Chapter 7

Chapter 7

L ou is hanging upside down in my arms, her blonde hair a falling veil. Even though a moment ago, my mind was in overdrive, I am now absolutely calm. Maybe that's how it feels when you've done something truly bad, I don't know. Maybe it's mere relief that this part is now behind me.

The broken glass from the camping lanterns crunches under my feet as I carry Lou to the bed. I carefully set her down and take her pulse. It's weak but palpable and regular, so everything's okay. The dosage was right.

For a moment, I stand there and stare at her: her soft oval face that now looks so peaceful again as if she's asleep and her sweaty, reddened skin. She has a few tiny freckles on the left and right side below her eyes. Light cinnamon gold—strange, I never noticed them before. What else is there about her that I haven't noticed yet? My gaze lingers on her finely curved lips. Am I imagining it or is her upper lip a bit fuller?

My fingers twitch, wanting to trace the smooth contour. Why not, she won't feel it anyway! Just this once. I reach out my trembling hand, and when I feel the velvety skin against my fingertips, my heart begins to pound.

Lou feels so good. So good. So soft! The deep dark burning in my chest flares up with an intensity that knocks me out.

I stroke her lips with my index finger, down to her chin, down her neck…my gaze falls on her bare shoulder.

You shouldn't be walking there alone. Really!

Shocked at myself, I quickly withdraw my fingers as if I've burned myself. What the hell am I doing? I didn't kidnap her to touch her, but to have her with me.

Are you sure?

I ignore the mocking voice in my head and get the chloroform bottle that I barely managed to put on the table earlier. I quickly drizzle a few drops onto the cloth I'm still holding. Again, I look at her from above as she lies there, small and blonde. Somehow I'm glad she looks so peaceful right now after what she's been through.

I have no regrets. There's nothing I'm sorry about except that she was so scared.

I bend down and gently place the soaked cloth over her face to keep her unconscious for a while longer. Then, I sweep up the shards and put them in a plastic bag with the broken lanterns.

Throwing a quick glance at Lou, I pull the knockout drops out of my pocket and get the sleeping drops out of the closet. I drip both into the PET bottle in the correct ratio, which I prepared especially for this purpose. There's only three sips of water left, it won't take long for me to pour it down Lou's throat. At the end, I add dimenhydrinate, the anti-nausea medicine, then I go to the bed and remove the cloth from her face.

I glance at the clock. Two minutes. It won't be long before she'll regain consciousness.

Before she wakes up, I pull a zip tie from my pocket, roll her onto her side, and bind her wrists behind her back. It has to be quick as I don't want her knocking the mix out of my hand. Besides, thanks to the gamma-butyrolactone, she won't remember a thing anyway.

I sit next to her on the bed and pull her up, a bit over my thighs so that her torso is elevated. Her small breasts accommodate me in this position. They shimmer milky white through the wet fabric except for the tiny pink halo in the middle. I can't help it. I stare without really knowing what to think or feel. At some point, I tear my gaze away and let it wander further toward her flat stomach, her lap, her slender thighs and delicate ankles. Again, a scalding heat rises to my chest, filling every cell of my body with fire. My thoughts burn, melting my mind to nothingness.

Of course, I don't just want to look at her! I want to touch her all over, smell her, taste her skin. My fingers are shaking.

I frown and clench my hand, feeling like pounding it against my temple. I'm not going to touch her like I did before. No matter what she does to me. No matter how good she smells of Nivea lemon and how soft her skin is. Whether she is going to remember it or not. I'm not the kind of guy who'd do that!

Her eyelids flutter and I'm almost relieved not to have to think about it anymore.

"Ethan?" Her voice is hoarse, either from screaming or the chloroform.

"He's not here, Lou." I don't know why I'm saying this. So pitiless, so cold. Maybe to distance myself internally.

"Where…what…" She blinks dazedly, not realizing what's happened to her.

"It's all right, Lou. You don't need to be afraid." The wrong words—she stiffens. "Drink this and then you can go back to sleep." I put the bottle to her lips, but she turns her head away. I expected that and cover her nose.

I think it's only at this moment that she realizes her hands are tied. She tugs at her arms and her eyes widen with fear.

"Drink. I do not want to hurt you."

She gasps for air as the water enters her mouth.

I clench her jaw, not hard, but firmly. "Swallow."

She obeys and I let her breathe. "Once more."

This time she doesn't fight back. She understands quickly.

When she's finished drinking, I slide her back onto the bed. She doesn't move, but I know she can't possibly be already asleep. She is dazed, unable to move, but conscious. In no more than half an hour she will be dozing off.

