Page 18 of Eternally Bound

The familiar feeling of warmth slid down my spine, the same way it had all day. It was a feeling I’d get every so often throughout the last twelve years, but it had never been present for days and so strong as it had over the past couple of days. It made me edgy, maybe slightly paranoid, knowing what Callen had done.

As I performed the famous opera songs from the operaCarmenby Georges Bizet, also known as theHabanera, it felt like an irony to be singing it. The famous melody expressed mad love that could take a beautiful turn or simply ruin everything.

I finally had to conclude that I had never let go of my affection and love for Daniel Carrington. Despite my cousin warning me that he was part of the mafia, it didn’t stop me from seeking him out. The man I ran into in the bad part of London told me he was banging a chick and scared the living daylights out of me. It still wasn’t enough to extinguish my love for him.

I couldn’t forget the young man that sat on the couch with me and watched silly movies. Or the man that held my hand as we shopped for veggies in the market. Maybe he was part of the mafia, but there was good in him. I tried to forget him; God knew I tried. But I couldn’t. My heart found my soulmate early on in my life, and nobody compared to him. I tried to find comfort in Callen’s arms, but I was wrong. The whole fiasco with Callen was just as much my fault as it was his. I had never loved him. Cared for him, yes. I had a certain affection for him, especially as the father of my son. But it had never been anything more.

My heart was given to a man I barely knew and love remained. Despite what I’d learned in front of that grey building in East London, my heart refused to be reasonable when it came to the man I fell in love with.

“Congratulations!” Another stranger embraced me. “It was a marvelous performance.”

I just nodded with a smile, although neither my heart nor enthusiasm were into today’s performance. Nor was I up to the mingling. Yes, I loved singing, but the feeling that lurked, that tingling at the back of my neck, had me on alert rather than lost in the tunes and lyrics of the song.

Singing had been my first love. Daniel my second. Of course, since I had Bram, the shift in love and affection changed drastically. Bram was my whole heart. Singing and Daniel tied somewhere behind, the enthusiasm for either having weakened. Maybe it was a result of a broken heart.

Spotting my chance, and an open window of opportunity, I snuck back to my dressing room, changed, and headed through the back door and out into the night. I exited through the back door as I had every time before. It was a way to avoid being mobbed by the crowd and fans after a performance. Since I decided to leave the party early, security wasn’t in place. It was better this way since the streets were much emptier now rather than later.

The chilly December air felt good on my heated skin. Inhaling deeply, I let the air fill my lungs. It wasn’t as fresh and crisp as Scotland air, but it was better than the crowded room I just escaped from.

Through the back alleyway, I started to make my way to the main road. That feeling of being watched slid down my spine, and I glanced over my shoulder again. Before I even scanned the area, I knew I wouldn’t see anything. It was always the same. I sped up my steps. You never knew if someone was really lurking in the shadows, and it would be stupid to be caught in a dark alley.

I kept walking, but not soon after taking several steps, I swore I heard another set of shoes against the pavement echoing through the alley. Nervously, I spun around, but again only saw an empty street. My eyes scanned the dark alley, lit only by the glow of the moon, but I couldn’t see anything. Only shadows that freaked me out even more.

I resumed walking and my heart beat faster as I heard footsteps again, someone giving chase. All kinds of scenarios played in my mind. Did the men that Callen owed money decide to come and take what he owed them? Nothing has happened since I had that conversation with Callen, and it has been over two weeks. Naturally, I assumed he was dealing with them directly.

The loud sound of a can rolling over the pavement behind me made me jump.

Picking up the pace, I sped up my steps and then started running, my heart thundering in my ears and against my ribcage. At the end of the alley, there was a large SUV parked, blocking the road. If I could get there, there would be plenty of pedestrians to get lost among. I wasn’t sure anymore if it was my own imagination or real events that were making me panic.

Almost there. Almost there.

As I got closer, I noted it was a black Land Rover with dark tinted windows. I pushed my body forward harder. Running wasn’t my thing; it had never been my thing. Physical exercise and I should never be mentioned in the same sentence.

Before I reached the open street, a set of warm, strong arms came around me, and I opened my mouth prepared to scream. A piece of cloth that smelled like lavender and something I couldn’t quite determine covered my mouth, and I felt my mind scramble against the drowsiness that slowly snaked through my brain.

“No.” I wasn’t sure if I spoke the words or just thought them as my body slumped against a hard, warm chest and the darkness came.

* * *

Slowly,peeling my eyelids open, I couldn’t see much at first. Waiting for my eyes to adjust, I remained still, blinking. My vision slowly came into focus, and I realized I was in a dark room lit by the dim glow of two bedside lamps left on. A bedroom, I realized. I glanced down at my body and noted I wasn’t tied. Not trusting my eyes, I moved my hands and then feet slowly.

Not tied,I confirmed.

The same blue dress was still on me and my palms slowly roamed down the material. Nothing ripped, almost as if I fell asleep in my dress. There were no signs that anyone touched me and a small relief washed over me. But then would I know if someone touched me if I was unconscious?

I probably wouldn’t, I thought sarcastically.

Slowly, I got out of bed, pushing against plush pillows. A light headache lingered in the back of my head, but I pushed it away. It wasn't time for a headache. I was kidnapped. If this had something to do with Callen, I’d kill him. But first I’d have to get out of this fiasco.

My eyes lingered on the large king-sized bed that I just slept on. The bed, along with pillows, blankets, and soft sheets, was exquisite, leading me to think they were very expensive.

Moving quietly, I started to explore the rest of the room. Oh my gosh, this room was beautiful. I wasn’t foreign to luxury, frequently staying in McLaren castle but this room was exquisite. The wallpaper decorated one wall, the climbing thornbush of roses climbing up to the ceiling. It almost looked like a hand-painted wall.

My bare feet tiptoeing on the cold, hardwood floor, I moved silently across the room. I didn’t want to alert my captors till I could get a sense of surroundings.

The other three walls were white, accented with soft gray colors. The large bed I had lain on sat in the middle of the room, the four-poster wood carved with a similar climbing rose pattern as the one wall. There was a gorgeous armoire with the same carved accents and painted panels of roses matching the paper wall. There was also a cabinet in the corner of the bedroom, but I couldn’t quite tell what it was.

“Kidnappers with taste,” I muttered to myself. At least they didn’t put me in some dirty, cold basement. “Look for an escape, Ainslee. Not the damn furniture and decor.”

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