The lake wasn’t big, but then again it wasn’t small. She could see the other end, a distance away. Nothing but nature surrounded the water in every direction. Looking down as she stood on the shore, her boots stood upon thousands of small smooth pebbles. Suddenly, she wondered if she could skip one. Remembering from childhood, she knew it needed to be smooth. It took her three tries, but she did it. It skipped four times, each hit going a little deeper, creating a slightly larger ring upon the water. The rings grew until they faded into the waves of the lake. For the first time in days she felt hungry.
Catherine never disappointed when it came to food. Claire found a sandwich—turkey or chicken she would soon find out—fruit in a small sealed cup, and some carrots. She sat at the water’s edge, broke off some of her bread and threw it in the water. The crumbs floated, rising and falling with the water. Suddenly, each crumb became surrounded by four or five minnows. They jumped and nibbled. Once they ate all the bread, Claire broke off more and fed them again. This time more minnows came to the feast.
The sounds of the lake exemplified peace. Claire closed her eyes and lost herself in the rhythm. Small waves lapping the earth made a consistent beat, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh. The breeze rustling the leaves of the trees created gentle on again, off again reverberations. The sun moved steadily toward the other end of the lake. Claire knew that her new sunglasses were a smart accessory for her adventure. It wasn’t just the sun, but its reflection off the water. It sparkled and shined as prisms of light and color danced off the waves. She could sit and watch for hours. Occasionally there would be a splash and Claire would see the telltale rings left behind from a fish that jumped out of the lake only to go back down.
Just before Claire decided to check her watch, she saw, about one hundred yards down the shore from her, a doe and a fawn. They cautiously approached the lake’s edge. The doe kept a watchful eye on the surroundings while the fawn concentrated on drinking the cool clear water. She didn’t want to move or disturb them but the sun continued to lean toward the west.
With a heavy heart she looked at her watch. It was four thirty. It took forty-five minutes to get from the clearing to the house, but she didn’t know how long it took to get from the lake to the clearing. Tony wouldn’t be home, but Catherine had been so kind and supportive. She didn’t want to disappoint her either.
Slowly, she stood, having no idea how long she’d been sitting on the shore. Her muscles ached. She wondered if the cause could be sitting on the smooth pebbles or if it was the activities of Friday and Saturday night. When those memories entered her mind, she felt her stomach knot. Eight more days. She knew without a doubt this would be where they were spent.
Survival is not so much about the body,
but rather it is about the triumph of the human spirit.
—Danita Vance
Chapter 14
Wednesday arrived sooner than Claire hoped. Since the discovery of her lake oasis, she spent every day there and returned to the house by six each evening, as promised. Truly, the first night had been close. She even needed to run part of the way, but she made it. Now she knew the way and that it took an hour and forty-five minutes each direction.
As the week progressed, Claire took more supplies: a blanket to rest on, a book, and her lunch with water to drink. She even started wearing her bathing suit under her shorts so that she could sunbathe on the shore. This made her feel like a rebel. The bathing suit was a lot like underwear.
When she walked the path approaching the lake, she began to recognize the sights, sounds, and also the smells. It was a clean fresh aroma that penetrated deep into her lungs. As the days passed, she soaked in the serenity of this secret haven and her strength and resolve returned. When Tony left for Europe, she felt as low as she had felt since her arrival—actually, in her life. She wanted out. She would have been willing to die to accomplish that goal if only the means had been present.
Now she was thankful that it wasn’t. When he returned he would be the same, but she would be different. He hurt her—not just physically but also emotionally—down to her core. He had humiliated and seemed to enjoy humiliating her routinely since she arrived. Making her view herself in those situations was agony. Previously, she tried to put away the memories to create a separation between her daily life and her daily duties. To some extent, she’d been successful. This compartmentalization had facilitated her survival. His appalling videos documenting his brutal treatment and merciless instructions exposed her to herself. It broke her.