I turn away from her and pull the folding door of the sleeping area halfway closed behind me. That way, I can keep an eye on her from the front and react if she gets sick in spite of the dimenhydrinate.

Contrary to my plans, I spontaneously decide to drive off immediately, maybe the hundred and thirty miles to Fresno, maybe more. Right now, no missing person announcement has been made, so I won't encounter police checkpoints and I can leave Lou on the bed while I drive. To keep her from falling off the bed, I roll the two down comforters into sausages and wrap them around her. When she's up on the bed, I can watch her through the rearview mirror, so there's no danger of her choking.

After adjusting the pillows as well, I stow the bag of broken lanterns and shards in one of the upper cupboards. After that, I wash my hands and mist the whole camper with Amouage's Gold Man , a heavy, sweet, men's cologne I bought specifically for this purpose. The oriental blend of woods, roses, and spices instantly hangs in the air, drowning out the chloroform.

Before I get behind the wheel, I take one last look at Lou. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is steady. I smile, knock once on the wall, and a slight twitch crosses her face. Okay, Lou, not in deep sleep yet, but you're pretty far gone .

As I'm about to start the engine, I see two points of light flicker in the side mirror.

"Louisa!" The exasperated shout penetrates the interior of the RV.

Fucking crap! Lou's brothers!

I'm sure they'll knock and ask me if I've seen a blonde girl. Even before they reach my area, I jump up and climb into the bunk above the driver's cab.

My heart is pounding so hard it makes me nauseous.

"Lou? Lou-u? Where the hell are you?" I think I recognize Ethan's voice.

I quickly check the clock. Just before seven thirty. Lou hasn't been gone that long, he probably isn't overly worried yet. He might also think she's playing a bad joke on them since she said she would get on the next bus. But it's already so dark.

I lie on my stomach and peer through the curtain onto the street. The flashlights flash on the rear of the RV and I recognize faces in the swirling beams of light. It seems Ethan is leading the way, followed by long-haired Liam.

"Jesus, Louisa! If you don't show yourself now, you'll be grounded for all of next year!" Ethan yells so loud, I'm afraid Lou might hear him despite her groggy state. Ethan has stopped and lights up the RV's windows.

Now he's gone completely insane!

I hastily climb back down and close the folding door. I have to do something, or they'll bang on the door, wanting to come in. No way. Maybe the perfume smell doesn't completely cover the chloroform smell.

I am blinded by a beam of light falling directly through the front window and hold my hand in front of my eyes.

"Lou-i-sa!" Ethan yells from further away. I squint against the beam and see Liam standing in front of the RV like a ghost. He spins in circles and lights up everything in his path. He's probably stoned on some Tibetan herbal tea or whatever he's into.

Anger and fear boil up in me. I don't know what I'll do if they get suspicious, but I won't lose. Liam is thin as a hermit and Ethan seems fit, but not a serious opponent. Determined, I open the side door and descend the steps.

"What's going on here?" I hiss in a low voice, pulling the door shut behind me. "Do you have to be so loud? My daughter just fell asleep." It's good I recall what Lou said earlier about the family of five.

"Sorry," Ethan calls out under his breath, aiming the beam of light at my chest like a crosshair. He takes a few steps toward me. "We're looking for our sister. Have you seen her? Short, blonde"—he puts his hand elbow high—"long hair. Sixteen years old…pretty…quite pretty…" I hear a hint of fear in the last couple of words. His state of anger is at a turning point—it's imperative I get out of here.

I pretend to think and slowly shake my head, although my heart is still racing. "No girl came by here. I would have noticed." I look straight at him like Lou did. "I was outside the whole time up until five minutes ago…repairing the radiator…my wife put the little one to bed."

Ethan stops and shifts his feet. Wrinkles dig into his forehead. Once again, he lights up the street.

"There's no point in that, Eth," I hear Liam say next to me. "Lou's probably back by now and she'll be happy you were so worried."

Ethan takes a deep breath. "Hopefully." He smiles briefly, trying to cover his fear, unsuccessfully so. "Let's go the other way anyway," he suggests.

Liam sighs and puts what looks like chewing tobacco in his mouth. "Fine with me!"

Ethan nods at me and raises his hand in greeting. "Thanks for the help."

I smile my rehearsed smile. "Don't mention it."

When they're out of sight, I feel like I'm going to freak out. Agitated, I lean against the camper and dig out my cigarettes. Ethan and Liam . I inhale the smoke, trying to calm myself. I don't know why I'm so upset. I did everything right, didn't behave in a conspicuous manner or say anything treacherous.

Maybe it's simply a mix of fear and triumph that's getting to me. Or maybe it was the worry lines on Ethan's forehead. The fear he tried to hide with a smile because he was probably embarrassed to show it in front of me.

