him. He believed Simon, took him at his word, and in his heart Glen knew he was right to believe.
So many moments over these months Glen had wished for death. He was already entombed; all he needed was for his heart to stop beating. He thought about using the chain to choke himself to death, or go on a hunger strike, even stop drinking water, but again fear held him back. He couldn’t and wouldn’t leave his family to Simon.
He knew eventually, soon perhaps, there’d come a tipping point. Nina would upset Simon more than she already had with that job of hers. Maggie would cross him one too many times … and then the blood … then the knife to their throats. So Glen existed—he breathed, ate, pissed, defecated, solely to keep Simon from acting impulsively—or worse, violently—taking from his situation the only parts he could control so that his family might live another day. He had no other purpose.
Horrible as it was to lie to her, it was also unbelievably uplifting to be connected with his daughter again. He felt human. The proximity was intoxicating. He felt like a castaway catching the glow of a distant rescue ship; his heart never felt so full. Alive again. Alive.
When he closed his eyes, Glen transported himself out into a field with Maggie, playing catch with lacrosse sticks and a ball. He felt the sun on his face, so bright and warm, the wind rustling through his hair; he inhaled fresh spring air deep into his lungs. Oh, how he longed to breathe fresh air again. Roll in the grass. Touch the earth. Gaze at the sky. Hug his daughter. Tell her how sorry he was for everything, for tricking her, for lying to his family.
Tricks.
That was how he got into the box in the first place—a dirty, nasty trick.
Suddenly, Glen wasn’t in that field anymore. He was back at the Muddy Moose, reliving the day he first met Simon. He was at the bar, talking with Teresa, doing what he always did back then, nursing a beer because money was tight. Hiding out. He didn’t want to be anywhere near Seabury, and Carson had good fishing, so it was as fine a place as any to try and get his life going in the right direction again. But that effort wasn’t going anywhere; he wasn’t lying to himself anymore. At least he liked the town. He liked the waitress, too. He even liked the man who called himself Bill, who was loose with his wallet and quick with the jokes. Bill had dark hair and a mustache, but those were disguises, worn in case Glen recognized Simon from home.
The whiskey went down easy and then easier. At some point the room was tilting and Glen’s hand made its way to Teresa’s leg. Or had Simon—as Glen now knew him—put it there? Glen didn’t remember. He knew only that he was feeling very drunk. Confused. Then he was outside. A flash. Photographs. He didn’t see anyone taking those pictures, but Simon had shown them to Glen enough times so he knew it had happened. He had kissed Teresa outside the Muddy Moose. But even more happened, and later on Simon would tell Glen about the roofie he had slipped into his drink.
Lowers inhibitions and awareness. It lowers everything.
“Got to be more careful, buddy,” he had lectured, when Glen was in chains. “Never lose sight of your drink at the bar. That’s drinking 101. But I guess that’s what they teach the ladies.”
Glen woke up with a hangover like no other and no memory of how he ended up naked in those rumpled sheets, the smell of sex in the room and Teresa lingering nearby.
“Well, that shouldn’t have happened,” Teresa had said as she poured him coffee.
And it never happened again. Simon got what he had wanted—those two pictures to complete his plan and set everything in motion.
The next time Glen saw Simon it was at the boat launch. Simon had scouted that spot on Lake Winnipesaukee numerous times and correctly anticipated no one but Glen would be there at that hour. Glen was always the first on the lake. It was a thing with him, a source of pride.
Simon parked his truck near Glen’s. It was the same make and model as the one Glen drove, a purchase Simon had made a year before, anticipating this day. He wanted everything for Nina to feel familiar. It was the same reason he