Tear You Apart - Part Seven
A Dark!Ransom X Reader X Dark!Steve Kemp Fic
Tear You Apart Masterlist // Part Six
Words: 15.5k
TW: 18+, smut (p in v, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink) dark!Ransom, kidnapping, stalking, claustrophobia, classism, a splash of fluff but don’t get used to it, mommy issues/daddy issues from both these bitches, discussion of: suicide, murder, assault, substance abuse, trafficking, cannibalism. If I’m missing any please let me know!
A/N: I know I haven’t posted in a long time I’ve just kinda had a hard time finding the will to live but my bad. I wrote this smut while listening to Sleep Token and it’s obvious lmao.
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“Time to get up, I have plans for us today.”
8:02 am
Ransom woke you up earlier than usual with a mission on his mind. Your body felt more sluggish than normal from the ripple he tore in your sleep cycle. You looked over at him from the corner of your sunken eye with irritation at the disruption. Ransom dug through your closet of clothes you had yet to wear but sat in there collecting dust by his wardrobe wishes.
You grumbled, burying your head back into the pillow and ignoring the beaming light from the closet. You didn’t want to deal with any Ransom escapades this early in the morning, and whatever he had planned you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to be toyed with.
“I need you to shower, and have your hair and makeup done.” Ransom ordered like a pageant mom, tossing a black dress down on the bed. “We have plans today, and I need you to look your best.” His hands then rest on his hips.
An uneasy wave of nausea coursed through your veins. “What are we doing?”
“Get ready and you’ll find out.” He turned swiftly to walk out, peeling the corner of your warm comforter off with his exit.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You whimpered as your body curled in itself at the harsh brush of morning chill as he ripped the blanket from you. “I’m officially okay with trying to kill you now.”
“You gotta get out of bed to come kill me!”
///
You swiped the steam from the bathroom mirror with the back of your wrist.
A gentle tap on the bathroom door before it opened to see Ransom holding a little black velvet dress. He knocked with the illusion of privacy but there’s a reason these doors don’t lock.
“Got you a new dress.” He grinned holding the dress beside you. Without trying it on you could see it was a purposely tight dress with a high neckline. You grazed your hand over the smooth black velvet material.
“It’s pretty, thank you.” You nodded before resuming your regimen.
“I think you’d look good with your hair up today.” He acted like he was suggesting but you knew he was commanding. You nodded once again looking only at him through the mirror.
Ransom leaned against the bathroom counter beside you before whipping out his phone. You often wondered who he was texting. Maybe Steve, maybe another girl, and that thought filled you with flaming jealousy. If he was going to kidnap you he better be faithful.
“I want your makeup like this.” Ransom flashed his phone to you and you felt sick to your stomach seeing your own Instagram with photos of you at prom last year.
You were the designated makeup friend. Proms, birthdays, etc. your friends asked you to do their makeup and you took that responsibility religiously. You went stag with your friends and it was one of the best nights of your life, you felt like you fit in. Because you weren’t the weird girl with the dead brother. You were a girl in a pretty dress with friends who were just as bad dancers as you.
You couldn’t help but notice some of the comments below the post. A few from when you originally posted them, a few more recently.
Allybabee2: you’re not even gonna credit me for my photography skills?? I feel so betrayed rn
You replied: please forgive me bby
Allybabee2: fine, but just this once.
Virgo_Vinyl: OMG I love your dresses! I wish I would’ve gone but something came up last minute
You replied: I didn’t know you didn’t go! I figured you were there and I was just blind and didn’t see you haha
And then ones from over the last couple of months.
Sarahslife: we all miss you
Jjbawler: I promise we’re gonna find you
SoftballGabby: I pray for you every night, fly high angel
HairyStyles4eva: I know Finn is protecting you no matter what happened
Allybabee2: I wish I would’ve enjoyed this night more if I knew what was gonna happen. I wish I spent more time with you even tho we both worked all summer.
Ransom locked his phone before tossing it back in his pocket. “I’ll let you get ready, we gotta leave when you’re finished.” You could tell that he realized that your eyes wandered further than the reference photo and you got a taste of the outside world.
Your reflection stared back at you with yearning. When Ransom flashed you your own prom pictures from Instagram you realized how Belle must’ve felt in Beauty and the Beast whenever the Beast gave her the mirror to see her ill father.
Things like him having your social media, knowing your medical records, and knowing what you were supposed to be in college for all felt too personal. He owns you, he has you kept in a basement, but him knowing your username felt unnerving. Like he had merged into your life seamlessly, your old life, the real you, he had camouflaged himself to blend in. But it felt more like you knew him through a mutual acquaintance but that person was also you. It felt hopeful almost, like maybe someone would notice him looking at your stuff but you knew there was no way they could. It was a taste of hope that felt bittersweet on the tip of your tongue.
You ran the post over again and again in your head. The brief glance of comments you never thought you’d see when posting the photos taken with your friends.
You forced yourself to focus on your makeup instead of the invasive images in your head of the comment section.
‘Please come home’
‘We miss you’
‘Wherever you are may god protect you’
‘Fly high angel, you were too good for this world’
Too much time had passed and you were dead to them. But you were dead to yourself too.
People interacted with your posts and talked to you more once you were dead to the world than when you were alive.
A soft knock on the bathroom door drew you from the hypnotic staring contest you were having with yourself as you did your makeup. “Come in,” you called.
In the mirror’s reflection, you watched Ransom enter the bathroom and his blue eyes had met yours.
“You look…” he mumbled. “God, you look so good.”
A blush burned your cheeks and you hoped your makeup hid it. “Thank you.”
You felt like middle schoolers getting ready to go on their first chaperoned date. The two of you had become so tense and nervous. The proper way to explain it was having butterflies. But he’d taken you apart on every level physically and mentally. You had his cock in your mouth last night before fucking you till you saw all the stars in the galaxy but right now you felt like you were talking to your schoolyard crush.
He fiddled with something in his hands as he walked to you until you could feel his breath against your neck. “Got you something.”
He reached to the front of you and held a necklace to your chest. Your hair was styled up like he was requested but you still instinctively swept the purposely loose strands of hair up so he could latch it around your neck. A thin silver chain with a diamond pendant in the center. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” You smiled softly adjusting the necklace over the high neckline of your dress so it could be seen. No one had given you anything this expensive before. “Thank you.”
Ransom had an unfiltered grin on his face, genuine flattery at your praise. Ransom has always silently begged for your approval. You had never seen him look at you like that before. “Today's gonna be a really big day for us.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.
An uneasiness boiled in your throat from the uncertainty again. You turned to face him, now leaning against the marble bathroom counter when you pressed a kiss to his lips and cupped his freshly shaven face before turning back around to clean your scattered makeup mess. “You look really good too.”
“Will I be coming back?” You masked the terror and sadness that would’ve normally raked your voice scared of the answer you were going to get. You saw him furrow his brow in confusion in the reflection of the mirror.
“What do you mean?”
“Should I bring my things with me or will I be coming back here? Like am I being switched off to another buyer?” You mumbled trying to fight the bile rising in your throat.
“I’m not getting rid of you.” Ransom caressed your jawline from behind you, forcing you to move your head to meet his eye through the mirror. “No one's gonna touch you, I’d kill a man who looked at you for too long.”
His baby blues shone with passion as he looked over you with desire. His cologne was stronger than usual and you forgot how much he was physically bigger than you until moments like these where he maneuvered you so quickly against his chest.
“That’s probably the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me.” You joked with a blush and a demeaning small laugh.
He briefly grinned before nuzzling the corner of your neck, his lips found their way just below your ear. “Don’t be nervous, baby.” He said like a mind reader already knowing how you were feeling.
But Ransom could read you better than anyone else. Emotional or physical. He knows that when you gripped the roots of his hair and your moans sound more like whimpers you’re about to cum and he knows how to move his lips and tongue to finally bring you over the edge.
He knows that when you’re having an emotional rollercoaster kind of day to keep his voice soft and let you pick the movie or TV show and what you want from the Chinese take-out place he goes to. Those are the kind of days you’re pretty sure that Ransom is actually an evil twin and that’s just his wholesome counterpart. Where he’d pretend to be a real boyfriend. But it often didn’t take long for him to snap out of it and become cold.
Ransom knew your thoughts like the back of his hand, even things you weren’t aware you were feeling until you sensed his body language adapt to yours. But maybe you just weren’t as good at hiding these kinds of things as you thought.
“Today is a good thing, I promise.” He whispered, his hands caressing your figure till he reached the hem of your dress, slowly pulling it up enough to slide his hand between your legs. “You look so fuckin’ pretty it makes me feel insane.”