I'm stealing from him what he most loves and wants to protect. It would be better if I hadn't seen him and had been spared these consequences of the kidnapping. But I don't want to feel bad now. Not today, when I'm feeling good for the first time. I don't want to think about him walking around for hours, desperately shouting Lou's name throughout the night.

I chain smoke two cigarettes, then get back in and sit on the bench with my face in my hands. Ethan seemed agitated. He may be searching for Lou for another half hour, or he may just as well alert the rangers right away. If he has even the slightest suspicion that something terrible has happened to Lou, all vehicles may be checked at the exit. It definitely takes me more than half an hour to drive down the hairpin bends to the park exit.

I know what that means. I'm getting sick as I walk to the back to Lou.

I should put her in the box under the bed. With a lot of luck, it would pass for a storage box if it was discovered at all. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I pull up the covers of the bed and undo the dark paneling on the footboard. I set them aside quickly, then unlock the side wall of the wooden box.

I have to do it. It is necessary.

I carefully take Lou in my arms, get on my knees with her, and transport her into the wooden construction with her upper body bent. Seeing her lying there, so tiny and fragile, I feel like breaking in two.

Lou looks so helpless. So small in the dark.

So dark, Mom …

"Lou…I'm sorry…" My voice breaks.

I can do many things, but locking Lou in there is like turning myself into the monster I fear. Instinctively, I reach for the silver coin on my leather bracelet.

Breathe, Bren. Breathe. You are not him!

I focus on the cool coin between my fingers, it's all that I have left from my childhood. I've had it for as long as I can remember and it fills me with a vague memory of security. It is proof that there was a life before Thorson Ave. and that I had a mom at one point. In my dark prison, the coin was all I had. It reminded me of who I was and that I hadn't ceased to exist.

I press my lips together as I look back at Lou and shake my head defensively.

My mom left me, but Lou is here with me.

I have to do it. It won't be forever. I'll get her out as soon as I can. I let go of the coin and caress Lou's cheek as if that would make things better.

As so often before, I feel like I'm being split in two, like there's a wall inside me that I can pull up to block out all feelings. The insensitive me grabs the lid with numb hands and carefully closes it. Then, I attach the panel and hang the coverlet over it.

Monster , the other me that was petting Lou whispers deep inside me. Monster!

As I drive past the visitor center, I see neither rangers nor Lou's brothers. After about a mile, I believe I see light in the forest coming from large spotlights because the beam of light is larger than that of flashlights. Possibly the first search party. I crawl along for the next half hour at the permitted twenty miles per hour, constantly afraid of suddenly being confronted by a large presence of policemen or park rangers. But nothing happens.

I drive up to the ranger station at the exit/entrance of the park. Luckily it's unmanned. The barrier is open, but that's not unusual at this time.

Not giving it another thought, I drive through the unmanned checkpoint, but I don't feel any relief yet. I tensely calculate how far I have to drive to escape undetected. Definitely to Fresno. In some curves, I can see the foothills of the mountains and make out the bright lights of the valley towns: Tulare, Visalia, and Reedley. They shine from below, above them a round, deathly pale moon. Spooky, but maybe it's only me. There's probably nothing worse out here than me. I've put the girl I love in a wooden box like a head of cattle.

An hour and a half later, I pass the Fresno town sign and most of the tension leaves me. In the industrial area, I search for a parking space in a half-torn-down warehouse and change license plates. I throw the fake California license plate on a pile of discarded electronic devices behind the no-trespassing sign and dispose of the lanterns in a glass container a few miles away. Then I check Lou's breathing and continue the journey along CA 41 N.

When I arrive in Merced, I can only vaguely remember driving there. The clock shows a quarter to twelve. About another hour and a half later, I stop at a Flying J behind Modesto. I properly park the RV in a designated parking space, then walk back to Lou, undo the panel, and open the box. I lean a little under the bed. Lou lies still as if she were dead. With a shudder, I put my hand on her stomach—that touch is allowed. In general, all touches that serve her well-being are allowed. When I feel her breathing deep and regular under my fingers, the shivering in me subsides.

I leave the box open and the paneling off and climb out the side to get an idea of the situation.

The warm night air wafts over me along with the smell of exhaust fumes and gasoline.

The truck stop area is easy to survey. A yellow-and-red Denny's occupies a large part of the area and next to it is a gas station with a simple shop. Everything is flat all around, only a handful of widely spaced tin houses stand out against the dark horizon. It seems like nobody in the area cares about their neighbors. Perfect, actually.