The lake, nature, sunshine, and freedom rejuvenated her. She felt like the Six-Million Dollar Man: stronger, faster, and better. She would gain sustenance and strength from the memories of the crystal waves shining and flashing in the sunlight. He could say, do, or make her do anything, anywhere and her mind would be hearing the leaves rustle, the birds sing, and the waves lap at the shore. She knew it wouldn’t be easy but she also knew the routine. There would be breaks when he had to travel and hopefully be gone, far away for long periods of time. She would live for those breaks until the time came when her debt was paid and she could be the one to leave.
Claire asked Catherine, but she hadn’t heard the time of his arrival. It didn’t surprise her. It was part of his game, a test. He wanted to know if she read his note, if she would be prepared for his return. She also knew that on the day of his arrival she shouldn’t leave the immediate grounds. She planned to be ready when he arrived and she was.
Claire ate lunch in her suite and sat on the sofa reading a book, a crime novel except it was funny, the fifth in a series. She didn’t know for sure how many there were, but she enjoyed reading them. She painstakingly chose her attire: white capris, a black and white top that accentuated her figure, and black sandals with a shorter heel. Her hair had lightened and grown quite long since March. She had it half up and half down, with the ends curled. Her makeup was flawless. If he didn’t show up until later, she had another outfit for then. She planned to meet him head-on. The miserable wretched woman he left was gone.
The door opened without warning. Claire’s heart skipped a beat, but she controlled her breathing and remained still and relaxed as she looked up from her book. He walked in and greeted her, “Good afternoon, Claire.”
Slowly, she placed her bookmark in her book, laid the book on the end table, and stood. Her smile radiated as pleasant a welcome as she could muster. Her mask was not only on, but also intact. “Good afternoon, Anthony.” Their eyes met. “It is nice to have you home. How was your trip?”
She didn’t walk toward him, but she stood straight, tall, and defiant. He approached her, not touching her, yet standing close and watching for her reaction. She stood her ground, smiling, waiting for his reply. Asking for a verbal answer to her question was not a good idea, so she remained silent and refused to drop eye contact.
“My trip was long. I am pleased with your greeting. Does this mean your temper tantrum from before my trip reached its conclusion?” His body only inches from hers, she could smell his cologne and feared if she inhaled too deeply her chest would touch his.
“Yes, I believe it has. I apologize for my behavior. It was childish and unnecessary.”
He grinned, wondering if she was sincere or playing him. His tone and words tried to enlist her motivation. “As I recall, a good deal of your behavior was far from childish.” He paused, no reaction. “But my memory could be failing me, it has been a long trip. I know how we could find out.” Another pause, no reaction. “Or review?”
Claire didn’t react. She didn’t take his bait. Instead, she responded, “You are right, it was very adult. I would be glad to do whatever it is you tell me to do again. I believe I have a debt to repay, my goal is to make that happen as soon as possible, and that is the means to that end.”
He pulled her against him and looked down into her eyes. He saw a fire that had been dowsed with tears ten days ago. She smiled, said all the right things, but her eyes were fighting. He bent down and kissed her. I
t started slowly but soon became hard and forceful. She hesitated for only a split second and then responded with equal force. She didn’t back away. He hadn’t intended for this reunion to go this direction. He had expected someone different.
About six thirty he used his cell phone to call the kitchen and have dinner brought up to her suite. The flight had been long. By nine thirty he was sound asleep in her bed. She sat up and watched him. She still loathed him, but Claire felt she had won this battle. She stood strong and quieted the fury in his approach. She gave in without incidence. That made him less aggressive. The final result would be similar no matter the mode, but this way it happened without violence and without video replay. To Claire that was a victory. She read her book for a few hours before joining him in sleep.
