Page 14 of Violent Delights

But he isn’t.

I can’t hear anything but my own erratic breathing, as I stand a step away from the door, wearing only one shoe, the other still lying on the floor where I lost it, right next to the ridiculous fur coat I stole. I take off my other shoe, as well. My feet are still hurting, and this is not a situation that calls for heels.

I turn around, inspecting the small room calmly now that he’s gone. However, there’s not much to inspect. The room has two windows under the roof slope, and both of them are sealed with shutters from the outside. I have no idea where I am. I could still be in the middle of the city or somewhere far, far away. I no longer have my purse, and I have no idea if I lost it when he grabbed me, or if he took it from me before bringing me up here.

Like most people, I use my phone to check the time and no longer wear a watch. There’s no way for me to know how long I’ve been knocked out. Just a few minutes? Hours? Days?

It probably hasn’t been days. I’m sure my body would feel differently if it had been that long. But I can’t even tell if it’s still night out, or already morning.

I turn around in a circle, searching for clues, or for anything that could help me get out of here. But there’s nothing. There’s absolutely nothing in this room, except for me and the clothes I was wearing when he took me. I’m cold, so I decide to put on the red fur coat. As hideous as it may be, at least it’s warm.

What now? There is absolutely nothing I can do, except for yelling and hammering against the door, until he gets bothered enough to let me out.

So that’s what I do.

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