A chrome-colored semitruck is parked next to me—a blonde pinup girl sticker is placed on the passenger door of the cab.

Tired, I lean against the front of the motorhome. I feel weird. The flat country and the leaning power poles with their sagging cables seem to me as if they belong in another, upside-down world. Everything is wrong. There are no snowy mountain peaks, no coniferous trees, and no green rivers. No Canada geese or wild sheep. No wolves.

The past two months in Los Angeles, the feeling of something not being right was less intense than it is right here in the Central Valley.

It must be Lou's fault.

Lou and I belong in the Yukon. Lou belongs in the Yukon. I never imagined her on the road, in Merced, Modesto, or anywhere else. In my fantasies, she was never in the box either. I never allowed myself to think about it even though I knew it would be necessary. Now I wish I had prepared better for this.

I smoke a cigarette and walk around the truck seemingly absent-minded. The curtains of the sleeping alcove are drawn. If I'm lucky, the driver is sound asleep and will remain unaware of my presence.

Back in the RV, I lie down on the floor in front of the open footboard of the double bed. The space is narrow, so I can only lie on my side, but I want to be near Lou.

According to the calculations I did based on her estimated weight, I need to give her the next dose of narcotics around 7 a.m. Also, I should put her on the toilet. I set the alarm on my watch for a quarter to seven, giving me enough time to prepare the mixture.

As I wait for sleep, I look at her profile and the long soft hair that flows like gold to the bottom of the box. I'm hyper and exhausted at the same time. I don't want to fall asleep, I just want to look at her. All the time, all the time. At this moment, I am the happiest person in the world. For a brief moment, it's like the boy in the dungeon is smiling inside me.

I set Lou on the bed and have her drink the mixture before she's fully awake. She murmurs unintelligible words between the individual sips. Once, she chokes and coughs horribly, so I pat her on the back and watch her carefully as she calms down. She tries to hold her head up, but her chin keeps dropping to her chest. At one point, she manages and looks at me a little enraptured.

"WhereamI?" She's trying to brush a strand of hair from her forehead, but halfway up, her arm drops weakly back onto the mattress.

I tuck the strand behind her ear, telling myself that it's for her own good because her hair will definitely tickle her.

"I took you to be with me forever," I say simply, letting my fingers rest on her hair for a moment. "I won't hurt you, Lou. Never, I swear."

She giggles like it's a joke.

The sound gets under my skin. It's a good thing she won't remember anything later. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"You-want-to-put-me-on-there?"

"Sure, where else?" I don't even wait for her answer, but carry her like a sack of flour over my shoulder into the tiny restroom. She doesn't fight back. Inside, I set her on her feet and support her with one arm while I pull down her sweaty shorts.

I stare convulsively at her stomach and push the panties down her hips.

"Hey…" Her protest turns into a chuckle. She wants to hold on to me, but I push her onto the toilet seat.

"You're good to go!" I consider turning around, but I have to hold her or she'll fall off the toilet onto me. I support her shoulders, her head tilts forward, and her nose presses into my stomach. Shortly thereafter, a soft splashing sounds and I am grateful that these ugly methods also eliminate inhibitions. Otherwise, she wouldn't be willing to pee in front of me.

I stare at the wall, motionless.

"Done," she mumbles, turning her head so her cheek rests against my hoodie. The next moment, her arms close around my waist, powerless.

Her touch freezes me like a bronze statue. A chill runs through me, colder than ice.

You do not deserve this! You're just dirt! Just dirt and dust!

Lou snuggles her cheek against my stomach and her hands find my lower back.

I breathe against the guilty feeling that her innocent touch triggers in me. Something in me breaks open, and in the blink of an eye, everything dark within me grows even blacker.

I can't allow this, she's half naked, and when the drugs wear off, she's going to hate me. But her warmth is as good as it is bad, making everything worse at the same time. And the longer I feel it, the more I long for it. Something inside me softens, something that felt like steel before. Somewhere deep inside me is a place that needs to be held. In this way. Nothing more, that's enough. Why does it hurt so much? Maybe because I don't remember closeness because beatings were the only thing my body experienced and that's all I can give.

With the odd ache in my chest, I pull out of the embrace, dress Lou again, and carry her back to the bed.

After that, I have an iced coffee for a quick caffeine boost and grab a muffin from the cupboard before sitting on the edge of the bed next to her to watch her fall asleep. The confusion about my reactions remains and the tiny soft spot inside me is still there as if Lou's touch had grown new skin on a scarred area.

For the first time, I am scared.

What if she'll never forgive me for this? Not in a year, not in five? What if I can't avoid touching her? Or go berserk and hurt her? When the part of me I can't control hurts her? Then what?