The next morning when she awoke, he was gone. She knew the tedious schedule of her daily duties had resumed. She didn’t mope. Instead she headed to the exercise room and worked out, back to her suite and showered, then ate breakfast and learned of Tony’s location. Today he was at the office, not home. She sighed with relief. That meant she had until five to do whatever she wanted. Already ten, traveling to and from the lake was a three-and-a-half-hour journey. She would need to get up earlier on days she wanted to go there. Perhaps that would be something she did on days he was out of town. She would miss her lake, but Claire was determined she wasn’t going to risk losing her piece of paradise. She’d wait until a better time to go. Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn’t go into the woods for a walk. So she did. It still felt liberating to get away from the cameras.
That afternoon she spent at the pool. She returned to her suite and showered, ready for instructions by five. Catherine brought word; Mr. Rawlings would be home and they would dine in the dining room at seven. Claire didn’t need Catherine’s help with appropriate clothing, dining room meant formal. She knew how to follow the rules.
At six forty-five Claire went down to the sitting room and waited for dinner. A little after seven Tony joined her. “Good evening, Claire.”
“Good evening, Anthony.” They walked to the dining room.
“I went to your suite expecting to find you there.”
“I apologize. I was told dinner would be in the dining room at seven, I didn’t want to be late.” She emphasized her obedience to his rules. Tony pulled out a chair for Claire, she sat. She couldn’t help notice his eyes, black as night. She knew her impudence had an effect on him and that she needed to be cautious. She was walking a slim hazardous line.
“Your punctuality is dutifully noted. It seems that my absence has helped you remember who is in charge and what guidelines you are to follow.”
“Yes, your absence was advantageous on many counts.” She placed the napkin on her lap. Tony’s eyes were piercing. After a prolonged silence, Claire decided to lighten the mood. “I believe it helped me recognize that I owe you much, not just the money to repay my debt, but the confidence you’ve shown in me.” He was listening. “The confidence to trust me with your intimate beliefs.” She paused and waited. He didn’t comment. “I will not betray that confidence.”
Cindy and Carlos entered the dining room, placed plates with food, and poured water and tea. Claire and Tony remained silent until the staff exited the dining room.
“Claire, if you are being honest with me, then you never cease to amaze me. If, however, you are playing me you will regret it.” His eyes were intense. He wanted to make her confess her scheme.
“Tony, what would I gain by playing you? I am aware that my present, my future, and my release are solely in your hands. I am sorry for my behavior before you left.” She was pretty sure she sounded sincere.
Tony seemed satisfied. He didn’t tell her that it was all right, instead he changed the subject and they ate. After dinner they went out to the gardens for a stroll. It was there he asked about her walks in the woods. How far did she walk? Where did she go? How long was she gone? Claire didn’t want to tell him about the lake, but she was afraid to lie. He could see on the video surveillance that she left the yard at one time and didn’t return until another.
She told him about the multiple clearings, insects, flowers, and animals. Then she told him about the lake. He seemed surprised. He had seen the lake on his flyovers but that had to be six or seven miles from the house. Suddenly, she worried. “Is it still on your land?”
He appreciated her concern, but yes, she’d stayed on his land. As they conversed his eyes lightened. He reached into his breast pocket and brought out a black velvet box. “I found these for you in Italy. I thought they made a nice complement to your necklace.”
Claire opened the box. Inside she discovered a pair of pearl earrings. The large cream colored pearls almost identical in size and color to the one on her grandmother’s necklace were offset by white gold circles. They were pretty but not the same. Claire tried to understand his meaning. “Your necklace is a cross, which is an X on its side. Now your earrings are O’s. X’s and O’s.” He smiled.
It wasn’t as if she suddenly liked him, she didn’t. However, she appreciated the thought he put into his gift. It was a sweet and unexpected gesture. “Thank you, Tony. That was very kind of you to think of me during your busy trip.”
They made it through this storm. Leaving wasn’t an option, but they seemed to reach an understanding. Tony knew he was in control. He didn’t need to prove it. Claire knew she was in control of her actions, she could choose to fight or complain but her plan was for self-preservation until she was free. This had been a good old-fashioned thunderstorm, loud and boisterous but no real damage.
