Page 28 of Oh No, My Kidnapper Is Hot!

“I– I’m not flirting with– with you!” I stammer out. My face is on fire. He grins.

“Sweetheart, you instigated a play fight when I’m half-naked. What else would you call that?” I make a noise of great affliction, and he smiles wider before rolling off me.

He stands in a quick movement I can barely register, then holds out his hand to help me up. “Enough playin’,” he says. “It’s time for bed.”

I get up on my own, ignoring his hand, and speed into the bathroom before him. I slam the door, then immediately reopen and hold out my hand, face in flames.

“My clothes, please,” I say stiffly, making deliberate eye contact with the wall behind him. He chuckles and sets them in my outstretched hand.

“Don’t take too long in the shower this time,” he says. “I’m dead on my feet and need to re-dress my arm.”

I glance at the arm in question. Hmm. I suppose the pink is looking a bit more brown after our hike. What a shame. It was so cute.

I shut the bathroom door and lock it with a click.

Deep breaths, Millie.

Tomorrow sings freedom.

Chapter Ten

Trigger Warning: Murder

Stryker wastes no time getting us moving the next day, much to my annoyance. I needat leastfive to ten business days to wake up in the morning, and I never get out of bed before nine. Or, rather, I neverusedto. Today, apparently, starts a new lease on life for me, whether I want it to or not.

Stryker insists we need to be out of the house by half past eight. I didn’t know half past eight still existed. I haven’t seen it since high school. I could have happily left it in the past, along with acne and questionable hair choices.

Stryker cares not for my wants, unfortunately. We’re out of the house at 8:30 sharp.

We approach the Mystery Van – the mystery being what noxious disease we’ll contract from it – and Stryker tells me to crawl over the driver’s seat to get to the passenger side. I point out that if he simply takes the cuffs off, I could easily get in through the opposite door. He points out that if he simply locks me in the cage in the back, I could avoid the climb altogether.

I open the driver’s door and scramble quickly into my seat.

I buckle with the same haste. I’ve seen the way Stryker drives. The seatbelt might not be enough to save me once he gets going.

“Have you considered a five-point harness system inhere?” I ask. He clicks his own buckle into place. It’s a marvel it fits over his bulky frame.

“Briefly, but I’ve never been in a police chase, and I don’t plan to in the future, so the idea didn’t go anywhere. Much better to follow road laws to avoid suspicion and the need for extra safety gear.”

I blink. Follow…

“You weren’t following road laws when you kidnapped me!” I remind him. Because really! Who does he think he’s kidding?

He doesn’t answer.

The van grumbles to life, and I can’t help but think he’s trying to prove a point with how gently he maneuvers it down the path toward the guard shack. I eye him.

“Are you trying to gaslight me into thinking you’re a good driver?” I ask. He hums.

“Iama good driver,” he absolutely gaslights me. I snort. Uh huh. Sure. And I’m in a romcom about to find the love of my life.

Yeah, right.

We pull up to the big gate with the guard shack and come to a stop. The shack is on my side, and I watch Baz rise from his seat inside it.

My window rolls down as he approaches, and I lean way back when Stryker reaches across me with an access card. Baz uses a handheld scanner on it which beeps at the same time the gate begins its slow roll open. Stryker pulls his arm back, and I’m grateful for the return of my breathing room. The men do a man nod, then Stryker continues his cosplay of a good driver, pulling forward carefully.

“Are there a lot of people who live here?” I ask him. I counted six houses including Stryker’s cabin, and I know the road dead-ends about half a mile after them at thehiking trailhead. There was one turn off between the cabins and the guard shack, which I assume leads to the gym and pool, but there could be houses down that road too.

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