Page 50 of His Dark Pull

The rhythmic sound of running water and the clinking of silverware against the sink fill the silence of the house. A sudden noise from the living room startles me, breaking the peace. “Alexander, is that you?”I call out, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “What did you forget?”

Silence.

A heavy, oppressive silence that sends chills down my spine. My heart begins to race, and icy fingers squeeze the air from my lungs.

What’s going on?

I make my way towards the living room, my steps cautious, my senses on high alert. As I round the corner, my blood runs cold.

Two men, their faces hidden behind black ski masks, stand in the center of the room. Their bodies are tense, and their hands grip guns that glint in the morning light.

Shit, no!

Before I can react, before I can even scream, one of them lunges towards me, his hand clamping down on my arm like a steel vice. I struggle, but his grip is unyielding, his strength overwhelming. He pushes me to the floor, his weight pinning me down, his voice a harsh whisper against my ear.

“Well, that was easy. You are a pretty little girl.”He continues to the other guy, “Blindfold her now.”

The guy on top of me holds his dirty hand over my mouth, so I can’t scream. The other man produces a rough cloth, the coarseness scratching against my skin as he binds it over my eyes.I can’t see anything.All I hear is the thud of their heavy footsteps as they haul me through the house. A cold serpent coils around my heart, squeezing the air from my lungs.

I stumble and struggle against his grip, my attempts to break free as futile as a moth battling a hurricane. The blindfold slips momentarily, revealing a glimpse of the waiting van with dark windows.

A muffled scream tears from my throat, stifled by a rough cloth they shove in my mouth, the taste of dust heavy on my tongue.

“Be quiet, or else,”a gruff voice growls near my ear.

I kick and thrash, my body a weapon against these masked men.

“Enough!”another voice barks, harsher. A sharp pain explodes on the side of my face, the blow sending stars bursting behind my eyelids, leaving a metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

Despair crashes over me like a tidal wave, its weight pressing down on my chest, stealing my breath. I am at their mercy, powerless. The cold metal of the van door slams shut, sealing me in darkness.

The van lurches forward, the engine rumbling to life, carrying me away from Alexander’s home, away from everything familiar and safe.

The bumpy ride and the constant turns disorient me further, making me nauseous. Thoughts of Alexander, of the danger he might be in, mingle with the fear for my own life. My sweaty palms clutch at the rough fabric of the car floor.

* * *

After what seems like hours, the van comes to a stop, the sudden silence amplifying the sound of my own ragged breaths. I am dragged out, my feet stumbling on uneven ground, the scent of damp earth and something else, something pungent and unpleasant, assaulting my nostrils. A rough hand grabs my hair, pulling me forward before shoving me into a cold, confined space.

The blindfold is ripped away, and I blink against the sudden light, my eyes struggling to adjust to the weak lights. The door slams shut, the metallic clang echoing in the small space, leaving me alone with the musty smell of mildew and decay.

Where am I?

The walls are bare, painted a dull, oppressive grey, the peeling paint revealing glimpses of the cold concrete beneath. A single barred window, high up on the wall, offers a sliver of light but no escape. It’s too high, and I won’t fit through it. The room has only a rickety table and a metal chair.

I pound on the door, my fists connecting with the hardwood.

“Let me out!”I scream, my voice hoarse and raw. “It’s a mistake! I’m not who you think I am.”

A low, husky voice responds from the other side, the sound oddly familiar yet terrifying. “Oh, but you are exactly who we think you are, Ava Parker.”

I freeze, my blood turning to ice in my veins. The voice, a low, husky drawl that makes me shake, is familiar, yet I can’t place it. It dances on the edge of recognition, a memory that refuses to solidify.

“Who are you?”I say, my voice is shaky. “Why are you keeping me here? Let me go!”

My pleas are met with a suffocating silence, like a coffin lid sealing me in. I am adrift in a sea of darkness, the minutes stretching and twisting, each one an eternity measured by thedrip, drip, dripof water seeping from a crack in the concrete wall.

Every tick of my watch echoes in the stillness, mocking the agonizingly slow crawl of time. I picture Alexander walking through the door of his mansion, his brow furrowed.Ava?he calls out, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through the empty rooms. But there’s no answer. He finds only silence.Does he think I’ve left him again?Is my disappearance confirmation of all his worst fears? The thought twists in my gut. A distant clang, metal against metal, jolts me back to the harsh reality of my prison.

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