Your sweat-slicked palms grasped at the countertop as you felt yourself melt into his lustful kisses along your neck and his expert hands sliding below your underwear, quick to find your clit.
You whimpered, pressing your weight against him for support as he circled your clit with his thick ring-clad fingers. “That’s it, just stop worrying and let me do all the thinking for you baby doll.”
Restraint withheld his lips from marking you the way he loved to. Guess this wasn’t an outing where dark purple hickies are a part of the dress code.
You grabbed the countertop as a soft moan fled from your lips. “Ransom…”
“I know, baby. Daddy knows.” He kissed along your jawline as you laid your head back onto his shoulder. “Looking so pretty, my pretty girl. I can’t even keep my hands off you.”
You ground your hips humping desperately against his fingers that rubbed your clit. You didn’t care that you felt weak for giving in to him so easily. He felt too good to hate yourself for it.
“Gonna cum for me, aren’t you baby?” His speed grew as the pressure he was using got stronger. “God, you must’ve been so starved for me it barely took much for you to cum. You want Daddy to take care of you?”
“Yes please, Daddy.” You felt dizzy as you crept along the edge of your defeat.
You could feel him grin maniacally against your skin as he abandoned his handy work where you needed him most.
Before you could beg him to return his touching, his warm and slick fingers ripped your panties down your leg and preceded with the sound of his belt clicking as it became undone.
You left your position from against his chest to bend over the countertop until you were practically eye to eye with your reflection.
Ransom’s face was dripping with hunger as you watched him encapsulated with the sight of him gliding the tip of his hard cock against your lips. “Fuck baby, wish you could see just how wet you are.”
Before you could reply the feeling of him harshly entering you and immediately bottoming out. The abrupt stretch drew a pressured gasp from you as it knocked the wind from your chest.
Ransom repositioned the two of you, your hips now closer to meeting his and away from the edge of the bathroom counter while laying a hand on the small of your back guiding you to arch the front half of you off the marble. The position pressed your breast together with the placement of your arms you kept anchored to keep grounded so you wouldn’t immediately sink to the ground during the spontaneous and yet such starving fuck Ransom was about to do.
Ransom grabbed your shoulder with his other hand and gripped your hip with a bruising strength.
Lovingly you found yourself reaching to hold your hand over his on your shoulder.
Normally you’d be slightly flustered and embarrassed by the primal sound of how wet you were for him and how hard he was fucking you but right now you weren’t even noticing the sounds of your skin meeting.
“Squeezing me so tight, god I’m gonna cum so fucking deep in you.” His voice mimicked a deep growl with a darkened expression you met in the mirror. “You want that don’t you?” He mocked.
Incapable of words when being fucked like this you only nodded for him to see in the glass.
“You want me to shove my cock deep inside your needy cunt when I cum? You wanna feel me fucking give you every drop? And then I’m gonna finger fuck it deeper into you. I want to be able to smell you on my hand the rest of the day.”
“Jesus, fuck.” You cried as his taunting words made your knees want to give in.
“Not Jesus, but I am your God.” He hiked your leg over the counter to fuck you from a deeper angle. “Tell me I’m you need me. Tell me that you worship everything I am to you.”
“I worship you, Ransom.” You were so close you’d practically admit anything he asked.
“Rub your cunt.” He demanded, his hand left your shoulder and quickly fished his finger to the root of your hair along the back of your skull. He yanked your hair and you felt your neck go limp like picking a kitten up by their scruff. “Cum for me, slut.”
It barely took a caress against your throbbing clit before you came around him. Your knees would’ve given in and sent you straight to the ground if he hadn’t been holding your hips so tightly. “Daddy…”
“You look so desperate when you cum for me.” His voice faltered into choppy as you fed off your high with him still fucking you. “Beg me to cum inside you. Beg if you think you’re even worthy.”
“Daddy please fill me,” you cried, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “I’ve been so good for you, please cum in me.”
“Fuck.” Ransom groaned demonically as he came inside you.
And he kept his promise of filling you and then fingering it deeper inside until you came once more on his ruthless fingers.
///
The heels he laid out for you weren’t high, just a little kitten heel, but considering you hadn’t exactly worn shoes in 4 months you might as well have been learning to walk for the first time. You’d worn only your sneakers the five times Ransom has now taken you outside. You knew the drill by now.
He slid a black long coat over your shoulders before you held your wrists out for him at the door in preparation as he pulled the neon yellow nylon rope from the pocket of his slacks.
You tried to hide your nervousness from him and you hate to say him fucking you in the bathroom really did do the trick.
You saw a brief moment after you had finished in the bathroom as he gently helped you clean that he contemplated if he should cancel the mystery plans or just keep fucking you in this dress for the rest of the day. You weren’t sure if you were lucky or unlucky by the decision to follow the original plan.
He then pulled the same maroon blindfold he used every time from the other pocket. You knew the procedure and turned away from him so he could wrap it around your eyes, this time not as tight as he normally did to keep from smearing the makeup you tried hard to keep on.
The six small beeps of the pin-safe locked door kept you in check of where he was and what step in the process of going outside you were on. After the door unlocked you felt him press his hand into the small of your back to guide you forward. You felt the draft flush as he shut the door behind you with the same six-digit number to lock it.
6 numbers to unlock
6 numbers to lock behind us
8 steps on the stairs
4-digit code to unlock to door at the top
4-digits to lock it behind us
26 Steps total through the house with an echoing click of your heel across the hardwood
At step 15 he guided you to turn to the right
The rest of your steps were straightforward
Stopping at the final step to the front door where you heard a normal bolt unlock. Ransom didn’t seem like he was overly concerned about his house being broken into in comparison to the security measures he took for you. He was more scared of what could get out than what could get in.
He guided you to step over the main threshold, the bitter cold wind beating against your cheeks but it felt nothing but refreshing. Like you could breathe better now that you weren’t underground.
Then the sound of keys as he locked the front door behind him and then he unwrapped the blind from you and untied your hands. Usually on your walks, he kept your hands bound but now it’d likely create unwanted attention if you were tied up in a dude’s car. You memorized the routine religiously because it was all you had.
You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the bright light that shone through the gloomy and rainy sky. You took a deep breath of fresh air as you stared up at the and it felt like you could breathe for the first time in years. You never realized how stuffy the basement was until you were outside.
“After you,”
///
The hour drive felt so fast when all you could do was look out the window at the world moving around you. You were just happy Ransom didn’t put you in the trunk. He didn’t take major highways, only less populated routes. You could tell he was scared you were gonna act up. And for a moment you did contemplate it. But you had passed no cop cars in the drive; if you were planning on escaping it had to be to a cop. If you flagged down a minivan it wouldn’t be hard for Ransom to overpower you and whatever soccer mom was driving.
He was smart with the drive and the route he took to stay away from the public, you at least gave him credit for that.
You didn’t pass very many road markings, at least none that were significant enough to know where you were or where you were even coming from.
“Where are we going?” You finally blurted looking over at him tense at the wheel.
“You’re gonna meet my family.”
A laugh bubbled from your throat at his remark. “There’s no way you’re taking me to meet your parents.”
His jaw grit tightly at you finding the situation laughable. “If you’re going to be my wife then you will eventually need to meet them. This was just convenient timing.”
Ransom’s original plans for you often slipped your mind. His delirious intentions of having a perfect wife and children. Your lips down turned in gross disdain.
“Don’t look too excited.” He scoffed looking over at you from over his sunglasses. “This is incredibly important, you can’t fuck this up for us.”
You nodded sheepishly and realism hit you that this was not a normal relationship. That he hadn’t woken you up with a new dress and jewelry to surprise you with an outing to meet his family for the first time.
He brought you above ground through 3 different security precautions, blindfolded, with your wrists tied together. He rerouted the destination to avoid exposure and opportunity. That there was a hairbrush with blonde strands intertwined in its bristles like a spiderweb. Ransom genuinely believed you were going to carry his children and be some housewife.
You dug your nails balled up in your palms as you felt your skin crawl. It was easy to see your situation with rose-tinted glasses but this outing was a cold bucket of water to the face.
The car turned from a tree-shaded back road into the center of a small town.
Then he passed by a laundromat, two salons, three fast food places, the basic run-of-the-mill small town square establishments. But this was the first time you were surrounded by other cars. This was your chance and you’d rather jump out of a moving car than be impregnated by Ransom.
Your eyes glanced back and forth between the side view mirror closest to your side and his rearview mirror while keeping your head from moving.
Ransom eased on his breaks as he came to a stop at a red light you saw him tense up and that’s when you saw it too. Two cars ahead and in the lane next to your door was a cop car.
