Page 7 of Hacker Beloved

4

ZAYLA

My eyes snapped open,while memories of being tied to a cold metal table flooded my mind. I could still hear his robotic voice warning me of a punishment I would have to endure, because two figures had entered the warehouse and set off an alarm.

A sudden realization hit me like a wave—this wasn't my bedroom. The sheets were silky smooth against my skin as the moonlight cascaded through the curtains creating an ethereal atmosphere. I jolted up from the bed and stumbled toward the window.

I gazed outside and saw a pitch-black forest that appeared to stretch on forever. I spun around and studied the room, but all I could make out were the outlines of furniture. Then I thought back to the warehouse and those two mysterious figures who had been there. Did they save me, or was this some twisted game concocted by the serial killer? I couldn't shake his words. “We will be playing a game.”

My mind raced with fear as I scanned the room for a weapon. My gaze settled on the nightstand; a white lamp sat atop. With trembling hands, I unplugged it and held it in front of me like a shield. I took a steadying breath and stepped toward the door, but my foot caught on the corner of a decorative rug. I stumbled forward, trying to catch myself, but it was too late. The lamp flew from my grip and smashed against the hardwood floor—the glass base shattering into fragments. I tried to fall to the side, but I came down on the glass shards. Pain shot through my hand as one piece pierced my skin.

I held my breath as I slowly sat up, cradling my throbbing hand. The noise of the falling vase seemed to echo in the otherwise quiet room. My heart sank as I heard the tell-tale sign of footsteps, and with each passing second they got louder. Panic rose up in me like bile as the doorknob turned, opening the door, and two tall figures stood in the doorway. The one on the left flicked on the light switch temporarily blinding me with its intensity.

“You’re bleeding,” a deep voice stated the obvious.

I blinked a couple of times, and my vision slowly came into focus. “You’re naked!”

The man on the right scratched his eight-pack ab and chuckled. It took a moment for me to realize it was Asher, and the taller blond next to him was CJ.

CJ flashed her a pearly white smile. "We were naked a moment ago, but we put on boxers," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

My eyes traveled back down their male model bodies and verified they both had on boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"We weren’t sure when the drugs would wear off, and I didn’t think you would react any better if we’d camped out in your room," Asher said with a sly grin.

I’m not sure there was any perfect way to wake up from being rescued from a kidnapper. I took a deep breath to collect my thoughts. It was hard with these two handsome and confident men who appeared to have no issues with showing off their bodies. I couldn’t help but stare.

"Let me help you get your hands cleaned up," CJ said. "And Asher will make us all a midnight snack."

CJ stepped further into the room, and suddenly the bedroom felt much too small.

“I’ll meet you both in the kitchen,” Asher said before he turned, and I caught sight of his perfect backside.

“I like to watch him walk away as well. He sure does have a nice ass.”

My cheeks burned at being caught checking out the other man’s fiancée. I’d seen the articles about the two of them posted online. “I’m so sorry.”

CJ hunched down next to me, and his knee brushed against my arm. “Don’t be. And for the record, your cheeks turn bright red when you're embarrassed.”

“I should probably ask before I go with you anywhere that this wasn’t a second kidnapping, was it?”

“No,” CJ’s smile disappeared. “We did bring you to a safe house until we figure out more. The fucker was gone when we got back to where he had held you. He’d also erased the hard drive, but we can talk more about it while we fix your hand up.”

CJ stood and extended his hand, and I grabbed it with the one not bleeding. As he pulled me onto my feet, I felt a wave of warmth wash over me. My hand still ached, and I glanced down, noting the rivulets of blood racing across it.

He led me down a long hallway into an open foyer. This house was huge, but I didn’t have time to look around before he nudged me toward the kitchen. When I stepped into the modern kitchen, I noticed Asher by the counter, busily making us sandwiches. The smell of melted cheese filled the air, and I couldn’t help but smile at the kindness of the gesture.

Asher noticed us and waved. “Come sit. I’m almost done,” he said.

I glanced at CJ. He pressed his hand to my back, and led me to a chair. “Have a seat while I go grab some things to play doctor,” he uttered.

“How does your head feel? Some sedatives can give you a killer headache.”

“No headache, but my brain does feel foggy.” Or I was still dreaming, and the two half-naked men didn’t rescue me.

I watched Asher place a tomato on the sandwich before he grabbed some cut-up onions. He glanced up from the plate. “I know it’s the middle of the night, and you hurt your hand, but it’s probably best we go over what happened. We need as much information as possible to find this fucker.”

“The interrogation can wait for us to finish eating,” CJ declared as he walked back over to the counter with a bowl of water and a first aid kit. He set the supplies on the island and brushed his fingers against my hand. I winced as he wiped the blood away, but he kept his touch gentle and steady.

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