… solipsubmissive …

This is a continuation; you might wish to follow this link to the beginning:  Part 1   

Cursing under his breath, Stephen pushed a button beneath the console that unlocked all the entrances and exits to Elizabeth’s chamber, then flipped open his phone and pressed a single digit.  Her scream ended as abruptly as it had begun.  He flicked a glance at the monitors. 

She sat, curled into the tiniest possible space, against the headboard, her eyes, wide and frightened, darting warily around the dark room.  He could hear her panting, her breaths short, staccato, keeping time, no doubt, with the pounding of her heart.  The drama unfolding was nothing new to Stephen, though he’d never witnessed Elizabeth’s night terrors in person.

“Now?”  The voice on the phone jerked him back into the moment.  He dragged his gaze from the screens.  “Yes.  Quickly.”  He closed the phone with a snap and left the room, hurrying down the corridor to her door.

The guard stood in surprise when he saw Stephen.  The chamber was soundproof, so he’d not heard Elizabeth’s scream, and had no idea there was anything amiss.  Stephen stopped and brought a finger to his lips, indicating he needed silence, then said in a low voice, “After I go in, nobody gets past you, in or out.  The door will be unlocked.”  Without waiting for an answer, he turned the knob and eased the door open.  He needn’t have bothered with being careful.  She’d detected the small noise and the movement immediately.  Her eyes were riveted on him the second he entered.

“Hello, Elizabeth.”  Stephen kept his voice carefully neutral.  He walked slowly along the perimeter of the room, his eyes on hers.  The only other portal to the room was through the bathroom, and he had no intention of letting her get there.  Ultimately, there was nowhere she could go, even if she managed to lock herself in the bathroom and figure out how to open the hidden door.  Still, it would be an unwelcome complication, especially during this delicate time.

She got to her knees and crouched, her muscles taut.  “You killed them.”

Stephen didn’t answer.  He stopped near the bathroom door and waited.

“They’re dead,” she repeated.  Her eyes scanned the room, looking for something with which to protect herself.  “I saw the blood.”

Stephen heard the muffled sound of someone entering the bathroom.  “No, Elizabeth,” he said, his voice soothing.  “We’re here to help you.”

Her eyes snapped back to his.  “We?”  She looked over his shoulder as the bathroom door opened and another man stepped into the room.  In silence, she regarded both men warily.  Stephen’s stance was nonchalant, non-threatening.  The other man, smaller in stature, stood slightly behind and to the left of her captor, a leather physician’s bag held loosely in one hand.  Her gaze locked on the bag and narrowed.  Something stirred in the back of her mind, a hazy memory that stubbornly refused to coalesce.  Frustrated, her brows drew together and she frowned. 

And then, abruptly, her mind cleared.  Her lips parted in a shocked, terrified gasp as she recognized, for the first time the man who had kidnapped her.  “You,” she breathed, then erupted from the bed, surprising both men with her quickness.  She lunged for the door through which Stephen had entered, felt instant triumph when the knob turned, and wrenched it open.  She darted through and sidestepped the guard, who didn’t have time to react to the small naked woman who ran past him.

“Hey!”  He took off after her, only to be knocked over by Stephen, who tripped and took three stumbling steps before regaining his balance, just in time to see Elizabeth disappear into the media room and slam the door.  A second later, he heard the bolt click into place.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he strode down the hall, digging into his pocket for his keys.  Even as he did so, he remembered precisely where he’d left them.

Elizabeth backed away from the door, adrenaline pumping through her veins.  She watched the doorknob rattle, then flinched when Stephen brought a fist thundering down on the unforgiving metal surface.  “Open the door, Elizabeth.”  His voice was deceptively calm.  “There’s nowhere for you to go.”

She turned, her eyes darting desperately around the small room, looking for a way out, or for something with which to defend herself.  A set of keys gleamed on the counter of what looked like the electronic soundboard one would find in a recording studio.  She reached for them, then looked at the bank of monitors that covered the wall in front of her.  “Oh my God,” she breathed.  The room that had been her prison filled her eyes, viewed from every possible angle.  Two of the screens contained shots of the bathroom.  A sickening feeling lodged in the pit of her stomach.  Images flooded her mind.  Blood.  Destruction.  Death.

Sex. 

Resolutely, she turned away from the monitors and scanned the room.  Two doors stood opposite one another to her left and her right.  She scooped up the keys and approached the first one.  It opened readily to a dark closet.  Realizing it was likely a dead end, Elizabeth hurried to the other door and tried the knob.  Locked.  Her hands trembling, she picked one of the keys and tried it in the lock, listening for sounds of activity on the other side.  The only sound she heard was the jingling of the keys and her own frantic breaths.

The third key she tried slipped easily into the lock.  Quietly, she turned the knob and eased open the door, peeking through the crack as soon as it was wide enough.  The room beyond appeared to be a large bedroom.  Her eyes widened when she saw an open door leading to a corridor.  Heart pounding, she pushed against the door she’d unlocked, hoping against hope to make her escape.  She took two steps into the room, then stopped.

Stephen undoubtedly knew this was her only exit.  He was likely waiting for her just down that tempting corridor.  Biting her lip, she backed into the media room again, leaving the keys dangling in the lock and the door ajar.  Quickly, she went back to the closet, opened the door and slipped inside.  Praying her idea would work, she closed the door, backed into the furthest corner and crouched, silent in the pitch darkness.

Part 12