Nothing on Earth

RACHEL CLARK

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One

Urgent knocking woke Tara Wilson from her almost-doze. Startled, she moved to the front door and began opening the three locks. At the last moment she gathered enough wits to check through the peephole. This wasn’t a dangerous neighborhood, but it was never wise to take reckless chances.

John, her neighbor, stood on the other side of the door, pounding the wood with his clenched fist. She’d never seen him like this. He’d always appeared calm and composed, but at this moment he seemed panicked. As she undid the final lock she wondered why he hadn’t called her name. A small, frightened part of her didn’t even want to open the door to someone who looked so out of control, even if she did know him.

Was she in danger from this man?

She shook her head sharply. This was John. The man who’d lived next door for almost a year and had never been anything but kind. She took a deep breath, threw open the door, and screamed when a large hand covered her mouth and John pulled her against his solid body.

Hell, he was a big man, and right now, despite her own above average height and self-defense training, she felt very small and very, very helpless.

“They’re on the way here. You need to be quiet.”

“Who?” she managed to ask with his hand still pressed against her mouth.

“
They
are. I tried to hide you from their scans, but they found you anyway. Please,
Tara
, just trust me.”

Scans?

She tried to pull away from him, but he held her tighter, and panic began to flood through her. “I know you’re scared, baby. Please just trust me to protect you.”

Baby?

What the hell? They were neighbors, had barely shared polite conversation in the hallway. Why would he think she’d welcome a term of endearment under these circumstances?

This felt too real to be a joke, too frightening to be some sort of prank. John seemed wild, terrified even, and she was fast getting there herself. Adrenaline coursed through her, and she fought his hold, thrashing against the arm that held her around the waist and biting the fingers that kept her silent.

She screamed around the thick digits even as he wrestled her to the floor and pressed his superior weight against her. She’d read stories like this. The nice, quiet guy building a fantasy in his mind and killing the neighbor or workmate or stranger off the street because he thought she should love him. Hell, even if John was suffering from a type of mental breakdown, his actions definitely pointed to her being the one in danger—from him.

Beyond blind panic now,
Tara
managed to bite him hard enough to make him grunt.

“Baby, please, they’ll hear you. Please don’t fight me. I need to keep you safe.”

She’d heard enough. The most terrifying experience she could ever imagine was happening right now, and it didn’t have anything to do with whoever “they” were.

She bit down harder, her desperate screams turning to whimpers of fear as he held her tighter. She felt a tingle at her neck, and then everything faded.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

* * * *

Tara
woke with her head pounding, her mouth dry, and her lips sore and cracked. She opened her eyes to complete blackness, and it took a long time to realize that she was in a very dark room and not suffering blindness. The smallest amount of illumination came from a tiny LED-type light in the wall. She blinked several times, trying to improve her vision but had little success. She breathed heavily as fear invaded her senses and she remembered how she got here.

John.

Tara
moved quietly, only then realizing that her hands were bound together and tied to something. Heart pounding painfully, she used her fingers to follow the tether back to its point of origin. She almost cried out loud when she realized that the thick, plastic-feeling rope looped back on itself and was secured between her wrists. She tried to lift the knot to her mouth only to realize that there seemed to be no end. No actual knot or buckle holding the thing together. She tried to stem her rising panic as she used teeth and tongue to try and identify how she was bound. It seemed to be a continuous loop with no beginning or end, and she tugged at the bindings hoping for something to give, for some luck, for divine intervention. None were forthcoming.

She closed her eyes, trying to still her breathing as she listened intently for a noise. Nothing, absolute silence, and it probably explained why she wasn’t gagged. If the room was isolated enough or soundproofed enough that she couldn’t hear anything, then chances were no one would hear her pleas for help even if she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Swallowing against the trapped feeling and the bile creeping into her throat,
Tara
tried to get her brain to work rationally. John had taken her, saying that he had to protect her. Protect her from what? Even if he was delusional—and that was looking very likely—chances were that he wouldn’t hurt her. Well, not yet at least. She needed to find an approach, figure out what he wanted from her, so that she could maybe talk him down.

He’d always seemed like such a nice guy, and she’d never seen any indication that he was using drugs. Maybe this was a one-off thing. Maybe when the drugs wore off he’d come to his senses and let her go. That was assuming, of course, that he actually remembered where he’d hidden her.

She tried to slow her breathing, but nothing could calm the fear of being left here tied to a wall until she died. She crouched low, bracing her back against the strange metallic wall, as she tried to sort fact from fear.

He hadn’t hurt her, and despite the fact that he’d terrified her and drugged her, he hadn’t actually damaged her. Nothing hurt, so she was fairly certain he hadn’t done anything untoward while she was unconscious.

