Page 11 of The Bodyguard Undone

I glance at the metal bands on my wrists. I remember the one around her neck. My hands fist into balls of steel and I barely stop myself from pounding the stone, imagining it’s Thompson’s face, as I remember the agony in her eye when the fucking son of a bitch sent an electrical charge through her.

I taper my fury and store it away as well for when I have Thompson’s scrawny neck in my hands.

Automatically I start to scan the room, ignoring my tiredness completely. Nothing has changed since my last scan. No new ways to escape.

I give in and lay down on the slab of stone that acts as my bed.

There’s a shower in the cell. The shower head is mounted into the ceiling, the water ice cold. Without a chair, there’s no way I can reach it to try and unscrew it and use it as a means to escape. The stainless steel toilet is built into the stone as well.

My eyes drift close against my will. My mind flashes with Sophia’s smile. Her soft touch as she sighs into me. I reach out and she laughs. I grab her and crush her body to mine then lower her onto the field of daisies.

I realize I’ve taken her back to the farm in Wyoming where I was raised. Where my parents and my sisters were happy. And I was innocent.

I kiss her right there in the meadows I walked through a thousand times. She tastes like strawberries and sunshine. My mouth travels down her body. She opens for me. I can taste her. Hear her moans as she tangles my hair in her fingers, begging me to stop and begging me to never stop.

Her pretty folds part for me. I enter her and the glorious texture of her pussy hugs my shaft so tightly it’s the sweetest form of agony I have ever experienced. I want to drag myself out of her, knowing I taint her every time I come inside her. But she pulls me close. Determined and beautiful. This power she has over me makes me forget that I’m just another monster. But she’s so wet for me. Still so pure and innocent no matter all the bad, dirty ways I want to take her, possess her. She lets me.

My cock hardens even now when the rest of my body feels broken. The fluttering sensation of her pussy against my hardness is like a balm to my soul.

I drift off with the taste of her in my mouth, a taste I can summon from memory alone.

I jolt myself awake not moments later.

I’ve been in this cell for a total of one night. I judge the days by the times I receive breakfast, thick oatmeal in a polystyrene cup.

Before that, I was aware I was in a medical facility, waving in and out of consciousness, shouting to see Sophia, to know where she was until I was knocked out with a sedative again. I’m unsure of how many days passed while I was in the medical facility. I wasn’t awake when I was transported here then stripped of my clothes and one of my wrists chained to the wall.

The chances of the king of Strohamden sending out a discrete search party and finding us is too slim to think about.

I turn onto my side, flexing my hand as I look at the metal cuffs now on both my wrists.

I listen to the subtle whirring sound it makes.

I now know it’s synced with the watch on Thompson’s wrist. So is the band around Sophia’s neck.

I continue to listen, counting the rotations it makes, the electronic murmurs.

Thompson uses his watch to control the way he restrains me. After he had dropped the clothes I’m wearing into the cell, he released the clasp of the chain connecting it to the band on my wrist.

There was a moment while he’d been eating that the hum of the band had died completely against my wrist. It was at the same time he had looked at his watch, annoyance flashed across his face as he swiped his fingers across the screen once more.

I just need that to happen again.

I just need to have her in my arms again.

Chapter Five

Sophia

It’s been three days since I last saw Kayne. My anxiety and fear make me numb. I don’t know what to do. My questions and my pleas to the camera for answers go ignored. It’s almost as if Roger has vanished.

Food still arrives three times a day, pushed in through a slot in the door that shuts and seals automatically before I can stick my hand through it.

I’m not eating. The containers are piling up. I need to know if Kayne is okay. Not knowing is driving me mad with worry.

I take ice-cold showers while still wearing underwear and I feel nothing.

Roger told me it’s been a week since the explosion. A week since my family has been unable to reach me.

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