Like a deer in headlights, you froze. Jesus fucking Christ this was it.
With your hand already in your lap, you clicked off the safety button of the seat belt as your hand snatched the metal door handle simultaneously
As quickly as you jiggled the handle you were immediately left with the realization as the door didn’t open - it was child-locked. Ransom pulled your arm roughly. As he wrapped his other hand around your hair he whipped your head down slamming it onto the center console.
You howled in pain at the feeling of pulling a muscle along your neck and the ringing of your ears as he smacked your head against the divider.
“You stupid, stupid girl.” He growled through clenched teeth, holding your head down and replacing his other hand on the steering wheel when you felt the car begin to move again. “We will be there in less than ten minutes and I don’t want to hear a fucking peep from you until then. And so help me god if you try that shit again I’ll press on this gas and drive into a tree and kill us both.”
Ransom held your head down from the rest of the car ride to the home and you felt so fucking dumb for your futile attempt.
You tried not to cry and ruin your makeup; it’d only make him more mad. All you could smell was the polished leather interior of the prestige car. The windshield wasn’t visible to your new line of sight so you could only make out what was going on by the way the car moved but you tried to keep track.
The car stopped for a minute, his blinker playing like a cicada in summer, and turned left. A few minutes later another stop, this time not a complete stop - he might’ve made a rolling stop past a stop sign.
Then a few minutes later he turned right and began to drive along gravel, the car gently jolting as you passed over each pebble and the car sounded like someone was shaking an empty box with only a handful of rocks inside.
Another stop then his window rolled down. Ransom hadn’t even spoken before a voice cut him off, “You’re fine to go in, Hugh.”
The screeching sound of an old gate being opened felt like nails on a chalkboard.
A gated private residence with a permanent guard on the outskirts of the property who likely worked day and night guarding the home like a medieval knight on the lookout as if the family were a gaggle of royalty.
Fucking rich people
The rattling of the car resumed for a minute until he pulled to a stop, pushing the gear shift to its parking.
When his arm finally let off of holding your head down you slowly sat back upright, rubbing along your neck that now felt tender like pins and needles.
Reaching behind the passenger seat Ransom pulled a purse into your lap. “Fix your makeup, now.”
Sheepishly you nodded as you unclamped the Louis Vuitton purse to begin to touch up the makeup he pre-packed for you as if he predicted tears on the car ride over.
If you hadn’t been so shaken up from the altercation you would’ve fawned over the expensive purse but right now he could’ve handed you your belongings in a brown paper bag and it wouldn’t change anything.
“Do you forget that I have that lovely microchip in your neck, sweetie?” His hand snaked along the curve of your spine until he brushed his haunting fingers over the microscopic incision at the base of your neck that you had grazed over so many times late at night always reminding yourself as long as that was still inside you’d never successfully get away.
“Ransom, I’m so-“
“Shut your fucking mouth, do you understand me?” He cut you off abruptly. “Do you truly think you’ll ever get away from me?”
His voice oozed genuine curiosity with little rhetorical undertones as he waited for a response. You slid the visor mirror back up as you shimmied your makeup back into the pricey bag.
“I don’t know what I was thinking…” you whimpered. “I’m sorry Ransom.”
“Oh trust me,” he aggressively opened his door and spread it wider with a kick of his shoes having no regard for the interior of the sports car. “You’re gonna regret it.”
One thing was for certain: you weren’t sorry for a fucking second.
Ransom circled to the other side of the car to open your child locked door. You must’ve hesitated for too long or maybe he felt like subtly roughhousing in retaliation when he yanked you from his car and shut the door forcefully behind you.
Before you could even fully gather yourself and your balance on the gravel entry Ransom yanked you again as he dragged you towards the home.
Your eyes ran over the outside of the mansion over and over again so rapidly it was like you were trying to memorize a cheat sheet for a test while your heart was beating at the same speed. Ransom’s hold on your bicep was astonishingly tight as he guided you through the walkway, barely able to keep up with his speedy footwork.
“Don’t even think about fucking this up,” Ransom growled in your ear. It was like the sweet Ransom you had earlier had wholly evaporated into thin air. If there was one thing you were thinking about now: it was fucking this up. The array of luxury cars lined down the driveway gave you more hope than you had felt since before you even left your home in August. Even more hope than seeing that cop car at the stop light earlier.
He disguised his aggression with loving holds as if we were being monitored even before we got into the estate. His hand found its way to the back of your neck, caressing under where your hair was pinned up, before digging into a pressure point at the base of your scruff. “Need I remind you that I can get your parents' address? Tit for tat: maybe after this, I should pay them a visit?”
And just like that every ounce of hope you had dissolved like sugar in water. “I won’t cause any problems, I promise.” You withheld your frustrated tears to avoid ruining your makeup once more, it was your mask and you had a part to play in that home. “Please Ransom, I’m sorry.”
“We’re in love and we’re very happy, got it?” He commanded as you stood on the doorstep ignoring your fruitless attempt at an apology. He moved his arm tightly around your waist. “You’re not going to make me look bad, so you will not speak unless spoken to. And if you try to pull that shit you just pulled in the car again there will be hell to pay.”
“Yes, Ransom.” You nodded feeling light the flicker of a candle had extinguished inside of you.
With the press of the vintage-looking doorbell, the sound of chiming echoed throughout the home. Why did he have to ring the doorbell if it was his family home? Had he been so estranged from them that a get-together had called for such formalities? But you could only chalk it up to rich people being fucking weird.
A crisp cool breeze whispered across your neck like the touch of a ghost’s warning as the front door opened. At first, you thought she had cartoonishly let out a sigh of relief but then you realized she was saying a name coldly. “Hugh,” She gave him a curt nod before widening the door to let him in.
Was his real name Hugh?
As you crossed the vintage threshold you felt like you had entered a new planet. Like you were on the battlegrounds, unprepared, with your gun left at home. You were vulnerable and exposed like a frayed wire.
Ransom’s cold hands dug into the collar of your jacket pulling it from your shoulders. His thumb brushed over the back of your neck so gently and yet so threateningly it could’ve been mistaken for comfort if he wasn’t reminding you that you were a microchipped dog.
He tangled your coat together with his and impatiently threw it at the woman who greeted the two of you. You wanted to scold him for treating his mother/aunt/whatever relation he had with her like that but you kept your mouth shut.
Fucking rich people
The interaction he had with her was so dry it was like he was paying a parking meter before guiding his hand across your lower back and forcing you to walk.
Gentle commotion came from all different directions and you couldn’t decide which one your brain could focus on first and you prayed not to stumble over in the heels yet he still forced you to lead. You were his shield, but from what?
“Ransom!” A cheery voice called from your left from a skinny lanky woman with short hair white from age glided in, her arms opening slightly before putting them at her sides again like she knew he wouldn’t hug her back if she tried. “And who’s this?” She said with a fake smile, trying to pretend like she wasn’t annoyed with your surprise presence.
“I’m-“
“She’s my girlfriend, mom.” Ransom interrupted.
You couldn’t help but blush at the title. The man keeps you in a basement and bought you but you felt like a schoolgirl at him calling you his girlfriend. Maybe you had just felt raw and vulnerable from the car altercation that you wanted to seek out comfort in him as if he hadn’t just threatened not only your life but your parents as well. That was normal for the two of you after a fight despite him leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable he was still your only source of reassurance and he fed off that fact.
“Oh, wow.” She muttered, shocked. “I didn’t know you were serious with someone. You’ve never brought a girl home, I didn’t even think you’d ever been in a relationship.”
“Well, she’s here. If you don’t like it we can go.” He sighed looking over at you in his peripheral vision either in a nature to show he was standing up for you or he was looking at you for support.
“No! Of course, she’s welcome to stay! I’m so excited about the two of you here. This is such a fantastic surprise.” She beamed with another fake grin that only older white ladies could do. She reached out and grabbed your hands holding them in her own. You jumped at her warm touch and realized no one had touched you in a nonmalicious manner for god knows how long. “I’m Linda, but you can call me mom.”
One thing for sure, you weren’t gonna fucking call her mom. And you knew she didn’t want you to either. Knowing Ransom and the masked attitude he’s had off and on this morning but it didn’t take a genius to know they had a relationship that was already on thin ice and she missed him whether or not that was reciprocated. It didn’t take much to connect those dots. You wish you could yell at him to appreciate still having a mother, but you realize you were mourning your parents even though they were still alive. But to them you were dead. You felt like an orphan because of what he’d done. And they surely felt like they’d lost another child to an unseen circumstance.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t bring any food.” You muttered, nervously breaking eye contact with her.
