The Hostage by Jonas Saul Page A

The time had come. The time was his to control. He had become the master and Sarah Roberts was his slave.
     
    Elmore got out and entered his house, leaving the two prisoners in his vehicle. He walked through the main floor, turning on lights, and went downstairs to set up the basement. After opening both cage doors, he grabbed two pairs of handcuffs, one of his 9mm semi-automatic Mamba pistols and made his way back out to the car.
     
    The back windows were still down the inch he had allowed them for air, but the male looked worse. He needed to flush his eyes and get cleaned up.
     
    Elmore placed the handcuffs at the crack in the window and let them both fall in.
     
    “Place the handcuffs on and I will open the door. Then we will go into the house and discuss what is going to happen here.”
     
    “Yeah, and I’ll do a tap dance and flit around like Peter Pan,” Sarah said. “How’s that? You want to hear anymore fairy tales, dick fuck?”
     
    “I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation,” Elmore said as he leaned closer to the open window. He grabbed the end of his fake mustache and slowly pulled it off. “You’re mine now. There is no escape.” He pulled his Mamba out and showed it to her. “These little guys run a lot faster than you.” He put the gun back. “I know you’re strong, Sarah. But this part is easy. Put the cuffs on and come on inside so we can discuss what to do next.”
     
    “Fuck you,” she said and raised her middle finger.
     
    Elmore shook his head. “Disappointed in you, Sarah. No one knows where you are. No one can hear you. No one in Toronto knows me. There is nothing you can do that’ll alter your situation in any way. It’s over, Sarah. Put the handcuffs on or stay in the car all night. Your choice.”
     
    She turned away from the window.
     
    Fine. She’ll learn who’s tougher.
     
    Elmore walked back into the house and entered his office. He booted up his computer and leaned back in his chair to wait. Once his news feeds had loaded he scanned them diligently. Below his desk was the cell phone jammer, which he should’ve brought with him so he wouldn’t have had to pull over and spray that guy’s face.
     
    He flicked it on in case Sarah had a cell phone. He never patted anyone down for electronics. Too dangerous when the girls first arrived. His wi-fi jammer worked perfectly.
     
    He wondered why there was no news about Sarah’s kidnapping or the man she was with. Sarah was a celebrity now. Why wouldn’t the media have something about what happened at the CN Tower?
     
    Maybe it was too soon. He’d keep an eye on it overnight.
     
    Who is that guy with her?
     
    He’d find out soon enough. In the coming days, he’d know everything about both of them. He would get to know Sarah on a more intimate level. She’d be a good lay. If she wasn’t compliant, he’d drug her food and do what he wanted with her unconscious form for hours while the male watched from the adjoining cell. He’d prefer Sarah awake. He loved it when he pumped between a woman’s legs while she cried. He couldn’t get an unconscious female to cry, so he’d have to keep her awake for some of their trysts. Maybe he would secure her to the point where she couldn’t move any body part. That would work.
     
    Making Sarah Roberts cry had been a dream of his for almost five years since he’d first heard about her exploits. He couldn’t believe his time had finally come. He now possessed his very own Sarah Roberts.
     
    Elmore opened the desk drawer and withdrew the fingernail container. He uncapped it, grabbed the thickest one and placed it between his front teeth. Then he leaned back and started working on the scab.
     
    This is the life.
     
    He smiled, staring at the collage of images on the wall across the room. “Oh, yeah,” he said out loud. “Sarah Roberts will cry before I’m done with her. We are going to have such good time together, Sarah. You’ll see. You’ll