Page 12 of My Captive's Heart
Thud.
The ceiling creaks rhythmically.
“Fuck!”
He knows I’m up. The lights didn’t go off because of a power cut.
He did it.
Am I being watched?
Without any self-preservation—it’s on a hiatus, anyway—or plan, I run up the stairs before he can find me and trap me in the bedroom. I trip twice on my way up, but I don’t slow down.
It’s a life-or-death situation.
I’m only interested in the former.
Shoving open the wooden door at the top, I enter straight into an open-space living room slash kitchen and dining area. My captor is loaded, judging by the opulence of the place. The entire length of the room is made up of a floor-to-ceiling glass wall.
Outside in the distance, I see a highway and tall, lush trees kissing the starry and moonlit sky.
Seeing the black double doors to the side, I race toward them. Just as I touch the brass knuckle, a deeply masculine voice announces from behind me, “It’s locked.”
The tone sounds vaguely familiar. However, my fight-or-flight response is fueling my senses.
Refusing to believe him, I turn the knob. Only to deflate when it doesn’t budge. Fear like never before slithers down my spine, making me stumble to the side along the glass wall. My petrified face reflects back at me. Somehow, still aglow from the orgasm my abductor gave me.
A movement at the back of the room steals my attention.
The tall, menacing figure emerges from the shadows.
My mouth hangs open.
My captor stalks closer.
“M-Mr. Smith?”
As silent and lethal as a hunter, my boyfriend’s father keeps sauntering to where I’m standing against the glass wall. My instincts tell me to run. But my feet are rooted to the marbled floor.
I’m so lost, unable to put the pieces together.
Unable to decide if I’m safe or in danger.
Am I kidnapped or not?
Was it really Matt after all? Did he leave me with his dad and go out? Did he decide to cut our fantasy short? Why the heck would he drug me then?
Or… Was the masked man Mr. Smith?
He stops behind my back, towering over my petite body. Lifting his corded arms, he cages me against the wall with his palms on either side of my head.
Our gazes collide.
A predator and his prey.
A captor and his captive.
The truth hits me like a freight train.
