Chapter 9

I am sitting in the kitchen with Freddie as he makes us breakfast.

I had sworn to keep my distance from everyone; however, Freddie isn’t having any of it!

He tells me his purpose is to ensure I have at least one friend in this house. It turns out to be him.

“He is usually gone by 6 am,” Freddie says as he cuts onions to put into my omelet. “And why, if I may ask, were you in bed with him?”

Freddie asks with a mischievous grin as he goes into one of the two refrigerators, grabbing the butter while waiting for my response.

“It’s not what you think,” I tell him as I shake my head and place a grape into my mouth.

“Uh-huh!”

A fake grin spreads on Freddie’s face as he walks out of the refrigerator. He kicks the door shut and sits the tub of butter on the black granite.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he opens the lid to the butter and begins looking for a spatula.

“Ryder was screaming in his sleep, Freddie!”

Any sane person will check! It’s not normal to yell in your sleep. Then again, no one in their proper mind checks on their kidnapper to ensure he is okay.

“Oh,” Freddie whispers, not bothering to look up. He doesn’t sound surprised at all.

“Wait, so Ryder always has night terrors? Since when?” I can’t believe it! Is this normal for everyone here?

“Since forever. I guess since Ryder’s parents died, I think. Ryder and I have known each other since elementary school. It started with insomnia. After his parents were killed, they were upgraded to night terrors.”

That sounds about right! After he let his confession slip last night about his folks, I’m not surprised that’s the root of his night terrors.

If anything, I feel bad for him. His tough exterior lays an interior as soft as a pillow. “So, how are you entangled in all of this?” I grab my cup of orange juice and take a sip.

Freddie laughs, but I am dead serious. “I’m not tangled in anything, honey. I want to be here. Ryder’s my best friend.”

His words surprise me! As cruel and cold as Ryder is, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to be around him.

Freddie continues chopping onions. “In elementary school, I would get picked on by the other kids for being different. I liked boys and was obvious about it. One day, a group of boys decided to pick on me. I, of course, didn’t know how to defend myself; I’m a lover, not a fighter, honey!” Freddie looks up and winks. “Any who, Ryder came out of nowhere and kicked all their asses. My hero!”

Freddie swoons and then immediately exhales. A look of sadness spreads throughout his face. “It happened once a year, every year till about sixth grade. That’s the year his folks were murdered, in front of him, no doubt.”

“On the last day of school, some kids decide to pick on me. We were in the courtyard. Ryder saw the three boys and the ring leader, a girl, pushing me around. She punched me right in the face, breaking my nose. Ryder saw it and snapped. No one saw him running toward us.”

“He gave the three boys a good tussle and bloody lips. The girl? Beat her to a pulp! Even I was horrified but silently happy. I remember him standing up from repeated blows to her face and looking at me, his fist all bloody. He told me to defend myself. If I couldn’t, to stay close to him. He would protect me.” Freddie’s eyes pool as he continues, “I instantly fell in love, and we became good friends. You can say I helped him a little with his parent’s death, he didn’t have any friends, and he helped me with defending myself.”

“One night, I was at a sleepover at his place, and it’s when I first saw the first stage of his sleep deprivation. Ryder was living with his grandparents then. He stirred the entire night, and I woke him up. I felt bad. Poor thing was drenched in sweat. I still don’t know why I did it, but I mustered up the courage and kissed him. He immediately threw me off the bed and punched me to the floor. I wasn’t mad at him or anything! Poor kid was having nightmares, and I tried to take advantage of him,” Freddie says, looking ashamed and clearing his throat.

“Anyways, I’m on the floor nursing a bleeding lip. Ryder handed me a tissue and said I would only ever be his best friend. If I ever tried anything like that again, he’d bury me. I’ve been with him ever since. Well, except for when I went away to cooking school, and he went off to college. We had always stayed in touch.”

“College, huh? So the monster has more than one friend?” I scoff.

“No. Just me. I was Ryder’s only friend in college even though we were on opposite sides of the country.”

Now that didn’t surprise me at all. Even though it did tug at my heart. Ryder was and is still a loner.