Everything he’d said indicated that he was trying to protect her. Delusional or not, he believed she was in danger from someone else and that it was his responsibility to protect her. Maybe she could work with that. Go along with his ideas, make him feel like she was cooperating with him until she could get some help. She squashed the fear down and resolved to be a good little prisoner until she could find a way out.

The last thing she expected was a stranger to walk through the door.

* * * *

Alec walked into the room cautiously and switched on the small light in the corner. One thing he did know was that not everyone was as comfortable in the dark as he and John, and he wondered at John’s state of mind when he’d left a frightened woman in a pitch-black space. She was already terrified, just judging by the bite marks on John’s hand. Despite the fact that they were trying to help
Tara
, there was no way he was getting close enough for her to sink those teeth into him.

“Are you hungry?” he asked quietly, speaking to her in the same way he’d seen a vet on television speak to an injured animal. She looked at him for a moment, fear, anger, and mistrust crossing her features before she smiled. He didn’t trust that smile at all. Animals often bared their teeth before attacking.

“Can you help me?” she asked in a friendly manner.

“We helping you,” he said in the same low voice he’d used before. “Are you hungry?”

“Where’s John?” She tried to look around him to the open doorway as if she expected the man himself to be standing there.

“Supplies. He back soon.”

“Can you help me?” she asked again, this time sounding more desperate. “Can you untie me before John gets back? I need to go home.”

“No go home,” he said shaking his head. His English language skills were still poor, and he was really regretting not trying harder to learn when he’d had the chance. He searched his brain for the right words. So far she didn’t seem to understand his question. “Food. Are you hungry?” He made a motion with his hand that he hoped would translate to eating. She shook her head. He wasn’t sure if she was saying she wasn’t hungry or that she didn’t understand, but she began talking quickly, and he had to concentrate to keep up.

“I need to go home. You have to let me go. John is dangerous. You have to let me go before he gets back.”

He thought he understood the words, but their meaning didn’t really make much sense. Why would she want to go home? They were coming for her, and he and John had to keep her safe.

He shook his head the way he’d seen John do. “No, they coming. No home. Dangerous.”

She shook her head as tears flowed from her eyes. More words tumbled rapidly from her mouth, but this time he missed most of them. She was very agitated, and he wasn’t certain why. John had told him she was frightened, and therefore dangerous, so she needed to stay tethered to wall at least until they could ensure her safety.

She kept talking, her words getting louder, and he realized that she would soon be heard by the neighbors if he didn’t close the door. Considering her agitated state, and sharp teeth, it was probably not a good idea to lock himself in with her. He turned to leave the room, but she let out such an alarmed sound that he hesitated. Against his better judgment, he closed the door and stayed on this side.

* * * *

Tara
tried hard to bring herself back down from hysteria. Even though the situation certainly warranted a panicked response, a small, rational part of her brain demanded that she at least try to think clearly.

She took a deep calming breath, wiped her hands against her eyes as best she could, and then attempted to smile at the stranger.

“What’s your name?” she asked, trying to sound friendly.

He pointed to his chest, seemingly confirming the meaning of her question. She nodded carefully.

“Alec,” he said in that same deep tone he’d used before. He was a big man. Not quite as huge as John, but just as tall, just as handsome. Too bad they were both delusional.

“Alec, I need you to listen to me,” she spoke slowly, trying hard to pronounce the words clearly. She suspected that his English was poor, so the calmer she stayed, the better chance he had of understanding her. “John made a mistake. No one is coming for me.”

Alec shook his head. “John protecting you. No mistake.”

“No, Alec,” she said firmly. “John is wrong. No one is coming for me. I need to go home.” Alec titled his head as if considering her words. “Please, you need to help me get out of here.”

Feeling more desperate she tried another angle.
Tara
lifted her arms showing him her bound wrists. “John is holding me prisoner. He is not protecting me. He is abducting me.”

“Abducting?” he asked slowly, seeming to roll it around his tongue like he’d never said the word before.

She nodded. “Yes, abducting me. Taking me away against my will.”

He nodded as if he understood, but his next words deflated her small hope.

“Yes, not
Tara
’s will, but John protecting.” He came closer, approaching her as if he expected her to attack him despite being attached to the wall. Slowly, he reached a large hand toward her face, and she forced herself to stay still as he wiped the wetness from her tears away. “Soon,
Tara
be safe.”

She shook her head as more tears gathered in her eyes. She had no idea who this man was, but it seemed pretty obvious now that he wasn’t going to help her.

“Are you hungry?” he asked again.

She didn’t answer, just hung her head lower as despair crept through her, stealing her energy, stealing her hope.