Page 9 of Suspicion

He was going to kidnap her. He’d said so out loud.

“Why would I help someone who wanted to withhold my liberty?” Her voice was scarcely even a whisper as she tried to articulate her viewpoint. His glare darkened as he answered.

“Because he’s withholding your liberty.” His lips twisted at her absurdity. “And he has all the power.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Her voice trailed away as she struggled to comprehend her situation.

She couldn’t reconcile conformity to his plan, even though his logic made sense for her safety and wellbeing. Yet she didn’t want to anger him either. God only knew what his tall and foreboding stature was capable of.

What message would it send to him if she rolled over and allowed him to manhandle her? Her compliance could be misconstrued as consent, and if Tucker assumed as much, how would she ever look at herself in the mirror again?

Assuming I ever see a mirror again.

Her brows knitted, pain jabbing in her chest as she contemplated how stark this situation was compared to normality. She could kiss goodbye to everything she’d ever known, as well as her freedom.

Ella was the first to admit that she’d led a privileged life. She’d been short of little, even before Alexander’s money started to feather her mother’s nest, and her dad’s abundance had only amplified her luxury. However, even recognizing her good fortune didn’t allow her to be that woman—the woman who fluttered her eyelashes and acquiesced when the bigger, stronger bully sought to take control. She didn’t want to be the woman who smiled sweetly and accepted her fate.

She was definitely not that woman.

She owed it to herself, to her mother, and frankly, every woman out there to fight for her freedom.

“Make your choice.” His expression hardened.

“Will you untie me if I do as you say?” She had no intention of obeying him but was happy to lull him into a false sense of security so she could rid herself of the damn ropes. Maybe then, she’d have a chance to flee, even if the enormous hulk of a man looming over her wasn’t certain to catch up with her.

“No,” he balked, shaking his head as though she was a preposterous child. “You stay bound.”

“Why?” Her voice was stronger that time, her frustration radiating through her fear as she held his gaze. “Why do I need to be bound?”

“Why must you ask so many questions?” His head tilted, and for one horrifying moment, she thought he might kiss her.

Her heart stopped as she considered what that meant.

Did he find her attractive? Was that the reason he sought to have her holed up in his house? Sure, the thought of his unwelcome advances had flitted through her head, but she hadn’t permitted herself to linger on them until that moment.

What the hell was she going to do if he made her submit? She wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

“I’m confused,” she rasped. “You have to remember, I didn’t know anything about this until a few minutes ago.”

“Hmmm.” He didn’t sound convinced, but at least he’d straightened, permitting more space between them. “Either way, we have to go, and you still haven’t made your choice.”

Holding her breath, she scanned his face for clues about his true intentions. What did he have in mind when he held her at his place? Earlier, he’d told her that hurting her wasn’t the plan, but could she believe him in light of unraveling events?

“I don’t know what to say.” Once more, her focus flitted around the trees behind him, searching frantically for a way out she’d managed to overlook.

But of course, there were none.

She hadn’t missed anything.

Ella was on her own with the unknown quantity that was Tucker Bowman.

“Good.” His lips curled, but she couldn’t help feeling the smile was in some way insidious. “I’ll take your silence as approval.”

“What?” Her heart rate accelerated. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t want to go with you. I’m not Alexander’s to give away!”

“You call your dad Alexander?” Tucker’s brow furrowed, his apparent perturbed response seeming to throw him off track.

“Sometimes.” What did how she referred to her spineless father have anything to do with her plight? “I don’t have that much to do with him.” And based on where she was standing, it wasn’t difficult to see why. “But I didn’t think he’d do anything like this.”

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