Page 16 of Blood Moon

The lump in my throat grew, and I fought down the panic at the thought that I’d possibly been sex trafficked.

That’s when I noticed him.

I sucked in a startled breath at the broad-shouldered man dressed in a black, long-sleeved compression shirt and black cargo pants. He wore a ski mask with a skull printed on it. His eyes were the only thing visible, and I couldn’t look away. I wanted nothing more than to melt into their warm brown depths.

He reached through the bar and brushed the backs of his tanned fingers over my cheek.

Like a cat, I practically purred as I leaned into his touch. A small voice in my head screamed at me to stop—told me this was craziness. I wasn’t in some dark romance book. Nor had I been his captive long enough to be suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. Yet, I was helpless to stop him.

Instead, I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, holding him close to me.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” he whispered.

There was no explanation for the way I ached to be close to him.

He kidnapped me.

Put me in a cage.

Demanded I take him back in time.Thatshook me out of my stupor.

“I can’t take you back in time.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way,” he firmly insisted.

“You don’t understand… I’ve never done that. I have no idea what could happen. What if we get separated in the in-between and you end up somewhere else? No. I’m not doing it,” I stubbornly refused as I crossed my arms and scowled at him.

A chunk of hair fell over my eyes, and I blew it out of the way.

“You’re cute when you’re acting all huffy,” he observed, amusement coloring his tone.

For some reason, that only aggravated me further. “You know what? I should take you back. Maybe you’ll get jerked away from me and disappear somewhere in time,” I snapped.

It didn’t matter that I couldn’t see the rest of his face. His eyes spoke volumes, and I could tell his humor vanished like a puff of smoke before he softly said, “Maybe that would be for the best then.”

I refused to feel sorry for him, no matter how much my heart seemed to shatter with his solemn reply.

“I’m not taking you back anywhere or to anytime,” I childishly vowed. Then I spun on my bare feet and stomped back to the bed. My lip curled at the thought of what might’ve taken place on that mattress. I’d already been sleeping on it, though, so I grabbed the sheet and tossed it back on the bed. The slippery black satin slid off at first, and I growled in frustration. I snatched it up, threw it back on there, and spread it out. Then I took one of the pillows and slammed it down. It was highly unsatisfying. Hitting him upside the head with it would’ve made me happier.

For some inexplicable reason, I wasn’t afraid of him.

After curling up on the bed, I grumbled, “I’m hungry!”

He didn’t reply, but a little bit later, I smelled something that had my stomach growling. On principle, I didn’t want to turn to see what it was. Except the rumbling coming from me was a powerful motivator. Reluctantly, I looked over my shoulder to see that a tray sat over by the door. Evidently, there was a big enough gap under the door for him to slide it in. A bottle of water was on its side and there were two covered plates.

How I hadn’t heard him sneak it in, I wasn’t sure. There was also something black folded up next to the tray.

“Hello?” I called out, but there was no reply. The room around the cage was dark again, with the only lights in the room lit being the ones directly above my little prison.

Hunger got the better of me, and I went over to get the tray. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious. The folded pile turned out to be a pair of long-sleeve pajamas. I picked it all up and carried it back to the bed. When I lifted the chrome cover, I sighed at the delicious aroma coming from the plate of steaming pasta with a side of seasoned asparagus. A quick peek under the other lid revealed a slice of coconut cake that looked to die for.

“This better not be poisoned!” I shouted. Against my better judgment, I dug in. The first bite was an explosion of flavor, and I wondered where he’d gotten the food from. I actually caught myself moaning as I took the next bite. As I continued to eat the delectable meal, I inwardly plotted all the diabolical ways I could deal with my captor.

I imagined leaving him in the twelve hundreds. Then I imagined dropping him off on a pirate ship. Each scenario had me gloating with glee. When I imagined him separating into a cloud of molecules during the jump, I paused with the last bite of asparagus halfway to my mouth. That thought made my heart ache and my stomach turn. I set the fork back on the plate.

How was it possible that I had the slightest bit of empathy for my jailer’s well-being? There shouldn’t be a scrap of compassion in me for him. Yet, he hadn’t actually hurt me. Nor had he sexually taken advantage of my unconscious state.

I came to the conclusion that if the only way to be set free was to attempt to take him back in time, then I would do it. Hell, it may not work, and I’d have to act fast to escape. If it did work, I could simply leave him there. He wouldn’t get hurt, but he would need to be quick on his feet to figure out how to fit in and survive without a birth certificate or identification. A wicked grin lifted the corners of my mouth.

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