Page 56 of Sinister Games

It was too soon. I barely knew him and quite frankly he kind of scared the hell out of me, but there was no denying I was in love with the man.

He was handsome, intelligent, cultured, and exciting. The way he just screamed arrogance and power, as if the whole world was expected to bow at his feet, myself included, was a huge turn-on for me.

And his penchant for games, which didn’t just nudge but shoved me out of my comfort zone, those were half of his appeal. My life had been boring and routine before him. Now it was thrilling and scary.

He was a roller-coaster ride. That was it! A roller-coaster ride. One minute you were screaming in fear, the next in joy, and the next you were eagerly anticipating the drop. It was a strange kind of exhilarating fear. You both hated and loved the feeling all at once. That was what it was like to be with a man like Richard. Anticipating the sharp drop, which was then quickly followed by a frenetic rush around a bend only to calm before the next drop. No matter how frightening it got, the moment you got off you wanted to hop back on and do it all over again.

But I had to ask myself, did loving him mean I had to surrender everything to him? Something told me what Richard’s answer would be, but what was mine?

Maybe insisting on going to school and pushing it a little further and insisting on auditioning for that play was a way to still keep some of my independence. My way of making sure he didn’t swallow me whole. I had a feeling being with a man like Richard, it would be very easy to lose yourself and just become consumed by everything that was him. What he wanted, needed, and demanded of you, becoming the center of your world.

Did I want that for myself?

As I stood there in indecision, a woman approached from the right. She was stunning. With shoulder-length, icy blonde hair and wearing a Max Mara trench coat and Gucci boots, I assumed she was a fashion designer visiting the school or perhaps a model coming in for a fitting. As she got closer, I figured she was going to ask directions to a particular building or classroom so it came as a great shock when she hauled off and slapped me across the face.

Crying out, my hand went my sore cheek.

“What the hell?” I yelled as I started to back away.

“Bitch. You think you can take him from me?”

Frantically looking left to right, I searched for help but the small side street was mostly empty since all the students had raced into the building to make the start of the next class.

Holding up my hand to try to ward her off, I exclaimed, “Look. I think there is some mistake.”

“He’s mine. Mine!” she raged as her fingers curled into claws. She lunged at me.

Holding up my bag to block her, I didn’t see the men approach till they hauled her off me.

Looking around, I saw we were surrounded by five men. Some in suits, others in regular street clothes. Two of them had the strange woman by the shoulders and were dragging her away. Spit flew from her mouth as she screamed, “Stupid bitch!”

My cheek throbbed as I opened my mouth and moved my jaw from side to side.

The woman continued to scream as the men struggled to keep her restrained. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you. No one tosses me aside. Do you hear me, bitch? He’ll be back!” The mysterious men pushed her into a car but not before she yelled, “You don’t deserve him!”

As I was testing to see if my jaw was broken and trying to make sense of what just happened, a hand closed around my upper arm. Closing my eyes, I braced for the glare of a pair of angry blue eyes.

“You need to come with me,” said an unfamiliar voice.

My eyes flew open. One of the men in suits was towering over me, not Richard. I pulled at my arm, but his grip stayed firm.

“Get off me!”

A black sedan screeched up to the curb and the man began to drag me toward the car as another man in regular clothes opened the back door.

“Get off me! Let me go! Help!” Dragging my feet, I pummeled him around the head and shoulders with my bag till someone ripped it from my hand.

“Get in the car.” He grabbed at both my elbows, pulling my arms painfully back.

“No! Get off me!” Desperately, I kicked out as I was then lifted around the waist and shoved into the back seat.

“Careful! We’ll catch hell if we don’t bring her in unmarked,” called one of the men in regular clothes to the man in the suit who was manhandling me.

What?

The door slammed shut in my face. Yanking on the handle, I continued to scream and shout, “Let me out of here! Help! Help!” Sliding to the other side, I tried the driver’s side door. It was also securely locked.

Turning to accost the driver, I realized there was a solid black divider between the back and front seat. Just because I couldn’t see him didn’t mean the driver wasn’t there. Curling my hands into fists, I pounded on the glass. “This is kidnapping! Let me go!”

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