Page 12 of Tempted By Sin

“That’s it, little bird. Come for me like the good girl I know you are.”

That is all it takes for me to dive off the edge of the cliff with no safety harness on, barreling toward the jagged rocks lying in wait at the bottom. My head spins as I come on my slick fingers. They’re a stark reminder of what I just did.

I’ve barely come down from the high, my vision clearing slightly as I open my eyes and stare at the moldy roof. Guilt consumes me, crashing over me so harshly I struggle to get air into my lungs.

I just got myself off to a man who kidnapped me and chained me to a bed. A man who is not my fiancé.

My hands fly up to rest over my face, and I groan into them. I can’t believe I just did that. What the hell is wrong with me? I could blame my actions on being trapped in this room and needing some relief, but thinking about my captor while doing so is next level fucked up. I’m a mess; that’s the only explanation I can conjure up. If I analyze the fantasy of being touched by my captor lingering in the back of my mind, I may not like what I discover.

I need to get the hell out of this room before I lose my goddamn mind.

CHAPTEREIGHT

Paetyn

The longer Isit on the mattress, staring at the moldy roof, and counting each time the masked man enters the room, the more I begin to lose my goddamn mind. Just as I thought would happen. Each second ticks by painfully slow, leaving me with nothing to do but sit and think. Think about the situation I’m in. Think about my mother and if she’s okay. And think about the masked man and the tension between us that only seems to grow each time he visits my room.

A few days have passed since I got myself off to my captor. Shame and guilt have plagued me ever since, reminding me how terrible of a person I am. I have a fiancé searching for me, and here I am finger fucking myself at the thought of another man. The same man who kidnapped me.

I’m beyond fucked up. Or maybe I’m just going crazy the longer I’m trapped inside these four walls. The walls feel as though they’re closing in on me, suffocating me inch by inch. If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to die.

With a huff, I sit up on the mattress, the box springs groaning. Surely, there has to be something in this room that can aid me in getting out of here. I checked the room for a way out when I first woke up, but the masked man entered before I got a good look. Since the warning he issued me about not being able to leave, I haven’t snooped around, fear rooting me to the confinement of my bed.

But I’m done sitting around hoping someone will find me and praying that a miracle will descend upon me, allowing me a way to escape. The longer I sit and wait for something positive to happen, the less chance I have of surviving. I refuse to continue being a sitting duck.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and grip the chain around my ankle to stop it from dragging along the floor. The floorboards beneath my feet groan as I stand. I cringe at the sound, hoping my captor doesn’t burst into the room to check what is going on. So, I wait. My lungs scream at me as I hold my breath, waiting to hear his heavy footsteps approach the door.

But nothing happens. No footsteps. No voices. No nothing.

Blowing out a long breath, I get to my knees to search under the bed. There has to be something under here, right? The metal frame has a gap between the base and the floor, with four thin legs holding it upright.

The floor is cold against my chest as I drop to it. My nose crinkles at the assault of dust bunnies, the product of the room being dirty. Who knows when it was last cleaned? But I fight the urge to sneeze and instead hold my breath as I gaze under the bed.

My heart deflates slightly at the empty space shadowed in darkness. Despite my disappointment at there being nothing of substance as far as I can see, I won’t allow this to deter me from finding a way out of here.

Resiliently,I reach under the bed and feel around, hoping I can latch onto something that can help me. I don’t care what it is, at this point. I just needsomething.

Dust continues to find its way into my nose and eyes, making it difficult to keep from coughing or sneezing. But I’m not going to wrap this search up empty-handed. I keep telling myself there has to be—

My eyes round at the feel of metal grazing my fingertips. The thumping of my heart in my ears intensifies at the prospect of having found something useful. I reach forward a fraction more, which allows me to wrap my hand around the mystery object.

I scramble away from the bed, eager to allow my lungs to breathe in fresh air and to see what I found. Falling on my ass, careful not to let the chain scrape against the floor, I eye the item in my hand. To my surprise, it's a metal pole about fifty inches long. It’s not super thick, so maybe it had fallen from the bed frame, lying unnoticed beneath it.

The longer I stare at it, turning it over in my hands to ensure I’m not seeing things, the quicker my heart hammers in my chest. This is it. This is what I have been searching for. It may not be enough to help me escape through the boarded up window, but with the right amount of force, if I were to hit my captor over the head with it, I may have enough time to search his body for the key to the lock on the chain around my ankle and find my way out of wherever I’m located.

A smile turns up one side of my mouth as I imagine beating the masked man over the head with the pole, my freedom inches away. I can almost taste fresh air on my tongue and feel sunlight on my skin at the thought of no longer being trapped here.

If this plan is to work, I need to think rationally. The next time he comes into my room to offer me food, I need to wait for that split second when he has his back turned to me before walking over to the chair by the door before I strike. If I’m lucky enough, he won’t see it coming.

With newfound confidence coursing through me, I hop onto the bed and sit cross-legged, my eyes focused on the door. I shove the pole under my pillow, my fingertips grazing it slightly as I hold my arms behind my back. Now, all I have to do is wait.

Waiting…

Waiting…

Click.

I eye the door as the lock on the other side is unlatched. Within seconds, the door swings open to reveal the masked man. He enters with the same red tray he uses every time he brings me food. This time, a steaming bowl of chicken and corn soup sits in the middle next to a buttered roll.

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