230 This Wasn’t Stockholm Syndrome
Marcel stifled his laughter for the umpteenth time as Arianna kept glaring daggers at him. Who knew she was more innocent than she looked? Moreover, it was not his fault anyway, she was the one who didn’t respond on time to his warning. Still, yet, her flushed face was cute to look at.
“Stop laughing!” Arianna said through gritted teeth. She was embarrassed to the core as it was, she didn’t need his reminder.
Her face flushed again when the image of him showed up in her mind; she couldn’t get it out of her head no matter how hard she tried. Although it had been just a flash before she screamed and threw her face the other way when he dropped the towel, the image was deeply imprinted in her head. It was quite frustrating.
Right now, both of them were in the hotel’s restaurant having their breakfast. To her relief, Arianna was wearing fresh clothes that Marcel had gotten her. His efficiency stunned her – he probably made the order while she was asleep – but the fact he knew her size down to the panties bothered her.
It didn’t bother her in a pervy way, rather she was bothered her walls were beginning to crumble thanks to this man next to her. This had to be Stockholm syndrome.
Arianna understood that the syndrome was a psychological response to being held captive. One of the symptoms Is the victim developing positive feelings toward the person holding them captive or abusing them and pushing negative feelings toward police, authority figures, or anyone who might be trying to help them get away from their captor.
However, Arianna would report Marcel the moment in a heartbeat if she gets the chance, hence, she guessed this wasn’t Stockholm syndrome. Sure, she sympathized with Marcel for his tough childhood, but he’s grown up and has the opportunity to make his decision. But he chose to kidnap her, he has to suffer for his crime.
So Arianna made up her mind, she was leaving this hell hole if help is made available, however, she can’t show excitement on her face, or else the observant Marcel will figure out what she was thinking.
“That tattoo on your shoulder,” Arianna brought up the conversation to still her busy mind, “Is the picture of the lion you used to scare me back home, isn’t it?”
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She couldn’t forget the way that mighty, ferocious face of the lion covered the majority of his back while the manes spread out to the sides of his stomach and on his shoulder, with none crawling up his neck or arm so you couldn’t tell he was wearing a magnificent tattoo unless he undressed.
Maybe it was better that way, at least women wouldn’t deceive him with the excuse of seeing his tattoo just to have him undress, the dark side of her relished that outcome.
“His name is Samson,”
Her brows raised, “Really? I thought Samson in the Bible killed the lion, why did he become the lion instead in reality,” Arianna dramatically shivered, “I pray you never name your kids,”
Marcel threw his back and laughed heartily enough to draw attention to them, not that Marcel minded. And Arianna had to admit as she poked her food, she did like the fact she made him happy. That laughter was not forced, it was sincere and it warmed her from the inside out.
“I’m sorry you misunderstood the reason for his appearance,” Marcel of all people apologized to her? It was shocking. But she let him go on, “I had him there to keep watch over you while I left to finish on with my assignment.”
At the mention of the assignment, she knew it couldn’t be something good and probably had violence to it. But she didn’t say anything as he continued to tell her about the lion – as if she would make friends with it – yet she listened. That was the least she could do.
Marcel told her how Samson was brought to him as a baby cub and it was his mission to domesticate it. Although he had help from specialists and researchers, most of the bonding and rearing had fallen on him – to prove himself.
Arianna didn’t need to ask who he was trying to prove himself to because it was obvious it was his father. That man really had questionable morals, she would tell him that if they met.
Joking.
Was she crazy? Why would she go near that madman? Someone who could do that to his son, who knows what he would do to her. Even if she didn’t love her life, Arianna wanted a peaceful death.
After minutes of assuring her that she was safe around Samson as long as she didn’t startle him, they were finally ready to leave. By now, her heart was beginning to pound hard in her chest as realization dawned on her, she was returning to the base.
After all of her efforts, it still came down to this – back to level one. It was very annoying and the resentment she had for Marcel returned in full force.
“Even if you call out to the authorities here, they would not do anything, why? Because the hotel belongs to my family,” He told her as they neared the entrance where security stood.
Marcel’s arms were wrapped securely around her waist, so she couldn’t take off even if she wanted to. He was like an irritating octopus! And just like that, she lost an opportunity to be set free, but Arianna didn’t give up on hope.
He guided her into the same jeep from yesterday, the only difference being he was the one driving this time while she was a passenger. The both of them didn’t say a word to each other along the way, the tension was high.
Unfortunately, Marcel ran out of fuel and he had to drive to the next filling station to fill up. While he was still trying to park next to the gas station attendant, Arianna’s eyes met a patrol car that was across the road and her heart leaped in joy.
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