“What?” Linda furrowed her brow.
“I was raised not to come to someone’s family gathering without a homemade dish or something.” You stammered, anxiously tripping over your words. If your own mother or grandmother saw you come without a dessert they’d faint.
Ransom snickered at you under his breath. “We’re not that kind of family. They have servants hired to cook. You think anyone in my family would know how to cook?”
Linda’s face became as flushed as you were confused. Bringing a dish to any sort of gathering was almost absurd but in their lifestyle, the absurdly wealthy, she acted as if it was practically unheard of. Food not made with love was no food at all, your grandmother would say.
You briefly remembered one of your first interactions with Ransom. That although he didn’t eat humans his grandfather did and his family had. Were you a lamb brought to the slaughter?
“I hope you’re not vegan or gluten-free or whatever the new diet craze is.” She glanced back at you, disregarding Ransom’s petty remarks. “There’s not too many options for that for Thanksgiving anyway.”
“It’s Thanksgiving?” You blurted out before cringing on the inside from her puzzled expression. You’d been taken for almost five months and yet time had felt like a quick yet tedious blur.
“How did you not know it was Thanksgiving…”
“Where’s dad?” Ransom distracted her before she could come up with new questions. You felt stupid but it’s easy to lose track of time where you are but she’d have no clue.
“The men are all in the game room watching whatever football game is playing.” She waved off down a hallway. Everything that woman said made her sound annoyed and pissed as hell. “If you wanna come with me honey, the ladies are-“
“She’s staying with me.” Ransom interrupted. You felt your heart sink for a moment. He squeezed your hand for a beat before dragging you to leave the conversation without even a proper dismissal with an Irish goodbye.
You were trying your best to not trip over your own two feet as your eyes dragged along the tall ceilings and stained glass windows like you were in some haunted Victorian mansion you’d visit as a tourist attraction filled with fake loose floorboards and whiny vents to replicate a loud brushing in the wind to convince tourists that ghosts wandered the halls.
You vaguely recalled seeing Lizzy Borden’s house once in a documentary. Lizzy Borden was a girl in the Victorian era who allegedly killed her father and stepmother with an ax but was never convicted for it.
You tried to remember that old school yard rhyme people would sing when counting during jump rope. “Lizzie Borden took an ax, gave her father 40 whacks. When she saw what she’d done she gave her mother 41, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… ” and so on.
Kinda fucked up that that was a nursery rhyme.
Ransom guided you into a new room, the lights dimmed with a large television casting a blue-toned light on the fair wrinkled faces of the two middle-aged men that sat in the room focused on football each sitting in their own leather-bound lounger and a teenage boy captivated with his phone with an untouched billiard table standing by. They barely acknowledge Ransom’s arrival.
“Ahem,” Ransom cleared his throat finally gathering the attention of the men with their eyes glued to the TV but the teenager had only looked up for a moment and became uninterested, returning his undivided attention to his phone.
“Ransom!” A man with thinning hair that was more white than blonde stood at his feet. “And who’s this?” His speech slurred and you didn’t need to see the glass of brown liquid nearly empty sitting on a coaster beside him to know he was starting the party early.
“I’m-,” you began.
“She’s mine.” Ransom disrupted.
Ransom’s introduction of you was different with the men, one had to have been his father but none remotely resembled him, unlike his mother to whom he was uncanny beside. He was an animal that was baring his teeth and puffing his chest to show possession of you amongst the men—ownership of the prey.
“Pretty one,” the other man who’d been seated spoke up. “Where’d you find her?”
You glanced at Ransom, you weren’t prepared for the peanut gallery to investigate you when being directed to meet Ransom’s father.
“Where’s Grandpa?” Ransom ignored his interrogation, frantically searching the room with his eyes.
“Harlan is in his study,” the man sat back down with a humph under his breath.
Ransom groaned under his breath like a toddler on the verge of a meltdown. “Can you watch her for a moment?”
You snapped your head to him, you couldn’t decide if you were more upset that he’d just throw you to the wolves or the fact he asked them to babysit you as if you weren’t a full-grown adult standing amongst them.
“He doesn’t allow strangers in his office.” Ransom shrugged looking at your angered pout. “Behave.” You pointed a stern finger in your face with a warning. You contemplated biting his finger off.
“I’m not a fucking dog.” You whispered under your breath. He attempted to hide his frustrated expression with restraint as he came to the same realization you had; that he couldn’t punish you or retaliate in front of them. You may pay for the comments with a bruised ass later tonight but it’d be worth it to watch him do a terrible job of masking his fury.
“Excuse her manners, she’s still learning how to act like a lady.” He chuckled condescendingly, looking at his father, making you the joke between the stupidly wealthy men.
You stayed with a scowl on your face as he didn’t even utter a word before leaving the room abandoning you within the lion's den.
“You can relax around us, sweetheart. No need to be so tense.” His father encouraged you with a pat on his thigh. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap.”
Thankfully you were more talented at hiding your disdain than Ransom as you hesitantly stepped to him and sat at the edge of his knee. He quickly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you all the way in his lap, forcing you against his chest and all you could smell was the faint reminisce of aftershave and expensive brandy. You looked over with a deep blush at the other man in the room only to see him eying you like meat, the teenager still so occupied with his phone that you thought for a second he might’ve been deaf if he hadn’t even since acknowledged the new arrivals.
“So tell us about yourself, what do you do for work?” He encouraged engagement but his eyes cast at the shape of your breast already told you he wasn’t interested in your life or career.
Well, I’m not from here, (wherever here is, likely still in the same region as where you did live from what you could tell by the weather and passing foliage) I don’t get out much, I had to leave your college and family but not by choice, and oh yeah your son bought me from a cannibal and keeps me in a fucking basement.
“I don’t work right now,” is what you actually replied.
“Ah, I see.” He clicked his tongue with a sigh glancing down at your thighs. “I can’t say I’m surprised, I know how my son is.”
You tightly furrowed your brows. “And what do you mean by that?”
The other older man with a cane resting against the arm of his seat chuckled as if you said something bogus.
“I just mean, I know my son has certain tastes and appetites.” His father’s words felt more grimy than the way it made you feel as he rested his hand against your thigh. At least Ransom didn’t have an appetite for human meat. “There’s a reason he’s never had a real girlfriend, a woman of good stature wouldn’t do the things he wants, even with the resources and comfortability he has.”
You didn’t exactly have a choice to deny Ransom.
“Let’s not beat around the bush,” the man spoke up confidentially as he leaned in towards you as if he wasn’t on the other side of the lounge. “How much does he pay you?”
You audibly laughed, indeed sounding like you were mocking them. “Pay me? Ransom doesn’t pay me.”
“Ah,” his father retorted. “Excuse my brother-in-law, he’s not trying to be rude. It’s just that you’re a very very pretty girl and don’t get me wrong I love my son, but to see someone tolerate him enough at the level of seriousness you allegedly are, it just seems a bit odd.”
“Are you even together? Or did he pay you to come with him today?” Who you now knew as Ransom’s uncle tossed aside what you said. He seemed like he just wanted to know the drama if not for entertainment than to throw in Ransom’s face “His grandfather is cutting him off unless he can show he’s ready to be a man and settle down. Although the publishing company would be in the trash without me, Harlen wants Ransom to own our little empire one day, but I doubt he’ll step up to the plate.”
You hadn’t heard any of this but Ransom wasn’t much of an open book. You really didn’t know much about Ransom. You didn’t know his favorite movie or his favorite flavor of gum, or if he likes olives. You didn’t know his birthday or his favorite holiday. You had only learned today that Ransom was only a nickname, which makes more sense than not. To be fair Hugh isn’t a very sexy name unless Hefner follows it.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love my son.” His father repeated, lolling his head towards you. “But, he’s not notorious for commitment. And if he expects to ever see a penny of Harlen’s money, Harlen made it clear that he’d need to settle down for that.”
You had so many fucking questions but the only thing you could think of was how boney this old man’s knee was and if you should try to again to do something over the fact you were above ground for the first time in months and how if you were planning on getting out you needed to act while you were here. But a piece of you didn’t want to; you didn’t have it in you. It’s easier to succumb. Ransom was so hurt by your earlier attempt it created guilt you shouldn’t have felt for him. Even by the brief interaction you’ve had with his relatives, you knew he was begging to impress them.
Distracted, you had barely noticed the conversation had moved on until you felt his father’s hand creep up your thigh that he’d been eyeing since you came in. “You being for sale isn’t a bad thing. I understand, in this family, we’ve all done things we aren’t proud of for money.” His hand slid along the hem of your dress trying to push it up your thighs before you shoved yourself off him and stood on your trembling feet.
