Page 5 of Ghoul Kisses

My eyes crack open, and my vision is a little fuzzy. My head pounds hard like I’ve got the worst hangover in history. I focus on the flat screen television mounted on the beige wall. The OWN channel is on, with an ad for a weight loss product. Where the hell am I? I have no memory coming here. The last thing I remember is Pete asking me about a key, then that terrible stabbing pain in my neck. I still remember the burn I felt. Or did I dream that? Maybe he slipped something into my drink to bring me here for his sick game.

I gaze around the clean room and see a duffle bag in a wooden chair. The sun slips from the curtain, lighting up the room. I jump up from the fluffy bed, realizing an IV is in my right hand. Two empty bags are hanging from a pole. The fuck? Who would do this? Oh My God! I’ve been picked up for sex trafficking. Pete brought me here to use me as a prostitute. My chest pings with fear. Panicking, I peel the needle from my hand. I need a weapon to protect myself from him. I refuse to go down without a fight. Racing into the bathroom, I find feminine products neatly stacked on the granite counter. I eye the toothbrush holder and notice an electric purple toothbrush. Is that my toothbrush? I pick it up and study it. It is my toothbrush! A Tampon box, prominently displayed, has a note in permanent marker scrawled across the top of the box: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? I stroll to the closet and find my clothes hanging up neatly, and organized by color.

I sprint to the door and turn the knob. It’s locked. My chest tightens as panic clogs my throat. I can’t breathe. I bang on the door and scream at the top of my lungs. The door flings open, and a guy stands there, staring at me with a blank expression. His black hair is cut low to his scalp, and his eyes are the color of charcoal. He is tall, with broad shoulders and beautiful tan skin. Attractive is an understatement to describe him—he is gorgeous. I shouldn’t be attracted to him; he kidnapped me!

He holds a breakfast plate, but I’m far too nervous to consider eating. When I refuse, he sets the plate down on the dresser. He’s probably drugged me so he can pimp me to his clients. I am not going to be one of his sex slaves. I sprint past him and head out the door, screaming at the top of my lungs. In a blink of an eye, he stands in front of me. He flips me over his shoulder like a rag doll, and I beat my fist against his hard back.

“Let me go!” When we enter the room, he drops me on the bed and shuts the door, locking it. I gulp. I climb on the bed away from him. If he thinks about coming near me, I’m going to knee him in the balls.

“You’re not going anywhere until you answer my questions.” his voice is deep, warm like a cup a coffee. I fold my arms across my chest.

“You can’t keep me here!” I scream.

“I don’t want you here, either,” he says condescendingly. Well, if he doesn’t want me here, why is he forcing me to stay?

He looks into my eyes, and I look away. God, he is beautiful.

“Where did you get the necklace?” he asks, leaning against the wall and shoving his fingers into his pockets.

“What necklace?” A hint of annoyance is in my voice. I am sick of people asking me about something I don’t know anything about.

“The old key in your purse,” he deadpans.

First, he steals my stuff from my home, and now he’s gone through my purse. What the hell is wrong with him? He is unbelievable! I bite back the anger tugging at me before responding to his question.

“My mother.”

“Where is she?”

“Dead.” My mother died in a freak car accident a year ago. Her Toyota Highlander caught on fire, and the paramedics had to pry her out. When they got her out, they weren’t able to identify her body. I push myself back on the bed until the back of my head touches the headboard. I shake my head at the horrible memory. The guy watches me through his dark eyes.

“You saved me from Pete?” I ask meekly.

“He got away; the vamp wants your key.” Vamp? Surely, he’s not talking about vampires.

“By vamp, do you mean a vampire?” He waits for a few moments before responding.

“Yes.” Unbelievable, I’m stuck here with a psycho or a junkie.

“Why would he want my key?”

“It unlocks a powerful book,” he says coolly. There is no way my key does this. It’s just something my mother had given me before she passed away. It was important to me because it came from her.

“Help me find the Zenith book,” he asks-slash-demands, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“And if I don’t?” I ask. I’ll go along with his hallucination until I figure a way out of here.

“You will die. Pete is still out there, and he will not hesitate to kill you.”

Why should I trust him? He could be a dick like Pete. He doesn’t look like he will hurt me, but after the date with Pete, I don’t know what to believe.

“How do I know you won’t kill me?”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” I study his facial expression, unable to read his mood.

“Do we have a deal?” He extends his hand. I swallow deep breaths, calming my nerves. What choice do I have? If he’s telling the truth about Pete coming after me, then I’ll take my chance here.

“You can have the key,” I say.

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