"Life is inherently risky. There is only one big risk you should avoid at all costs, and that is the risk of doing nothing."
Denis Waitley

Cindy

I wake up disorientated, with my head pounding. I touch the sensitive spot on my temple and hiss from the pain. My hands are extended and handcuffed to a water pipe, but I have a small range to move them. I'm sitting on a cold cement floor with my back against a damp cinderblock wall. A chill pulses through me from the moisture in the room, causing my muscles to ache.

I take a moment to glance around the room that is now my prison. I believe that I'm in a basement. At least it looks and feels like a basement. Small windows near the top of the cinderblock wall shed light into the dingy room, revealing the space surrounding me.

It's empty except for a few items. It's like someone just moved out and didn't bother to take what they no longer wanted.

A metal chair is randomly sitting several feet from me. A large wooden shelf unit stands at the far end of the room with some old rusted paint cans sitting there as if they've already fulfilled their purpose.

You can see where a washer and dryer sat next to the water heater because the area has less dust and dirt than the rest of the floor. Under the wooden stairs are an array of buckets and discarded wood that looks like they were leftover from a project.

I take a deep breath. Slowly, everything comes back to me. How will Sam find me now? I gasp when I hear the door above me squeak open. I close my eyes while I listen to the heavy footsteps descending the stairs. "Please hurry, Sam," I whisper to myself in despair.

"Well, look who's awake."

My nightmare continues when I hear Robert's voice.

All that I can remember is the conversation Robert and I had about him wanting to kill me. When he opened the door to my cage and raised his gun, I thought for sure that was the end. Instead of shooting me, he smashed the butt of his weapon into my skull.

Everything went dark.

"Where am I, Robert?" The pain in my head causes my voice to crack.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

He sits on the metal chair just out of the reach of my feet. Wise man, because I would love to give his smug face a sold kick.

Words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Yes, Asshole. That's why I asked the question."

"How dumb do you think I am? Sam is not stupid. I knew your boy would have cops all over that warehouse," he sneers.

Well, damn, maybe he's not the idiot that I led myself to believe. No, he's still an idiot. He did leave his DNA all over my dad's farmette. Even if I die, they'll discover who the culprit is. You're living on borrowed time, Robert. I smile to myself, knowing that I'll get justice no matter what happens to me.

I barely noticed that Robert was still talking.

"I have been planning this since that first threatening note I gave you. You're the one who foolishly decided not to heed my warning."

The blue vein protruding from his wrinkled, flushed forehead gives away this man's resentment for me.

I let out an exasperated sigh, "What are you going to do to me?"

Robert stands and starts pacing the floor, reminding me of the same actions that occurred right before he knocked me into unconsciousness. I get a sick feeling deep in my gut.

"Right now, I'm going to leave you here to rot." He rubs his forehead as if he has a headache.

It's not like someone smacked him in the head with a gun.

He goes underneath the stairs and brings a large bucket over to me. "Don't make a mess."

He stops and looks at me with blank eyes. "I have more important things in my life than to sit around here babysitting the likes of you."

With that, he double-checks my handcuffs, ensuring I'm secure. Once satisfied, he trots back up the stairs, shuts the door, and leaves me with my thoughts.

I'm so fucked. Robert has no intention of murdering me because he claims that he's not a killer. However, it looks as if he has no problem with me dying slowly from starvation.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I'm sure Sam has discovered that I'm missing and is out of his mind. He's probably blaming himself because he promised to keep me safe. It was my fault; I knew this asshole was out to get me. I should have had someone come with me to Big Dog's office.

My analytical mind is in overdrive as I try to figure out exactly how Robert managed to kidnap me. He had to have an accomplice. A woman called me pretending to be the receptionist at Big Dog Contracting. She seemed legit; how would she know that Benson needed those blueprints?

My hand instinctively goes to my injury as my head continues to throb. I swear that I can feel my heartbeat in my wound; it's an odd sensation. The affliction is making it difficult to think.

I gingerly place my head on the cinderblock wall. The coolness of the damp wall gives me some relief.

I know that I should try to stay awake since I might have a concussion. However, exhaustion overtakes me; my eyes grow too heavy and close against my will.

"Cindy, are you okay, Babe?"

I cry out, "Sam? Where are you? I can't see you. Please find me, Sam. I need you more than I ever needed anything or anyone in my entire life."  

"Oh, Babe. I'm right here. I will always be here for you no matter how far apart we are."

Sam's voice is a comfort to my aching soul.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. I should have never left the office on my own. I failed to keep my promise to you: I wasn't careful. I let this happen. Oh, Sam, can you ever forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive. Stay strong, Cindy. I'm coming for you."

I'm startled awake; nothing but darkness surrounds me. It was a dream. A fucking dream. It still gave me comfort. Sam is coming for me. My only job is to stay alive.