“You’re married! I’m dating your son!” You gasped. “I’m not a hooker and even if I was, Ransom takes care of me and treats me better than men like you could. What kind of fucking Flowers In The Attic shit is this?” You smoothed your hands over the velvet of your dress.
“Ransom wasn’t joking when he said you had poor manners. I know he isn’t very fond of women who talk like sailors.” His father scoffed. “I can tell poor upbringing when I see it, but it’s not your fault you were born into it. You’ll warm up and learn to behave like you come from money eventually.”
You were truly speechless to its definition as you decided to jump ship and leave and just take the punishment for it when Ransom commanded you to stay put while he went to go talk to his grandfather.
Fucking rich people
You don’t know why you defended Ransom in there, it began as standing up for yourself but merged with it. You should’ve said something, anything, even if you knew it was a test.
Help, call the police, your son keeps me locked in his basement
Your shoes clacked loudly against the wood floors, the sound echoing off the walls absent of life or evidence of a family. No cheesy family photos, Christmas cards, or pictures from a vacation, it was bare, reminding you even more of some home from a scary movie. This whole family screamed Stepford Wives and Get Out.
Lizzie Borden took an axe gave her father forty hacks, when she saw what she’d done she gave her mother forty-one, two, three, four- fuck that’s gonna be stuck in your head the rest of the day.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Jesus Christ, you nearly gave me a damn heart attack.” You jumped as you froze in a juncture of a hallway when Ransom snuck up on you from a hall you hadn’t bothered to venture toward. “Your dad’s a creep.”
Jealousy took the reigns on his face, and his anger and accusations for you quickly died on his tongue. “What did he do?”
“Made me sit in his lap and started to lift my dress.” You physically recoiled. “They thought you were paying me, something like you have peculiar tastes and then offered to take a test ride himself.”
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head with embarrassment. “I didn’t bring you here to embarrass you.”
You could’ve been told that an alien from outer space came down and body snatched him and you wouldn’t doubt it. As if he hadn’t threatened to kill you both just an hour ago.
“Why did you bring me here?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
Ransom glanced over your shoulder and then once more behind his own. “I need to prove I’m mature enough to carry on with the family business and showing up here with someone who I’m in a serious relationship with is an important piece of that.”
“What fucking family business?” You snapped at this entire family’s cryptic language.
“Blood Like Wine Publishing,” he rolled his eyes, aggravated having to explain his family’s lore. “My grandfather is Harlan Thrombey, the writer.”
Everything clicked into place all at once.
You felt disgust coat your stomach as you recalled the first time you’d had a conversation with Ransom the first day he took you home. “My grandfather indulges every time he writes a new novel. To absorb their ideas and life experiences, he says. I’m sure my whole family’s tried it at some point as well but it’s not my favorite.”
You were in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre but if the inbred redneck killer family was old money and pious instead.
Finn had to read one of his books for a school report and therefore explained the entire plot to you as if you were in the same class doing the same project. “This book fucking sucks, I swear to god I’m gonna fall asleep reading this shit. I’m not joking, I'd rather read Gone With The Wind again, that’s how shitty this is.”
Finn didn’t have the patience for classics that nowadays read like a refrigerator manual. Finn also didn’t like being told what to do; what movies to watch, what books to read, or what bands to listen to. He was such an angsty little shithead sometimes, you wonder if he would’ve still been just as much of a shithead now as an adult.
“Is that why you…why we’re together?” There was no polite way to ask hey did you kidnap me so your family would think you have your shit together?
“Not entirely. An added bonus to why us dating was a good idea.” He stuck his hands nervously in his pockets. Around his family, he resembled a nervous rescue dog, but you only knew him as the aggressive guard dog.
“Well, are they buying it at least?” You asked.
“I think so.”
Although you were alone you couldn’t be too careful and the two of you had both come to the silent agreement of phrases.
Started dating = abducting you
“Glad to know us dating hasn’t been a complete waste of time.” You rolled your eyes, feeling slightly used and mad. “I’m sorry for what happened in the car.”
“Did I hurt you?” He asked, gently tilting your head to examine your sore neck. “I didn’t mean to hit your head that hard.”
“I’ll be okay,” you muttered lifelessly as he returned your head to its upright position. “I don’t know why I did it…I just…”
“I know,” he interrupted. “I hope you know I will never try to…break up with you.” Aka kill you the way he promised
“Regardless, nothing will make me regret how we started dating. I don’t regret anything I’ve done.” Ransom’s expression was so stoic it was hard not to swoon over the Hallmark confession. His face had come so close to yours you hadn’t even noticed until you could feel his cool breath across your cheeks as you looked up at him with the doe eyes he was weak for. Ransom had begun to duck his head down to kiss you whenever you began to panic.
“My feet really hurt.” You whispered, thinking of anything to say to avoid kissing him in such a romantic moment scared of the intimacy he was seeking. Maybe he was just trying to sell this union to his family, maybe he adored you the way he said he did. Either way, you didn’t want him to kiss you; not here, not now.
Ransom laughed under his breath. “What?”
“I haven’t worn shoes for this long in a few months.” You confessed. “I’m usually okay walking in heels but my feet really hurt and your family is also really weird and everyone still has their shoes on even though they’re in the house.”
He chortled once more before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Just when I think I know you, you go and surprise me some more.”
“Oh, look at you two love birds!” A shrill voice interrupted the poorly timed intimate moment the two of you shared. “I really thought Linda was kidding when she said Ransom brought a girl home.”
By the way, you could see him physically cringe in the corner of your eye you knew this was one of the relatives in every family that no one fucking likes. In your family, it’s your uncle Gary.
“I’m Ransom’s aunt, Joni. But sweetheart I can already tell we’re gonna be like sisters.” You already despised her. The woman who resembled a bird with stiff botox swooped in to hug you and you recoiled in her embrace. As cold as this family was the last thing you’d be expecting from any of them would be affection with a stranger. “You know, I really had my money on him being gay, but-“
“If we’re finished with the questioning portion of your interrogation, why did you come here to interrupt our own private conversation?” Ransom coldly cut the woman off. Annoying or not, you still didn’t care for how he treated his family.
It was like you could watch her physically bite her tongue. “They’re setting up to eat; I was told to gather everyone in the dining room.”
Ransom placed his hand on your lower back with a slight push forward directing you where to go. “Then let’s eat.”
///
You anxiously sat beside Ransom on your right at the dining table and beside his aunt Joni who decided you were gonna be like sisters even though she’s probably the same age as your mom to your left, and the empty chair at the head of the table on Ransom’s right.
The meals had already been plated and set, but they were waiting for one more guest. They were waiting for his grandfather to come join them which was something he wasn’t fond of doing.
Fuck this weird ass family
When the stiff sound of patterned walking joined the room as his grandfather strolled in the family members all stood from their seats except you who didn’t get the memo.
They were all so money hungry they treated him like the president and it was embarrassing.
As he sat in his chair at the head of the table the rest of them sat and you felt frozen like an armadillo crossing the road.
“We may eat,” Harlan lamented before waving out his cloth napkin to place in his lap.
You were now convinced this was a cult
You stared somewhat nervously at the plate in front of you. Bland colored food with sides you didn’t recognize stared right back at you.
“Which fork should I use to fucking kill myself.” You whispered to Ransom and you could hear him restrain a laugh as the loudest sound in the room was the scrapping of expensive silverware against the fine China.
“Have I met her before or is the dementia that runs in my father’s side of the family already beginning to take me with it?” His grandfather didn’t even have to look up at you to know you didn't belong. From what you could tell everyone was immediate family and a few spouses that had been a member of the family for decades. You were an outsider but at least it was for your unfamiliar reputation rather than your lack of debutant-style edicate training.
“This is my girlfriend I was telling you about when I visited you in your office.” Ransom spoke for you and you were glad because you couldn’t comprehend anything other than remembering to breathe right now. You were the main act of the evening to convince his family of whatever agenda Ransom had in mind. Your mouth felt parched of all moisture and you pressed the crystal glass of sparkling water to your lips. You should’ve added vodka while you had the chance.
Harlan glanced at you briefly before resuming his meal as if he were silently grading you. “Yes, very pretty. She’ll make beautiful kids I am sure.”
You choked on your water at the nonchalant mention of you being responsible for creating small duplicates of you and Ransom. With your luck, they’d get the batshit crazy gene from his side of the family. “That wouldn’t happen for quite some time, if ever.” You caught your breath and cleared your throat. You watched Ransom grip the handle of his fork tighter and realized you should’ve fed into the illusion of Ransom leaving his playboy ways behind him.