“So right out of school, I couldn’t get employment. I called Ryder and told him I needed a job. He gave me this one, free room and board, girl. Excellent pay! I, of course, don’t have to cook or clean, but I love doing it. He’s my only family; we will always care for one another.” Freddie looks around the kitchen and smiles. He puts the knife down and grabs the spatula, taking a huge breath.

“So I turned into an idiot, again. I tried to kiss Ryder when I first moved in with him. Let’s just say he wasn’t as nice as before.”

“What did he do?” Intrigued, I cross my arms and lean closer. Freddie is an entertaining fountain spilling all the juicy drama. I love it!.

“Uh, let’s see. Ryder slapped me in the face, held me against the wall, and punched me squarely. He then promised to bury me alongside what was left of his parents.”

Freddie and I both laugh.

“Stop!” I tell him with my mouth wide open.

“I took that lust for him and threw it away real quick, girl,” Freddie says as he points to the trash can. “Saw my short life flash before my eyes!”

“So he’s never been married or anything? No girlfriends?”

I forget Freddie is making us breakfast until he slides the plate in front of me.

Freddie looks up and starts to think. “Not that I know of. And he’s certainly never brought them home. I’m sure he gets his kicks when he’s away for work.”

That piques my interest. “Ryder goes away for work?”

“Yeah, don’t tell him I told you, but he stalks his victims for days, sometimes weeks, before he strikes. I know that sounds horrible, but it’s true. He did the same with you.”

Weird that Freddie’s last statement didn’t creep me out.

“Well, I guess he won’t be leaving while I’m here. Since I’m his current job and all.”

Freddie turns to the stove. “Maybe,” he says shrugging his shoulders.

“So what’s this other job? He says he runs a company?” I cut into the omelet.

“Believe it or not, he owns Boeing. As in the airplane. Don’t tell him I told you!”

“What?” I laugh. “Are you serious? Why has he never been on the news or the internet? A man of that power would leave a trace somewhere.” I put a fork full of eggs into my mouth.

Freddie is about to take a bite of his omelet but instead puts the fork down. He then put his hands on his hips, feeling shocked. “Are you kidding me? Dashing CEO by day, vicious assassin by night! Don’t you think someone would’ve caught onto him by now?”

I think about it. A reasonable statement.

“He has a president who runs the company, and that person runs everything by Mr. Forñay.”

I look at him confused.

Freddie notices my puzzling look and smiles. “It’s Ryder’s last name, sweetie.”

After a fact-filled breakfast, I head upstairs to get dressed.

I pass by Ryder’s room and decide to look around since he’s gone. I reach out for the door handle. There isn’t one. “Shit! I forgot about this stupid handprint thing,” I say out loud.

I walk into my room and head straight to the closet. I wonder if I’ll find some nice clothes here to go out. As I search, I realize there’s nothing but autumn clothing.

We are in California, where it’s always hot or a little cool outside. Why would he put warm clothing in here?

I decide on black jeans, a white t-shirt, and some black flats. I don’t want to suffocate outside. I shower and head back downstairs.

Finding a stack of magazines near the front door, I figure I will wait for Ryder here. Taking a seat by the window I look through the pile of papers and find the L.A. Times. There, on the bottom right is a small picture of me. It says to turn to page four. Excitedly, I do just that. I begin to read:

“Heiress Samantha Hallowell has been missing for more than three weeks now. No ransom demands have been made thus far. One source from the night of the annual Hallowell Gala said he saw someone carrying a large bag through the kitchen at around 7 pm. When police went to view the security video, none could be found. It appeared someone may have tampered with the video evidence. Samantha’s parents, Mr. & Mrs. Hallowell, have put out a fifteen million dollar reward for information leading to their daughter being safely found.”

Oh, my goodness! My parents are looking for me! However, my excitement turns to pain! I’m sitting here waiting to be taken to lunch by my captor, and they are still searching for me. I’m not even 100% sure he isn’t going to hurt me. I sit pensively and wait for Ryder to come home. Since we ended on such a positive note last night, he will let me go.

Right?