Trigger Warning: This chapter contains depictions of abduction, forced confinement and psychological distress.

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Blake Hart

By nightfall, I heard footsteps approaching.

I was exhausted, sweaty, hungry and more than anything, terrified. I still didn’t know who these people were or what they wanted from me. I was so confused by the whole situation.

Was this about my dad? His business?

Like one of those crime novels where someone gets kidnapped to send a message. But my life wasn’t a book. I’d never once heard my dad talk about anyone dangerous. No shady deals. No enemies.

Well, you also didn’t know he was sleeping with his co-partner while still married, my inner voice whispered.

Fair point.

I guess I was about to find out.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

The voice made my skin crawl. I scrunched my nose at the nickname but forced myself to stay still, stay polite, as the man placed a glass of water and a plate on the floor in front of me. My stomach growled at the sight of the half sandwich. The last thing I’d eaten was pasta. Yesterday.

He crouched in front of me with a threatening smile. It was mocking. Sharp. The kind of smile that promised pain.

He reached forward and peeled the tape from my mouth.

Was he the same man from last day? The one who touched me? Even if he wasn’t, his expression made it clear, he was just as dangerous. I was already expecting the worse but could he at least explain me what’s going on?

“You’re probably wondering why you’re here,” he said.

I nodded, swallowing hard.

“I’m G,” he added, like it meant something.

Should I talk?

I cleared my dry throat, trying to find my voice.

“What do you want from me?” I asked.

Yeah, it was cliché. But it was the only thing that made sense. I still didn’t know who they were, what they wanted, or where we even were. Asking anything more specific felt like walking blind into a minefield. And I was sure he wouldn’t answer those questions. 

“I, personally,” he said slowly, playing with a strand of my hair, “would like to make you comfortable here.”

His fingers twisted the lock gently, as if we were lovers. I wanted to puke.

“But,” he went on, “even though I’d really like that… you’ll have to wait.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

He moved behind me and I tensed instinctively. Then, with a metallic clink, the handcuffs fell to the ground. My wrists throbbed as I rubbed them, blood returning to my fingers in sharp pulses.

G handed me the plate.

“Eat. We don’t want you getting sick.” He stepped toward the door as he glanced back. “And try not to do anything stupid.”

When he left the room, I waited for the click and the footsteps but I heard nothing. 

He’s standing right outside, I realized.

I sniffed at the sandwich first, inspecting the contents like I had any real choice. It didn’t smell drugged. Then again, if they wanted me dead, I’d be dead by now. But I also didn’t want to get dizzy and become more vulnerable than I am now.

Still, I ate slowly. I needed my strength if I was going to run. It was the only thing I had control over.

I stood carefully, legs shaking beneath me. I caught sight of bruises along my wrists, angry, purple marks from trying to break free earlier.

I need something to use the next time they cuff me.

I crept toward the window, peeking out. Two men stood near the back entrance but I didn’t see anyone else around.

Am I the only one being held here?

Then I heard voices, muffled but close.

“I’m telling you, if they find out about this, we’re dead.”

“If we didn’t help him, boss would kill us anyway.”

I froze, listening hard. I was still trying to make sense of their talk. Trying to find an explanation. A reason.

The boss. Was he the one they mentioned during the car ride?

Did he know they kidnapped me?

Who the hell paid to have me taken?

I didn’t have enemies. At least… none that I knew of.

It was my second day missing. Surely someone had noticed by now. My dad. Someone. But we spoke yesterday, and I had no plans. No scheduled meetings. No one who’d immediately sound an alarm.

Even if someone did notice I was gone… would it already be too late?

Realization dawned on me.

I was completely alone.

I pressed a hand to the cold windowpane and looked out at the balcony, and beyond that, the weather-worn exterior of the house.

No one was coming for me.

I had to get out on my own.