“You are quite young,” he murmured. “How old are you?”
“She’s 18-“
“I’m 19-“
Ransom lashed his head at you with a confused expression.
“My birthday was in October, but I guess I just forgot about it.” You cringed at your sheepish answer. Realistically you just lost all sense of time.
“That’s what I meant,” Ransom quickly covered his ass. If there was one thing he was a professional at, it was lying through his teeth.
“I’m sure it was.” Harlan’s voice lacked expression and he spoke like a Victorian ghost (he might’ve been old enough to be one).
You picked around your meal trying to rearrange the food to look more eaten than it actually was. For having professional chefs on staff you think they’d know how to fucking cook.
“So, how did the two of you meet?” His father quipped from further down the table, with a shit-eating grin knowing he was putting the two of you on the spot. He was mad you embarrassed him and he planned on proving Ransom was still a player.
“Well, it’s just so romantic you see.” You had more time now to bullshit your answer. “I had just stopped by this quaint little bar on my way out of town to visit some friends before I left. Of course, I wasn’t drinking, but I wanted to at least make an appearance to be polite of course.” Actually, you had been two cocktails deep when Steve came up to you. “And this strange handsome man came up to me and started chatting me up.”
“But he didn’t interest me very much, well that was until his friend showed up.” You had the family hooked on your every word and they must’ve been starved for entertainment. “And I saw Ransom across that bar and he swears it was love at first sight, but of course I was a bit oblivious to him because well, look at him he is just so handsome there’s no way a man like that would even look at little ole me.” You placed your hand atop his and looked up at him with fake swooning eyes but you couldn’t tell if the smile on his face was genuine or not.
“But Ransom being the stubborn man he is, wouldn’t give up, and eventually as my friends and I were about to all head out he came up to me and he just kissed me.” You beamed with a convincing lie. “And I realized that I was going to love this perfect man.” You placed a gentle kiss on his blushing cheeks as the woman awed. Literally, why the fuck were you doing this at this point it was word vomit and you couldn’t stop if you tried.
“Ransom has friends?” His uncle spoke. “Didn’t think he was capable of keeping anyone around unless there was some form of compensation.”
“Steve,” you grinned with insincerity secretly wanting to scream. The fake admiration took enough out of you as is.
A low chuckle headed from his Grandfather. “Steve? The doctor?”
Ransom’s grip on the fork had tightened again. “Yes.”
Fuck why did you say, Steve?
“I’m sure he was in that bar for other reasons.” His grandfather looked at him with an all-knowing glare. “I imagine her luck would’ve run out if she had decided to court with him instead. Tell me, is he still into culinary? He always had the most profound pallet.”
“Steve,” Joni beside you gasped as she began to connect the dots of the identity of the mystery friend. “I thought Steve was married? That is of course unless he’s on the market again then I might just throw my hat in the ring. I’m sure I can just get his number from you Ransom before you leave.”
“Don’t,” your facade had faded at the thought, although you couldn’t stand the woman from what little interaction you had you wouldn’t set up another woman to be taken and murdered. You had physically revolted in disgust at the thought.
They all stared at you like you had a target on your head.
“Steve is married,” you nodded your head. “Unfaithful men, like Steve, don't deserve good things in life. They’re monsters, they deserve death.“
“Now I’ll drink to that!” His grandfather chuckled with the faint raise of his glass and you could sense the discomfort that had grown in the room to an unbearable weight as he glanced slyly down the table to Ransom’s father and you could tell there was some underlying lore there.
Everyone had already picked around their food and it was easy for you to become the center of unwanted attention because your big mouth didn’t have a good enough filter. One step forward, two steps back.
“I’m gonna go get a drink,” you wiped the corners of your mouth with manners before standing from the table. “Or a knife.” You grunted under your breath much louder than you intended to before storming off into a slide swinging door into the kitchen.
The two remaining staff members all seemed startled by your presence as they cleaned up from the meal. One wiping down countertops, the other loading leftovers into fancy glass Tupperware and into the stupidly large fridge. You just needed a distraction to keep from crying. You sniffled as you strode to the kitchen sink and grabbed the sponge from to holder and turned the water on.
“Ma’am that’s not necessary,” one had spoken up to you.
“God, they must be paying you guys out of the ass to put up with their shit.” You shook your head and laughter momentarily erupted from them because that was the last thing they thought you would say if you were one of them.
“Not enough, I’ll tell you that much.” She chuckled before sliding a fresh cloth beside the sink for you to place the clean dishes off to.
“Fucking rich people.” You rolled your eyes. “There should be an eighth layer of hell specifically meant for people who make so much money they practically wipe their ass with it.”
The woman who was loading the fridge spoke in a thick Russian dialect. “We only get brought on for special gatherings and even then I have to keep from ripping my hair out. I have no idea how the hell Fran works here full-time.”
The women made you feel less alone. Although you were a small fish in a big pond out there at least you had escaped to a new pond with the same kind of fish that made you feel better.
The game was playing on a small TV monitor on the countertop. The women bantered between each other over the teams, they both had bets for either opposing teams.
“Why are you doing dishes?” Ransom scolded at the sight as he opened the door between the kitchen and the dining room.
The two women sheepishly scurried from his line of fire as he stomped to your side, turning the faucet off.
“I don’t know!” You yelled pulling your hands from the sudsey water. “I’m fucking uncomfortable and I hate your family.”
“I hate them too, but you’re going to have to get used to it.” Ransom handed you the towel that the maid left out for the dishes to dry your hands.
“Why?” You scoffed. “I don’t have to get used to shit, I don’t want to be here.” Your childish behavior will surely backfire and add even more of a punishment that was starting to stack up for when you get home but right now you feel like you are drowning.
The maids tried to avoid staring at the roadside attraction that was your altercation as they wiped down counters on the other side of the kitchen that had already been wiped down.
Ransom grunted, “Leave us,” he waved his hands at the maids and the pair scattered quickly out the door as if they were scared of him. If they truly knew Ransom then they’d really be terrified.
“Don’t talk to them like that!” You exclaimed, smacking a hand on his chiseled chest. “They’re people, you don’t speak to people like that.”
“Fine, I’m sorry…” He rubbed his hand exhaustedly over his face as if he’d been drawn to the point of exhaustion just from the charades the two of you played. “We’ll be out of here soon and then we can go home.” His hands angrily fell to his waist and you could see his vexation repressing from behind his eyes.
“No, Ransom!” You snapped, clenching the rough textured dishcloth. “I don’t to be here, I don’t want to be anywhere with you! I don’t want this life! I’d rather be poor till the day I die than live like these people!”
Ransom looked like he could strangle you. “Well, you better get used to it, because these people are the ones giving me the money to keep you from being chopped up into tiny pieces and sold as a meal!”
It felt as if you’d grown a suffocating lump in your throat as you realized that he was right. Ransom was paying for your freedom and they were the ones giving him the money he must’ve still owed. The irony of them being the type of people who would purchase you as a meal was not lost on you.
“I didn’t know…” Your confidence that was rooted in anger quickly washed away as you sheepishly turned into yourself.
“I know, I didn’t want you to know.” Ransom pulled you close to him against his chest. “I didn’t want you thinking Steve could take you back.” Since the two of you arrived he kept trying to find a reason to be touching you like you were his security blanket.
“Can he?” a disturbing cold sweat broke across your skin at the thought of the abyss you were trapped in when Ransom first found you. When he saved you.
“Only if I don’t finish paying him.” He admitted. “Meeting you was important in order to keep the money coming. My grandfather wanted to see you, wanted to see that you could tolerate me enough not to run away as soon as you were given the chance. Despite what you may think that dinner went really well.”
You rest your forehead against his chest for a moment, inhaling the overpriced Dior cologne before pulling away. “Is it just your grandfather who knows?”
Ransom nodded. “Everyone else now thinks we met in some bar and I swept you away from my cheating friend.” He looked down at you with a humorous glare. “Whatever that storytime was…”
“I don’t know,” You pursed your lips together with embarrassment. “Sometimes when I start talking I can’t stop and then I say weird shit and then I can’t stop.”
“I can tell.”
The two of you jumped at the abrasive invasion through the kitchen door from the dining room as a firing squad of women that were at the table now all talking over each other. “There you love bugs are!” Joni exclaimed.
“Ran,” Linda smiled at the two of you as they crowded around the island countertop. “The men are all in the game room for cigars, go join them this is just for us ladies.”
You glared at Ransom, silently begging for him not to leave you.
“Us ladies like posting pictures in the kitchen so we look like a real family! My followers love it.” Joni smiled pulling her phone out as Linda pulled a wrapped dish from the fridge. “Go on, Ransom.”
