Page 68 of Saved from Deception

My eyes are darting around, trying to take everything as quickly as possible.

I’m in a basement, windows blacked out by something outside. A thick comforter underneath me, a cushion against the concrete floor. A door at either end of the large room, one with a lock on it.

“Charlie.” His voice sing-songs at me. “I know this is new for you, but you’ll have to get used to me touching you.”

What? I don’t think so.

Maybe I can use one of those moves Rylan taught me. And I’ve been running a lot lately, spending more time in the gym while Rylan works out. I’m not tied up, I don’t see any weapons, maybe I can escape.

I stare at this man, trying to come up with a plan without looking too obvious. “I need to use the bathroom,” I blurt out, hoping for a distraction. For him to turn his head, to gesture somewhere, and then I can make a run for the locked door.

It can’t be locked from the inside, can it? It could. But I have to try.

My ruse works, and he glances toward the unlocked door. “There’s nothing in there you can use as a weapon, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I’m not thinking that. I’m thinking of running.

I leap up, legs still wobbly, but I force them forward anyway. Sprinting toward the other door, heart slamming against my chest, thinking please please please be unlocked.

And then.

OH. The pain. Daggers stabbing into my back. Agony radiating through my body. Stinging. Burning. My muscles stop working.

I crash to the floor; my arms, my legs, my head bouncing off the concrete. The initial pain subsides and new aches take its place. Everything throbs.

“That wasn’t very smart.” Arms come around my limp body, picking me up, depositing me on something soft. A bed.

A bed?

“I’ll have to tase you again if you try running.” He looms over the bed, frowning at me. “And now you’ll have bruises.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” I can barely get the words out, my voice is so tiny.

“Oh! I should have introduced myself. I’m so sorry.” He sits on the edge of the bed and caresses my hair, his fingers like deadly snakes touching me. “My name is Peter. And you’ll get to know me quickly. We’re going to make lots of videos.”

What? I want to leap up, kick at him, run, do something, but I’m weak, in pain, and he has that taser.

“I loved your videos.” His gaze goes soft, mouth curving into a smile. “Your eyes. Every time I watched, it was like you were looking right at me. I watched you so many times. But then—”

Scowling, his fingers tighten on my hair, tugging painfully. “All the videos disappeared. You disappeared. I was so disappointed.”

Oh. The fear. I’m hunching into myself, cringing from him.

“Imagine my shock, the absolute luck, when I saw a photo of you posted online again. And this time, you were at that bar. That night. So close to me. I had to meet you.”

“Please,” I whisper. “Just let me go.”

“No, Charlie.” He grins at me, and he looks like the devil. “I lost my chance that night, but I knew if I kept watching, I’d see you again. It’s fate. And now, we can make more videos. But they’ll just be for me.”

No. I can’t breathe. Frantic, I scan the room again. There has to be some other escape. And then I realize what he’s done.

In each corner, it’s a set. Like the movies. In one corner, an elaborate bed with curtains and drapes. In another, there's a large table with straps attached to it. Oh no—

And the equipment. Professional looking lights and cameras and is that a green screen?

“No,” I blurt out, terror rampaging through me. “I never made those videos. It’s not me. I swear, it was all an awful trick, it was my face, but it wasn’t me. It never was. I’m not who you want, please let me go, please.”

“Of course it was you.” Peter’s voice sharpens. “Do you think I’m stupid? I saw the videos. I saw you.” A finger trails along my cheek and over my forehead. “Even the little freckle right there.”

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