Page 8 of Oh No, My Kidnapper Is Hot!

I toss my jeans and socks into a tall, skinny laundry basket that lives in the space between the sink counter and the wall. I lay my shirt to rest in the trash, muttering a somber farewell. It served me well and did not deserve the end it got. I will honor it always.

There’s one more thing I need to do, and it’s by far the worst I’ve been faced with during this abduction.

The toilet. With Stryker directly outside the door.

“Do you have ear plugs or something?” I call to him. The chain moves in response.

“Ear plugs?” he asks.

My cheeks warm, and I look away from the door.

Great. I’m avoiding eye contact with inanimate objects now. I turn back. I am a very brave and polite girl who canlook at a door when she’s talking through it.

“I have to use the bathroom,” I say.

The chain moves again. “So go.”

My face is on fire.

“I can’t go with you listening,” I tell him, annoyed and embarrassed that I have to spell it out. He doesn’t respond for an eternity.

“Darlin’,” he says, so softly I can barely hear him. I tilt my ear toward his voice. “I won’t listen. Turn the sink on. I don’t have ear plugs, but I’ll cover my ears with my hands. That work?”

How dare he.

He’s not supposed to be understanding and kind. He’s a villain. He’s supposed to be acting villainous. I guess he didn’t readHow to Be a Bad Guy for Dummiesclosely enough. Once again showing no respect for his craft. An embarrassment to criminals everywhere.

“You’re a very bad criminal!” I tell him. The door between us is making me brave.

“I’m not a criminal.”

Uh… what?

“You’re committing several crimes at this very moment,” I say, eying theliteral chainattached to my wrist.

“Criminals are in jail,” he informs me, “and I’m not. Now, quit stallin’.”

I give the door a dirty look before turning on the sink. I run the shower too for good measure. Noise buffers settled, I use the bathroom as quickly as possible. Once I’m finished, I wash my hands, turn the water off, and face the door.

Time to leave the bathroom. I just need to turn the handle and open the door.

Totally going to do that.

Any minute now.

Aaaany minute.

I jump when Stryker speaks, telling me, in rather crude language, that he has need of the facilities. All right. I guess my minute is now.

I open the door and see no one. Confused, and maybe a little hopeful, I follow the chain to its end. Stryker is, unfortunately, still attached to the other side.

He’s sitting on the floor with his hand as close to the doorway as it could get without risk of being stepped on. He looks up at me, and we have a heart-racing moment of eye contact. I snap my eyes to my feet, making sure I don’t trip on the chain as I step out of the bathroom. This thing is a total hazard. I’ll be lucky if I make it through the night without eating it on the hardwood. I give it a good glare.

“This chain is a hazard, you know,” I sass. I regret it when he responds by standing up, shocking me into stumbling away from him and directly into said hazard. I lurch backward, and he grabs me. I squeak as he lifts me right off the floor.

“Only thing that’s a hazard around here is you.” He deposits me safely away from the gathering of chain at his feet.

I stagger at the loss of his hands but recover quickly. Can’t have him thinking I need those back. Best to limit the touchy touchy from the hot kidnapper man.

---