Ransom huffed and looked down at you with uncertainty. “Fine. One cigar and then we’ll leave.” You nodded and he took that as a send-off before leaving you. You felt a wave of relief wash over you as the finish line to this day came in sight. You didn’t think you’d ever be excited to go back to the basement.
Linda, Joni, Ransom’s niece a little younger than you, and another blonde woman who looked lobotomized and like she had taken too much Valium all watched Toni unwrap the dish, placing it as they made it and they were proud of their accomplishment.
It felt like you were in a movie about vampires and for comedic relief they had to pretend like they ate human food and act like they weren’t blood-sucking demons. The more you thought about it, they might’ve been.
They spoke loudly with each other and you glanced outside the window at the green meadow outside and followed forest behind it. This was a classic house in the woods that ‘no one can hear you scream’ movie cliche.
As you thought of the acres of untouched land that was their property a breaking news headline that cut off the football game drew your attention away and to the TV monitor the maids had left on after being ordered by Ransom to scatter.
The cacophony of frivolous arguments on whose phone they were going to take staged family photos with and who gets to post the first was nothing more than static in your ear as you stared at the small TV screen on the kitchen counter in utter shock with tear-filled eyes.
Your own reflection staring at you from the screen with a news anchor beside it speaking from a teleprompter script off-screen.
“The search for the missing 19-year-old college student is still going on 3 months after her disappearance as more information has come to light and her family refuses to give up hope she’s still alive and out there.”
You felt that dizzy feeling you get when you get strapped into a rollercoaster and the back of your knees weaken and your heart begins to race. “Please,” your mother and father sat beside each other on the screen, broadcasting a separate video. “If you’re out there watching this, just let us know she’s okay. We won’t ask questions, just please bring my baby home.”
Your father's eyes were sunken in and staring off into the distance trying to hide his sadness. Realistically you know he wants to be angry; wants to scream for the assailant to not be a coward and bring you home. You didn’t think your mother would be the type to beg on National television for your return, but here they were. You didn’t know your parents cared that much about you and you felt stupid now for ever questioning a thought like that.
“Is that…” one of Ransom’s relatives spoke up from behind you but it ultimately went over your head along with their silence as you stared at your heartbroken parents.
“Sketch artist recently released the photo of what the kidnapper might’ve looked like based on descriptions from the friends she was with and the street cameras outside the bar.” The news anchor broke apart the haunting image of your family. A sketch that resembled Steve flashed on the screen. But it looked just like any other handsome middle-aged Caucasian male. Nothing extraordinary that an unknowing person could point out in public. “If you have any information on the missing girl please call (866)…”
A hand ripped at your shoulder, tearing you away from your trance. “Is that you?” His aunt gasped pointing at the tv but you could barely make out her face with the way your eyes blurred with tears.
This was your chance. You just wanted to go home, you wanted to hug your mom. You wanted to curl up in her bed like you used to when you couldn’t sleep and your father had already left for work at the early hours of the morning he always had.
“Yes…” You gulped, begging for air. All plans of staying quiet and obeying Ransom had flown out the window at that moment. “Ransom took me, he-he bought me from a man named Steve! Please you have to help me.” You dug your nails into her arm. “Please he’s gonna kill me, please I won’t say anything, just let me go.”
The women all gazed at each other, waiting for someone to say something. “Jesus Christ, not again.” his mother gasped, covering her mouth.
You frantically whipped your head around the room, eying an array of knives by the stove, and contemplated grabbing one. “You have to help me.”
His mother shot a glance back at the closed kitchen door. “I’m taking her to the study to hide. Stall Hugh, say I took her to lie down in the guest room, say she wasn’t feeling very well.”
You stumbled over your own feet as the woman quickly shoved you out a door to the corridor, guiding you down a long hallway you don’t even remember seeing and up a flight of stairs. You thought about abandoning her plan and running out the front door as fast as you could. But with the mysterious expanse of the property and pair of German Shepards outside the only way of successfully getting out was his mother.
“He won’t look for you in here,” she looked over her shoulder as a lookout before shoving you down the hallway you’d met Ransom in after he spoke with his grandfather. “We can’t let him know what’s happening. I’ll call the police once you’re hidden, he won’t be able to escape that way.”
She fed you through a mahogany doorway into a dark room. “Don’t make a noise, I promise you’ll be okay.” She swore. “He can’t know we know. I have to go before he starts to get suspicious.”
You could only nod in response, flooded with relief and a sense of warmth from a maternal source of protection.
She quickly shut the door behind you and left you alone in the study. You couldn’t help but stare in awe at the high ceilings and glass windows and books as far as the eye could see with an extravagant throne of what looked like knives at the center of the room. Every new room you saw in this house was more extravagant than the last.
You quickly kicked your heels off before rummaging around, looking for any form of defense. The more time that had past the more you felt like puking. The glass windows looked appealing to break and jump out of.
“Not again…” you recalled his mother saying in the kitchen.
Fuck
Shit
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How stupid were you to think they’d call the police? Why would they expose their precious son to the justice system and ruin their old money image?
The same way the blonde hair wrapped around a hairbrush deep in the bathroom cabinet he must’ve looked over.
You rushed to the door, gripping the brass knob only to realize it was locked.
You had that roller coaster feeling again. She locked you in.
You could feel the stampede of heavy footsteps trampling down the hall and you knew who it was even without seeing. And you finally understood why Finn froze on the train tracks. The truly impending realization of your doom weighing you to the floor. You didn’t want to go like this.
You grabbed the end table closest to the door and began to pull it over the threshold, knocking the lamp from the surface with the shattering of its lightbulb. It was the only piece of furniture you were strong enough to move to barricade yourself. Everything else was antique furniture made out of heavy solid wood.
The violent shimmying of the door knob flew you back. “Open the fucking door!” Ransom yelled.
This was your only chance at survival.
You bolted to the other side of the room, grabbing the heavy chair that sat in front of the deep wood desk.
A sweat broke out across your face as you dragged it to the window, trying to catch your breath. You needed to lift this thing. This was the heaviest mobile object you could get to break the window.
You cried out as you barely lifted the chair off the floor before quickly dropping it from the weight.
“Open this door or I swear to god I will fucking kill you!”
Ransom’s strength was magnified by his fury, you could see a brief sliver of him through the cracked wood, resembling Jack Nickleson in The Shining breaking through the wooden door to murder his wife.
“Fuck!” You sobbed, before scanning around again. The god-forsaken heels Ransom commanded you to wear that you tossed to the floor were your saving grace. You grabbed the expensive shoe and began slamming the heel of it against the frosted glass and it began to break.
A crack splintered through the clear reflection as you could hear your barricade starting to give in under his violent intrusion.
Glass flew back at you as you beat against the window, splintering but not shattering free. You beat on the glass for what felt like an eternity while there was a symphony of struggle coming from the other side of the door. Concerned voices screaming begged Ransom to stop, another scolding him for his actions.
You quickly spun your head around to protect yourself as the glass shattered free, the remains falling out the frame to the outside.
As you could see Ransom breaking down the last of the door you swallowed your hesitation as you climbed out the window.
The cold bitter wind splashed along your cheeks as you stood on the railing, gripping onto the exterior wall for support trying to ignore the fact you were a lot more high up than you thought. Fuck. You started to sidestep along the railing, begging for dear life not to lose your balance.
“Get back here!” You saw Ransom's arm swing around the window, reaching for you but you weren’t there. “So help me fucking god.”
The upper half of his body peered along the corner. His styled hair was askew and his cheeks were red with anger. The vein on his forehead bulged the way it always did when he was mad. The eye contact you made made you feel like you couldn’t breathe.
This was a mistake.
“Please, don’t fucking do this to me!” The fury in his voice cracked as he pleaded with you and you realized what it looked like you were doing.
You were sobbing, standing on the ledge, shaking like a leaf, covered in broken glass with cuts running down your arms that you hadn’t even felt from the adrenaline.
“Don’t fucking do this!“ he screamed as he started to step out onto the sill. “Please don’t!” He yelled and your heart broke for a moment. You realize he thought he was about to watch you fall to your death.
“I wasn’t gonna…” You were at a loss for words debating on what would make him angrier: you trying to take your life or you trying to escape.
“Weren’t gonna what?!” He shouted, his temper shining through. “Get back here! Don’t fucking do this.”
Another realization of a new opportunity hit you. You could just jump. You could either jump and kill yourself, jump and if you weren’t as lucky break your legs, or you could crawl back to him and face his wrath which would probably make you prefer death if he wasn’t already going to decide that fate for you already.