Days passed and turned into weeks. It was the end of August and Claire’s schedule remained constant. The only variable was Tony’s work location. Before he left for Europe, he offered Eric for her use. Since his return he hadn’t mentioned her leaving the property. She hadn’t been off the estate since New York, and that was a month ago. Truthfully, she didn’t miss the cities, she missed the lake. She kept praying for him to be called away for a few days, it didn’t happen.
Something else that hadn’t happened since Tony’s return was his threat of video screening. Other than the first night back, trying to bait her, he hadn’t mentioned the videos. It was as if they no longer existed. Claire knew that wasn’t true, but the illusion helped her compartmentalize.
Sundays usually involved staying at home, in his office, her suite, at the pool, anywhere that allowed for relaxation. Tony often needed to read or talk to Brent Simmons about something but he slated Sundays for his time to do as he pleased. It was Sunday, the twenty-ninth of August, when Claire decided to ask Tony for a favor. He told her before that if she wanted something she needed to ask. They lounged at the pool, enjoying the last few days of the season. “Tony, I have a favor to ask of you.”
He lay on a lounge chair, his dark hair soft and wavy after drying in the sun, relaxing following a recent encounter in the pool. He wore his swim trunks, which showed his firm defined tanned body. His eyes hidden behind sunglasses, he didn’t move but answered, “Go ahead.”
“I would like to call my sister.”
He sat up slowly, removed his sunglasses, and shot his piercing eyes her direction. “I believe this has been discussed and you know my decision. I have determined it is better that you don’t have contact with your family.” It sounded like a final statement. She persisted.
“I remember you saying that. However, a lot of time has passed. I won’t say anything to her that you don’t want me to.” She could see Tony becoming irritated but decided to add more information, “Her birthday is on the thirty-first.”
He took a breath, exhaled, and lay back down. Claire waited, he didn’t answer. She put her head back on the chair and contemplated how to revisit the subject without being disrespectful of his answer or lack thereof.
Tony closed his eyes against the sunlight. He thought about the framed pictures hidden in his suite, the ones from Claire’s Atlanta apartment. He’d wondered how long it woul
d take for her to ask to contact her family. It took five months. No doubt if the means had been available she would have contacted them sooner.
If her family consisted of poor farmers from Indiana the call wouldn’t be much of a risk. Actually, Tony wasn’t concerned about her sister. It was her brother-in-law, John Vandersol, an accomplished attorney that was a potential threat. From humble beginnings, utilizing his intelligence and intuition, he had become an associate at a top-notch law firm in Albany, New York. This was a firm that rarely hired outside of Ivy League schools. The man was even under early consideration for partnership. Tony didn’t feel comfortable with Claire having contact with him.
As far as Tony was concerned the past five months had taken favorable unexpected turns. Claire’s behavior was a pleasant surprise, much better than he’d anticipated while planning her acquisition. Truthfully, while wanting to keep her and use her for himself, he hadn’t been sure it would work. Plan B had always been and supposedly was still an option. But now that she’d been seen with him in public it would be difficult to remain completely detached. He didn’t want the addition of Emily, and especially John Vandersol, to upset his perfect equation.
Tony contemplated and a rush of fury swept his consciousness. He realized that she was questioning—no, arguing his decision. Not only was she arguing, he was considering her request. It was the damned pictures in the stupid frames. A small part of him cared that he’d taken all that away from her. That hadn’t bothered him five months ago. It had actually been quite the coup, but now . . . Hell, it is just one call. Maybe if he could control the content. Reassuring himself—of course he could control the content, he controlled her. He could control a telephone call. Tony decided that first he would see how badly she wanted to make this call. He would stand back and watch, see how far Claire would push, observing her resolve in the face of much adversity, as she attempts to manipulate him. Yeah, no lie, that courage turned him on. Finally, he said, “I will think about it.”