Page 18 of Striker

They’re keeping me as a prisoner, but like all prisons, I’m being watched.

Heavy footsteps fall outside the bedroom and stop. Through the crack at the bottom of the door, I can see his shadow standing on the other side. I know it’s him. It’s like my body can sense his nearness. My heart jackhammers in my chest, even though he does this several times I day and I already know what to expect. There’s a part of me that fears he’ll slide the lock back and come in. But he again just stands outside the door saying nothing.

The first time, I screamed and pounded on the door, giving in to my fear and desperation, only to be ignored. I won’t do it again.

Just as suspected, after a few minutes, Reaper turns and leaves.

It’s part of the mind-fuck.

That’s why I’m about to fuck with them.

My forehead hits the window panel, my breath fogging up the glass. It’s cold, bitter cold, but I found cable knit sweaters in the armoire my first day here, along with the old vintage dresses and simple cotton bras and underwear. Some fluffy socks and a pair of brown leather boots with long laces.

“You could at least light the fire when you sneak in here next time, Striker,” I say, not turning from the window. I don’t know if they can hear me through the camera, but I’ve been talking to them for days. At first I remained silent, refusing to give them the satisfaction that whatever they are trying to accomplish is getting under my skin, but at this point, who cares? If I don’t talk, hear my voice out loud, I’m going to go insane.

“If you’re going to kill me, can we just get on with it?” I ask. “I’m so tired of being in this room.”

My stomach rumbles with hunger, and I lower my hand from the glass to touch my belly. My appetite is gone, even if my body wants the nourishment. I can hardly stomach any more than few bites at a time. My nerves are too rattled. .

With all this time I’ve had to think, I have figured out a few things. When I first woke, I knew they were some sort of solider. Professionals, tasked with taking Cora and me.

But, too many days have passed with no sign of my father. If we’re being held for ransom, whatever the asking price for Cora and me to be returned safely may be too high for my father to get easily. He’d have to sell shares, hotel chains, and clubs if they’re asking for maybe hundreds of millions. My father is loaded, but it’s all tied up in real estate. It would take time to gather that much money. He’d have to liquidate all his assets if the price was steep. That would take a while.

Like maybe a few days.

And we’re already on day seven.

The second thing I realized is that my father knowsexactlywho took us, or rather who hired the four to take us, which complicates matters. This means it’s personal, which could be why the ransom may be high and why Reaper said he was seeking revenge. Whoever has a grudge against my father, and that could be literally anyone, is more than likely going to make him sweat.

That means my father may not have been told what he needs to pay just yet. If that’s the case, my father must be losing his mind.

A sliver of delight moves through me at the thought my father probably grabbed Dave and interrogated him in a fit of rage and fear to see if he has any connection to whoever took us.

The one time I acted out when I was a teenager, he sent Clyde to retrieve me. I had gone out on a date, something I wasn’t allowed to do, and we’d parked at the beach to make out, but then Clyde appeared. He’d dragged the boy from the back of the car and beat the shit out of him. I stood there and watched, learning as much of a lesson as that boy whose name I can’t even remember. I wasn’t to be touched.

And so I was careful after that. Then Dave came along and I knew he’d be safe if he touched me.

Now though? The cheating asshole's probably black and blue and I can’t say I’m upset about it.

Zane’s handsome face flashes through my mind. I wonder if Rune questioned him. He’s been with Rune Corporations for years, but only stepped up, working directly under my father around five years ago. My father trusts him, but not like he does Dave.

I wonder if Zane’s covered in bruises too. Probably not. He’s good at playing the game and more than likely is helpingRune tear through his staff, looking for anyone who might be involved.

Another possibility why my father has yet to come for us is that they haven’t contacted him. At all. Once that thought crossed my mind, I had to shut it down because that could only mean one thing. We were being used as tools to get my father to corporate.

That means we’re expendable.

And once that thought took root, it grew thorns and snagged in my mind, and now I know we have to escape. I have to get out of this room, find Cora, and get help. Even if I have no idea where I am, and can only see the ocean spread out before me.

My mind flashes with the image of Manuel on the floor. I squeeze my eyes shut. These guys are murders. Reaper killed my father’s guard in cold blood to get us. I know for a fact he’d not hesitate to kill us if that’s what was wanted. Wehaveto escape.

I shift, the cold metal fork I tucked in my sock poking into my skin, a reminder that I have a plan and it will work.

It has to.

Turning, I lean my back against the large paned window, keeping my eyes cast down to the rough wood floor. I think I know where the camera is located, but I’m not positive. I took a chance my second day here and slipped the small fork under my blankets when I sat down on the bed to eat from the tray.

My eyes drift up, right to the corner where I think it’s located, and say, “Or turn up the fucking heat. You’re aware I’m a south Florida girl, it’s November, and cold as fuck in here, right?” I lift my thick cardigan. “And this isn’t doing the job.”

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