Page 64 of It Takes a Thief

I obviously couldn’t help without the use of my hands, though. Muldoon sat on the bed fighting with himself. Occasionally the hand trying to get the pencil would punch Muldoon in the jaw and his head would snap back as if not expecting it. What a horror it must be living like that! I almost felt sorry for him until I remembered he was my captor.

“Look,” I begged. “Let at least one of my hands go. Then I could just grab one of your hands!”

But when the aggressive hand succeeded in grabbing the pencil, Muldoon fell on top of my thighs as though exhausted. That pencil was awful pointy and could do some damage, and I felt more frustrated than ever that I was locked up. To my relief his fist relaxed and he dropped the pencil to the floor, but he was panting right against my pubic bone. I wondered if he noticed it, so I sat motionless, tense.

His jaw began to move. Oh, he noticed it all right. His hot exhalations warmed my pussy lips as they hadn’t been warmed in weeks. My damned fucking body responded while I clenched my teeth, my brain screaming NO. My throat muscles constricted as though readying myself to keep down bile.

Remember, you befriended him. Appeal to his friendly nature. He probably doesn’t have many friends. Maybe he needs a friend more than he needs a blowup girl.

“Hey, Muldoon,” I tried to say lightly, giggling a little, mainly out of nerves. I had no idea what this loose cannon was capable of. I shouldn’t underestimate him. “You’re breathing on me.” I practically said the words “ha ha.” Just to lighten the situation, if you know what I mean.

But he was munching away. Did he think I was a piece of chocolate cake? He spread my thighs and shouldered them apart and munched with mouth wide open. It’s frightening how the body responds to all stimulation, without the moral filter of who or what is providing it. They say women can get off riding horses. Using cucumbers. As a teen, I used to get off with the shower head.

But this was a fucking kidnapper, a twisted guy who had paid someone to pretend to be an Uber driver. I had to look to one side, but then my eyes found a mirror. Watching the spectacle, it all seemed alien to me. My body had stopped responding and had gone into self-preservation mode. I barely felt a thing, matter of fact. What was his endgame? To keep me captive like Elizabeth Smart, to turn me into a baby machine? I squeezed my eyes shut. I’m already pregnant…

In that moment, while being mauled by the mouth of a brain-damaged sociopath, I knew I wanted to keep that baby. Desperately. I even started thinking, chanting almost Dear God, if I’m allowed to keep this baby to term with a healthy outcome, I will never lust after Dr. Ellis Chesbrough in my heart. Please, dear God. Let me make it through this all right. Do not punish me for lusting. Even Jimmy Carter lusted in his heart!

Muldoon was getting down to it, gnawing at my pubic bone, my mons veneris. I wondered when was the last time he had a willing woman. With his bizarre tics and habits, who would let him touch them? Who’d know if he wasn’t going for a breast with horny intent only to bite a chunk out of it? Who’d take that risk?

Like I was taking now. It wasn’t worth stringing him along if he was going to inflict permanent damage.

“Muldoon!” I cried. “You’re hurting me!” Although he wasn’t—yet.

To my relief, he stopped. His face appeared above my pubic mound, saliva slathered around his mouth. “Oh, god damnit, did I hurt you again?”

Again? Almost as soon as the word was out of his mouth, he hauled back and punched me. Hard. In the fucking cheekbone. “Bitch!” And again. “Bitch! This is for all the times you made fun of me! How fucking dare you, what gives you the right to make fun of me when my IQ is so much higher than yours?” And again. I smelled blood. I was accustomed to that metallic smell, and I knew he’d crushed my cheekbone and split the skin.

“Stop, Muldoon! I’m not who you think I am! I’m Maddy Illuminati, remember? I’m the girl you like!”

Again, he raised his shoulders, an expression of utter surprise on his face. He must be going through hell with brain damage that extensive. He really should’ve been in a hospice somewhere and not roaming freely doing whatever the fuck it was he did. Squatting in Ochoa homes.

“Oh, God!” Muldoon reached for the handcuff keys that dangled from his chain belt. He had to scoot up close to my hands to unlock them. “God, I’m sorry! See, I do stuff like that. That’s why I can’t have a real girlfriend.” He confirmed my suspicions as he relocked my cuffs in front of me.

“Well, maybe if you met someone, a girl with the same kind of limbic damage,” I suggested, which was outrageous.

“Oh, God, look at your face… Come with me.”

Inside the bathroom he washed me clean with a wet towel. But I saw in the mirror the split would require stitches, preferably by a good plastic surgeon. Like one I knew in P&E.

“Listen here, Maddy. I can’t apologize enough. I want you to be my friend. I want you to like me. I want you to want to stay with me—”

“Wait. Did you not ask my husband for ransom?”

He screwed up his face. “Ransom? What the fuck for? No, I’m keeping you. Ford’ll never find us, don’t you think? We can sleep together, and pray together, and read the Bible together. Soon, when I can trust you, you can walk around freely. But for now, I think it’s best if I keep you cuffed. You can’t get far with cuffs.”

“But Muldoon, that doesn’t make sense. For instance, how will we get food?”

“I’ll make runs down to Show Low. We’ll stay here forever, we’ll be happy, we’ll raise kids—”

Abruptly Muldoon went silent, looking at the ceiling intently, listening. I tensed, too, ready for another attack. There was some squawking from the other room, the room where I assumed he had his Command Central. So I listened, too.

“Ha ha, Noodlum! I hacked the hacker! How does that feel?”

“Fuck it!” roared Muldoon, and he squeaked on his boots down the hall.

Did that voice sound like… Tobiah?

I shuffled off, too, my bound hands in front of my crotch as though I had to pee.