You glanced down and back at him again before taking a deep breath. “For the love of fucking God!” He screamed. His feet were too large to balance on the ledge like you were barely doing.
The aching expression on your mother’s face plagued your head, she needed you alive. You needed to apologize for the last thing you ever did was yell at her and steal her car.
You slid back against the railing, leaning against the wall for barely any real support as you made your way back to Ransom, the cold wind beating across your raw nose with the smell of fall weather.
“That’s it, baby, be my good girl come here!” He begged, extending his arms out as far as they could go waiting till you were close enough to reach and pull inside.
Nausea bloomed in you from your stupidity as you tried to push down the bland food you’d eaten.
When you got close enough, you felt his strong arms hold you at your waist, making sure you couldn’t fall as you made your last few steps. His clasp on you was so bruisingly tight it made you realize jumping to your death was probably a better idea.
Ransom yanked you inside, his hand holding the back of your neck against his shoulder to keep you from hitting your head as the two of you stumbled back onto the floor into the library, Ransom taking most of the fall to protect you.
You sobbed hysterically against him yet terrified of him and what he was going to do to you. And once again you shamed yourself for seeking comfort in him.
“Are you bleeding? Did you hit your head at all?” He pulled your head from being burrowed in his neck to look over your face. Only minor scratches from the shattered glass, and you could now finally see the bubbling anger and disappointment in his face.
He maneuvered you off him to stand. You glanced around and saw the audience of his family tree. His grandfather only looked at the two of you with just as much disappointment and yet no shock as he was the only one who knew the truth of your union.
“Well, I’ll be going to the attic, if any of you need me: don’t.” Harlan turned around from his stance against the wooden door frame of the office, his voice was stern and yet he spoke with the illusion of a medieval king commanding his subjects.
Quickly, you were forced to your feet only for a split second till you were thrown over Ransom’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry Ransom, I’m sorry!” You sobbed as your head felt like an explosion had gone off inside of it racking with pain.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut!” His broken voice still exuded anger as he stomped his way out of the library and down the stairs to the gravel lot.
You squeezed your eyes shut to keep from getting dizzy until you heard the faint sound of a trunk popping open and you swiftly getting tossed inside like heavy groceries.
“No Ransom! Don’t leave me in here!” You begged with a voice hoarse from all the screaming.
Ransom towered above you with one hand on the edge of the trunk’s lid. “You will ride home in the trunk like a dumb dog and for your own good I better not hear a single noise out of you for the rest of the way home.”
“Ransom-”
Slam
You had quickly been consumed by nothing but darkness and the growl of the engine starting.
Hyperventilating you reached around the tight space, trying to feel for anything. A carjack, bungee cords, tire gauge, any goddamn thing to protect yourself with but there was nothing there. You thought back to a thriller you once saw of a girl being abducted and how she was able to get out with the truck release lever. With your hands up you felt around the ceiling only to find the cord missing; it had been removed. A part of you wondered if he removed everything in preparation for this trip going south.
The ride home was silent from you other than the occasional sniffle and you tried to sleep but the drive was going to be shorter now that he didn’t have to take side roads to stay away from the sight of others but regardless now being trapped in a confined space felt like an eternity.
You both prayed and feared for a car accident.
When you awoke you were jolting in Ransom’s arms as he trotted down the steps to the basement and you began to cry again, this time in anger. You were so fucking close to freedom.
Stupid fucking bitch.
You should’ve paid attention as he typed in the passcode but you hadn’t thought of it nor did you feel like it would’ve mattered. The two of you hadn’t spoken a word until he tossed you on your bed and turned to storm out.
“Your mother said again. She said you did it again. How many times have you done this? Or how many times has she found out about it?”
He slowly turned back to you and you noticed his eyes were red and bloodshot but you were so goddamn mad you didn’t care.
“Once…” He muttered with a stiff jaw and you felt sick. He was being honest and giving you the answer you didn’t want to hear, but at least he was true.
“From Steve?”
“No,” He quickly butt in. “She was a cocktail waitress at a casino I used to go to a lot. Her name was Beth.” His voice was filled with hatred for himself reminiscing. “She’s the reason why this place was remodeled to be like this, why I chose a house in the middle of nowhere. She always smiled at me and remembered my drink order so I followed her for a bit, just for something to do. She lived in a shitty area, with bars on the windows, a deadbolt on the front door, and her bills were always stacked up, she never carried her cash home with her, she always stopped at the ATM on the nicer side of town where the casino was and deposited her money there. She had no family, only one friend, she had an on-and-off boyfriend she saw every now and then but he never stuck around. She took acting classes on Wednesdays.”
Your skin crawled at his confession. How long had he been following her to gather this information? How long had he fantasized about a girl just doing her job and trying to get tips?
“I asked her out once, she said it was against company policy and she could lose her job. I never knew if that was a lie or not.”
“Yeah, because what kind of trashy broke girls like us would want with an old money fuck like you?” You spit.
“I took her.” He stared at his feet, unable to look you in the eye during his confession. “No one even noticed for almost a month until her landlord started knocking. I just wanted to give her a good life. She was so exhausted and she drank all the time. I didn’t want her to worry about money or work, I just wanted her to be happy. But I wasn’t good to her..”
“Fuck,” You exhaled, your hands running over your face with tear-stained makeup flaking against your skin. You wanted him to stop, you wanted him to shut the fuck up, how could you have ever kissed him? Steve took girls at random. But Ransom was meticulous, he followed her for at least months at a time. “What do you mean you weren’t good to her…”
“I treated her like a doll. I made her wear tight dresses and heels and full faces of makeup every day. I would tell her how to talk and act, she was practically my live-in slave, and she was a good actor so I barely noticed her pain.”
She was a Barbie with her blonde hair that he got to play with.
“One day I wasn’t careful, and I dropped something, a vase or bottle, something like that. I turned my back while I was grabbing some towels and she took a shard of the glass and when I turned around she finally snapped.” Ransom swiped the tears beginning to form under his eyes away. “It felt like the first time I ever spoke to the real Beth, she screamed at me. Called me a controlling monster and that I’d never find real love. That’s the only way someone sane would ever love to be with me if I took them; I guess she was right.”
“So she tried to kill you and you killed her?” You rasped in pain, trying to avoid picturing the scene and where she was standing in this basement when she died.
“She slit her own throat right in front of me.”
Your voice died in your chest and everything made sense to you now. He was more scared of you taking your own life than taking his. When he thought you were trying to drown yourself in the bathtub, when he thought you were jumping to your death instead of just escaping, the way he tried to just make your life as comfortable as possible.
He never forced you to dress up every day or have a full face of makeup on only occasionally. Sometimes he’d dress you in a skirt or dress after you’d been in trouble and had you glam yourself up so he could have fun ruining it. But most of the time he wanted you to feel comfortable; at home.
Why he only had paper and plastic dining ware, why the mirror wasn’t glass, why he had his basement safety-proofed like a psychiatric hospital.
“I didn’t know what to do,” he interrupted your train of thought. “I called my mom and she made arrangements and had a team come in here and take care of it, I don’t know how she even knew them I didn’t exactly ask.”
It made you mad that Beth was reduced to a cleaning crew’s daily job. Would Linda have called the same men if you had jumped?
Your stillness crept under his skin as he silently begged for your forgiveness while also exuding anger like you hadn’t seen. He was blindsided.
“Yeah well Beth was wrong,” you rolled over your back to him as he stood in the doorway the same way his grandfather had in the library as another sob resumed to shake your body. “You took me and I will never love you…”
///
If you or a loved one are having thoughts of harming yourself or attempting to take your own life, I know how it feels. But I know how it feels to lose someone to suicide and if only they had said something my best friend would still be here. There are other answers and other solutions.
Suicide prevention hotlines:
America: 988
Canada: 1 (833) 456 4566
United Kingdom: 0800 689 5652
A list of suicide prevention numbers in other countries
The Trevor Project - a suicide hotline for LGBTIA+: (212) 695-8650
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A/n: In the kitchen scene the line “I don’t know which fork I should kill myself with.” Is from New Girl and there are accidentally a lot of parallels in this dining room scene to the one from Shrek 2 I didn’t realize that until editing so that’s my bad. I was listening to Sleep Token when I was writing the smut so that’s why it has a bit of a god-complex vibe.
Sorry I didn’t write anything for like ten months. I lost so much of my life between my mom being killed, meeting the man who killed her, getting in a car accident, being raped, trying to kill myself, it’s been hard to get out of bed everyday but this fic is already planned and written out plot wise and if there are gaps in time of me posting I will never abandon this story
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