Page 62 of Oh No, My Kidnapper Is Hot!

I crawl through the window into the night, carefully closing it behind me. I crouch, waiting for the next signal.My nose is starting to go numb from the cold when the signal finally comes.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I flinch, then sprint. Going between my cabin and Stryker’s, I make sure the coast is clear before crossing the street. I reach Archie’s house and slip around to the back, where a bicycle awaits. I carefully roll it to the front of the house, sticking to the shadows. More waiting follows, during which I realize I’ve forgotten my earpiece and mic. A superspy, I am not.

While I’m scolding myself for my stupidity, another signal comes from the woods, toward the hiking trail.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Four shots. I have to be quick.

I don’t look back. I book it toward the pool house – and my baby.

I pedal hard, not worrying about being quiet. I don’t have the luxury of time. Four shots means he’s onto us. Four shots mean I might not make it.

I wish I had my earpiece so I could gauge how close he is.

Without it, I push the bike to its limits, almost losing control on the gravel as I make a sharp turn. I see the glint of neon green in front of me now, but I don’t let it make me complacent. Not when I can hear the crunch of running footsteps closing in behind me.

I lean into the bike, praying for more speed. I’m so close. A hundred feet. Seventy. Fifty. Twenty.

I jump off the bike and shove it behind me, hoping he’ll trip over it. My fingers graze the car’s door handle, and a rush of victory surges through me.

“I think fu–” No, no, no! “–ing not!”

I’m yanked from behind and lifted away from my car – from my freedom. Stryker turns me roughly, pushing meagainst her. I fight, yelling and crying and seething in anger.

My fury doesn’t touch his.

He subdues me easily, pinning me with his body and then with his hand firmly on my throat. He doesn’t squeeze, but then, he doesn’t have to. The threat alone freezes me.

I look up into his eyes, and gulp.

“This is the last time you try this sh–” Oh no, he’s back to cursing. “I mean it, Millie. The last time. I’m not livin’ without you.” He puts pressure on my throat. Not enough to restrict airflow, but enough for me to feel he’s there. I gulp again.

“You want to trust me, darlin’? Alright. I think you’ve seen I’m a man who keeps his promises. Yeah?” I give him the slightest nod, eyes wide, afraid to move. “Then I’ll make you some promises you can trust. I promise to take care of you when you’re sick. I promise to take care of you when you’re healthy. I promise to be there for you through the best days of your life and the worst. I promise to love you and cherish you until we take our last breaths and beyond.” He squeezes my throat again, then moves his hand to my hair, holding me as his voice gentles. “I promise, Millicent Christina Pomm, to be yours.” He leans his forehead against mine. Brushes our noses together. “Now, I’m not going to kiss you yet because I made a promise that I can’t go breaking now, and we’ve still got eighteen hours left, but know that I want to. I really,reallywant to.”

I’m speechless.

Did he just–

“Did you just marry me?” I wheeze, equal parts dazed and confused. He rubs our noses together again.

“I did. And I’ll do it every day, again and again if I have to, as long as youstay,” he says.

I can hardly breathe.

“You can’t – you can’tdothat,” I tell him.

“I can, and I am, and I’ll keep doing it. I’d rather die than let you go not knowing if you’ll come back to me.”

I don’t know how to cope with this. He just made promises to me. Lifelong ones.

Hemarriedme.

I shiver.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says, pulling me close and turning us toward the cabins. I let him, mildly shell-shocked. “We can talk about this where it’s warm.”

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