Page 55 of Claiming His Bunny
“I did?”
He flashes me a smile. “I have voice-altering software. I used it to emulate your voice and called in sick for you. No one will miss you today or tomorrow. After that, it’s the weekend.”
Voice-altering software sounds like something from a science fiction movie, but I don’t doubt Ethan’s words. If he says it works, it probably does, which means it’s going to take at least four days before anyone notices me missing. Four days that can either be very pleasant or very scary.
“And…after the weekend?” I ask, unsure if I even want to hear the answer. But it’s important to know if he plans to keep me locked up in his basement forever. I can put up with a lot of things, but that’s not one of them. I’d go insane in less than a week.
“That depends,” Ethan replies. To my displeasure, he doesn’t continue, but I think I got the message. My freedom depends on how well I take his dark secrets.
I take in a deep breath to center myself. “Fine then. Show me what you’ve got, Mr. DarkAndDangerous.”
“As you wish.”
Instead of going up the stairs, he leads me to a corner where the dart target stands. “Are we going to play?” I joke, trying to hide my anxiety. “Because I should warn you, my aim is terrible.”
“I’ll teach you later,” he says with another of his disarming smiles. “But now we’re going to my secret room.”
As if we’re in some action movie, he touches something on the wall behind the dart target, and an entire section of the wall opens to reveal a sturdy metallic door. He taps on a small keyboard, then presses his thumb to it, and the door whooshes open like we’re aboard a fucking spaceship.
“Wow. If you have this top-security James Bond room, why didn’t you lock me up there?” At his incredulous look, I hastily add, “Not that I want you to. It just feels like something a kidnapper would do.”
“Lock you up with all my weapons and electronics? That would hardly be smart.”
Once again, I feel like an idiot. “Right. That would be stupid.”
Ethan runs his hand through his perfectly messy hair, making it look even more perfect. “I didn’t want to lock you up at all, Kayla. Were I sure you wouldn’t try screaming for help, I’d let you wake up in the upstairs bedroom. But it’s not exactly soundproof, and while my closest neighbor is almost deaf, she’s not completely deaf. Nor is she stupid.”
Screaming for help. Why didn’t I try screaming for help? “God, I’m horrible at this.”
“You’re perfect. Come on, let me show you everything. I’ll add your prints to the door control later.”
“What? Why?” Didn’t he just say this is where he keeps his weapons?
“I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.” He tugs on my hand, and I obediently follow him to a room that looks like some sort of security center.
Computer screens line an entire wall, most of them displaying parts of the town, like feeds from traffic or security cameras. Others show a lot of text and numbers I can’t read from where I stand in the doorway. And of course, one shows my empty living room.
I shouldn’t be surprised. But hearing about it and seeing it with my own eyes is something else. “Really?” I snicker, pointing at the screen. “Why do you watch my house even after you’ve kidnapped me?”
“To make sure no one broke in.”
At first, I think he’s just teasing me, but then I remember the dead cat in my trashed car. “Adams? I haven’t seen him around.”
“I haven’t either, but he’s not the type to give up.” Ethan pulls me into a hug. “Don’t worry. If he dares to come near you again, I’ll kill him, rules be damned.”
I shouldn’t be pleased by his promise. He’s talking about murder. I should be appalled. Terrified. Not grateful. And most definitely not aroused. I clear my throat. “Rules? There are rules for killing people?”
Laughter rumbles in his chest. “If you don’t want to get caught, then yes, there are rules. I have a lot of my own rules, too, to make sure I don’t become as bad as the people I kill.”
The sliver of hope in my chest grows larger. The way Ethan talks about it, he can’t be a deranged, psychotic sadist who murders innocent people, right? He’s a good person. He must be. “Rules sound good,” I agree. “Will you explain them to me?”
“Of course, bunny. But first, I want to show you the list.”
The list. Wow. That’s not ominous at all.
Ethan guides me to a comfy office chair in front of the wall of screens. When I sit down, he reaches around me to tap on the keyboard, so I’m constantly surrounded by his masculine scent. The scent I’ve been waking up to for the past two weeks. The scent I’m already addicted to.
I rub my two operational brain cells together to produce what I hope is an intelligent question. “You said you don’t have any DNA samples here, but isn’t a list of your victims just as dangerous? It would tie you to the murders just as well, wouldn’t it?” And no, I’m not saying it because I’m worried he’ll get arrested.
