Page 14 of Oh No, My Kidnapper Is Hot!

“Breakfast?”

“Oh! We forgot to bring it in!” She turns to Baz. “Could you grab it? I had it on the porch, but I think I set it down when I was looking in the window.” The last part she directs at me. I nod, more than a little shell-shocked. She smiles, all straight white teeth and chaos.

She pulls me to the stools facing the kitchen while Baz moves to retrieve our food. Stryker follows us, taking the seat to my right when Heidi sits on my left.

Baz returns, taking the open seat on the other side of Heidi and setting a large Christmas gift bag on the counter in front of us. I’m eye to eye with Santa Claus. I close my eyes. Reopen them. Santa is still there.

“Rosie made burritos! Sal taught her how last week, and now she can’t stop making them. Lucky us, huh?” Heidi asks at half a step below a yell. She digs into the bag with more enthusiasm than I showed over anything all last year, then passes out the burritos. She gives two each to Stryker and Baz, plops one down in front of me, and grabs one for herself.

I stare at mine. Look at Stryker’s next to me. Give a glance to Baz and Heidi’s.

There’s no way.

Each burrito is the size of a newborn baby. I’m supposed to eat all this? How?

I watch in terrified awe as Stryker takes a bite that decimates a quarter of one of his infants. On my other side, Heidi is digging into hers with more reasonably sized bites, and Baz is already halfway through his first one. I turn back to mine. Hesitantly, I lift it and take a bite.

Oh. Ohhh.

I might need another. This isgood. I haven’t had home-cooked food in forever, but I don’t remember it ever tasting so delicious. I might consider buying into Stryker’s whole assassin gig if it gets me more meals like this. A few days here wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

I chomp on my burrito, getting halfway through it before I notice that the room has gone quiet.

I freeze.

Slowly, I turn my head to the right. Stryker’s watching me, his thick brows pulled together and his jaw clenched. Uh oh. What did I do now? Was I not supposed to eat? I set my food down quickly, my heart racing. It doesn’t improve his mood. If anything, he looks even more displeased.

“When’s the last time you ate, Millie?” he asks. His voice is gravelly, barely containing his mood. I’m confused.

“Uh…” I give it some thought. “Yesterday morning maybe? I had some food at the diner.” Gotta love those free shift meals.

“You didn’t eat lunch? Dinner?” he asks. Is he for real? This is what he’s mad about?

“I was a little busy being kidnapped at the time,” I tell him, annoyed.

“I didn’t grab you until eight, well after when you normally have dinner,” he snaps. Uh,what?

“How would you know that?” I squeak. He ignores me.

“Basil,” he barks over my shoulder. I hear Baz – Basil – grunt behind me. “Key.”

I perk up, and my head whips around just in time to catch Baz pull a long necklace out of his shirt and lift it over his head. There’s a small silver key dangling from the end. I zero in on it. That key is freedom.

Baz tosses it to Stryker over mine and Heidi’s heads. I make a grab for it, but Stryker swats my hands away and grabs it for himself. He quickly unlocks his cuff – fending off my attempts to get the key with a more ease than I’d like to admit. Once he has his cuff off, he slides the necklace over his own head and tucks it into his shirt. He throws his end of the chained handcuffs behind my back to Baz, who clicks it onto his wrist without hesitation.

Great. Now I’m bound to a brand-new large, grumpy man. I deflate.

I look longingly toward Stryker’s chest, where the bump of the key is visible beneath his shirt. I guess there is one bit of good to come of this. Now that I know where it is, I can make a plan to get it for myself. That’s not nothing. That’s really quite something, actually.

My eyes and thoughts on the key – and my freedom – I tune out much of Stryker speaking.

“–better be unharmed and well. Make sure she eats,” he’ssaying when I tune back in. What am I, a cat he needs to leave with care instructions? Offensive! I don’t get a chance to tell him how offensive because in the time it takes me to inhale, he’s grabbed his second burrito and is out the door. In his pajamas. And bare feet. Ew.

“This is going to be so fun!” Heidi proclaims. I look at her. She appears completely unfazed by Stryker’s attitude and lack of appropriate footwear.

“Fun?” I ask. Do I want to know what these people’s idea of fun is? If kidnappings and the transfer of prisoners are status quo, I think not.

“Definitely! Do you want to watchMiraculous?” she asks me.

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