out quickly, and then she would lie in the bed she'd made herself. Thoroughly.

Either way, he was going to win.

Back at the house, Ray discovered the hit she'd taken wasn't too bad. The cut was superficial and not the blunt-force trauma he'd feared. After Ray patched her up, he was a perfect gentleman, and Rachel meekly socialised with him. Ray noticed the difference -- the girl was making an effort, despite an evident bashfulness. She asked a lot of questions, but none set off alarm bells. Ray had a wonderful time concocting various bullshit stories about their fake romance, knowing she'd either be forgetfully impressed, or secretly incensed by his audacity.

If it was all pretence, he didn't want to frighten her out of character and spoil a rather fun conquest. And if it was real, he didn't want to scare the shit out of her and end up at square one. Ray pondered if he should have dated before, because he was actually having a great time.

"You should go to bed," Ray said, disapprovingly. "You fell down a ravine less than three hours ago."

By his side, Rachel shrugged and continued to dry the last of the dishes, placing them one by one on the rack. Ray was still rather imposing; his height and athleticism right next to her.

You still don't know him. Act like it.

Drawing parallels between her falsehood and the reality, Rachel acknowledged Ray was a complete stranger, who wanted intimacy from her. It was a lethal combination that activated the worst of her shyness. Spending time with him under a ruse was the only option to keep it going. Even though she desperately wanted to retreat to solitude, she didn't want to be abused. Remembering his nudity when he prepared to rape her, Rachel blushed.

"What are you thinking?" Ray asked, and Rachel was startled to discover he had been carefully watching her.

"J-Just that this is pretty weird," she answered honestly. It was only a matter of time before he figured it out. How she utilised those precious moments was the key question, and so far, she'd gotten nowhere. But she was still alive and unmolested. She was, as Ray predicted, extremely indignant about his flair for delivering rosy answers about their 'relationship'.

"I know," he agreed. Lightly pushing her shoulder so she faced him, Ray tilted her chin, so she was forced to stare right at him. "You know what we liked to do?"

"Oh...Um..." Rachel said, annoyed that her face was still burning.

"This," he clarified, and bent to kiss her.

Trying not to think of Ben, Rachel's eyes gently closed, and she returned the kiss. She felt Ray's hands settle on her waist, then slowly slide up to pause under her breasts. His thumbs stroked higher, caressing the lower curves of her chest.

"W-Wait," Rachel pleaded against his mouth, but Ray chuckled.

"Relax," he said huskily, and resumed the kiss. He could feel her pulse racing, and her flushed countenance was far more encouraging than when she turned pale and fainted. She was responding to him.

"Even if we...I mean, I don't know you! I'm scared!" Rachel insisted, turning her face away as his mouth continued to kiss down her neck. After a longing sigh against her collarbone, he stood to full height.

Rachel hesitated, and something wary crossed Ray's face. Suspicion. Not knowing how to alter whatever facial expression put him on guard, Rachel seized the front of Ray's shirt and pulled him back into the kiss. As his lips moved against hers, her heart pounded with a growing warmth that had nothing to do with fear. Aghast, she pushed him away again.

Frustrated, Ray sharply exhaled. "Don't be afraid of me, Rachel. I keep telling you-" his voice died before he made a foolish disclosure. If she really had lost her memory, it wouldn't look good to know he had to keep reassuring her not to fear him. "Never mind. Are you tired? Do you want to go to bed?"

Rachel's eyes became so impossibly large, Ray laughed. "If you don't want to share my bed tonight, there's a spare one."

"T-Thank you," Rachel breathed, with serious gratitude. "I'm sorry to...ahm..."

"No problem," he grinned handsomely, and Rachel blinked. "If you change your mind, you can come find me."

With an uneasy laugh that broke in the middle, Rachel stepped away from him. "Oh, have you seen my phone?" she queried, in her best casual voice.

"We're in the sticks, hon," Ray said dismissively. "This was meant to be a technology-free getaway."

"But what if there's an emergency?" she persisted, with a very real curiosity.

"Then you can count on me."

"You must be handsy. I mean handy!" Rachel exclaimed, her cheeks a fiery red from the slip-up.

"I'm both," Ray laughed, tucking some loose strands of hair behind Rachel's ear, cheekily pinching her silky earlobe between thumb and forefinger. "And don't forget what I said. If you want company..."

"Right. Thanks," she muttered, jerking her head from his touch. Stupidly flustered, she quickly retreated through the kitchen and downstairs to her small sanctuary.

Ray's expression froze for a heartbeat, before relaxing into a huge grin. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms, still staring at the doorway she'd disappeared through. The doorway he never mentioned led to her prison.

"Rachel, Rachel, Rachel!" he marvelled, his hazel eyes bright with amusement. "You almost had me fooled."

Ready for bed, Rachel literally just pulled her bed-top on when she heard Ray's feet descend the steps.

"Fuck!" she breathed, scrambling into bed in record speed. The light was already out, and as the door silently pushed wider, she saw Ray's intimidating figure silhouetted by the light from the doorway.

"Rachel?" he called softly, quietly stepping into the room.

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut and bit hard on her bottom lip. Forcing herself to remain still, she felt his weight add to the bed.

"I know you're awake," he murmured, gently stroking hair from her brow.

"I...I'm just really tired," Rachel breathlessly answered, curling onto her side to escape his touch. This was a huge mistake, as it gave him room to lie down.

"That's ok," he whispered against her neck, deciding to milk the situation. "We've slept down here before."

As he tightly spooned her, Rachel pouted heavily with frustration. Of course, she knew he was full of shit, but she didn't know that he knew it.

"So long as it's just sleep," she said meaningfully, and stiffened when he chuckled, the deep sound mockingly reverberated up her spine.

"It always starts out that way," he teased, his mouth gently nibbled her flesh.

Rachel's neck was particularly sensitive, and she couldn't suppress the responsive tremor that shuddered across her skin. She felt Ray's lips curve into a triumphant smile.