Page 16 of Oh No, My Kidnapper Is Hot!

“I’m not one of you,” I tell her. “I was kidnapped. I’m a prisoner here.”

Again, I present the chain as evidence. Heidi shakes her head.

“That’s only temporary. Stryker says you can have it off as soon as you’ve adjusted, is all,” she tells me.

“Adjusted? Adjusted towhat?” I ask, already knowing I’m not going to like the answer.

“To living here,” she says. Yeah, definitely not vibingwith thatat all.

“You’re as crazy as he is,” I say, then turn to Baz. “And you too, I guess? What, you’re a cold-blooded killer also?” I roll my eyes. Baz blinks.

“I’m retired,” he says. I blink back.

“Millie, we’re not crazy,” Heidi says, drawing my attention. “I know it sounds far-fetched, but you’ll see. You have a place here, just like us. Stryker is going to protect you the way he does for the rest of us. You have friends here. It’ll be really,reallygood. I promise.” Her eyes are wide and inviting, her face open.

I don’t respond. She’s absolutely been Stockholmed, and she thinks I will be too. As nice as the picture she’s painting is, it’s just not reality. I glance at Baz, whose eyes haven’t moved from me. It’s unsettling. This entire situation is unsettling. I look at the chain connecting us and renew my resolve to get out of here as soon as I possibly can.

Heidi’s face changes as she watches me, morphing from inviting to concerned once more.

“Mill–”

The front door opens, interrupting her and startling me. I stiffen when Stryker walks in carrying two big black duffle bags. He looks rough – exhausted. At some point he changed his clothes, though I’m not sure where he got the new ones. He definitely didn’t get them from his room before he stomped off this morning. He has shoes on too, which is a vast improvement. Walking around outside barefoot is just asking for disease. I don’t need him getting sick and then gettingmesick. I have an escape to make happen, and nobody wants to run around in the forest trying to get away from a lunatic when they’ve got the sniffles, least of all me. No, thank you.

His eyes roam the living room – taking in the mess ofsnacks on the coffee table, the cartoon on the TV, Heidi, Baz, and finally me. He moves toward us, dropping his duffles on the floor as he comes. He walks around the table to my side of the couch and sits on the floor in front of me. He leans back against my legs, effectively trapping them between him and the couch, then rolls his head back to look at me.

“Good day?” he asks quietly, as if he actually cares. I shoot a look at Heidi and Baz, who appear to be exchanging dissertations with only their eyes. I don’t answer Stryker.

He sighs.

Well, what did he expect? Sure, it’s been a good day – a wonderful day, even. You know, if we ignore the fact that I’m chained and imprisoned. That part really put a damper on the whole thing. Oh, and the part where his friends are clearly as crazy as he is.

I pull a face at him, hoping it conveys my thoughts. He heaves another sigh, which I take to mean it did.

He rolls his head back down and, to all appearances, begins watching TV. I eye him.

I must be in The Twilight Zone.

Stryker laughs at something in the show, and I know for sure that I’m in an alternate universe. There’s no way this giant Adonis is laughing at a teen cartoon drama. Simply no way.

But he is.

We sit there for another hour watching the show, Baz and Heidi doing their silent communication bit the whole time, occasionally peeking at me. I ignore them.

I ignore Stryker too, leaning against me. I just sit, and I pretend to watch Ladybug and Cat Noir save Paris and protect their friends.

I sit, and I pretend, and I plot.

First, I need to get the key. Hopefully Stryker keeps it on him, and I can grab it tonight when he’s sleeping. After that, it should be fairly easy to get out of here. I can follow the gravel drive to the guard shack, and from there I just need to make it to the highway. Once I get to that point, I’m golden. I’ll flag down someone passing by, hit a police station, grab my beautiful box of a car, and zip as far away from this nightmare as my gas tank will take me. Maybe I can even make it to a beach.

“Heidi,” Stryker says, pulling her out of her titillating eye contact-only conversation with Baz.

“Yeah, boss?” she squeaks. He rolls his head on my knees to face her.

“Call Rosie and see about lunch, yeah?”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” she answers, giving him a salute. She stands from the couch and goes outside to make the call. Stryker turns his attention to Baz.

“I’ll take her back now,” he says, as if I am a kitten being given back to its owner. I huff.

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