Page 97 of Bound By Temptation

He lied. Of course, he lied.

I should’ve known it. I was that stupid girl from the slasher flicks.

My hope was so high he’d leave, but it was false.

Before I locked the deadbolt, the door was kicked from the outside, splintering down the middle, and the damn chain lock just hung there with the door dangling. Great use of something that was supposed to “protect” me.

“Blaine!” I screamed as he dove for me, and I took off running. My bedroom had a lock. A flimsy one, but a lock nonetheless. I needed to get to it. Or the bathroom. It had one too.

But my phone was in the bedroom. I needed my phone because the alarm panel which I didn’t set was on the opposite side of the room, and there was no way I’d be able to hit the panic button.

He grabbed the back of the flimsy tank I wore to bed and wrapped his arms around me tight.

Rage filled me.

This could not be happening again. This just wasn’t. No one should go through this shit once, let alone twice. And here it was. Staring me in the face.

I fought. Lord, did I fight. Kicking. Punching. Scratching. Elbowing. Biting. Any part of his body I could get to, I fought.

“Fucking bitch,” he growled and touched something to me, and everything went black.

I woke in a black space that was clearly moving. When I bumped up and down, I knew I was in a vehicle. A trunk. I was in a damn trunk.

Blaine.

Shit. Blaine had me.

He said he wanted to talk, but this wasn’t talking. This was kidnapping.

No. I wasn’t going to allow this.

Reaching around the space, I could feel the hood of the trunk. Searching I noted the damn thing was very clean. Why couldn’t it be like my trunk with everything and anything in it. I needed something hard.

Clean carpet. Not even a damn tissue.

Knocking on the floor it sounded hallow, which meant it was where the spare tire was. Maybe, just maybe, there was a jack or tire iron. Something.

No one would ever tell you when you’re in a trunk it was next to impossible to lift up the plastic let alone reach inside of it.

I could feel my fingertips being sliced on something but continued to bend the corner of the plastic. Light would be great about now, but it wasn’t an option.

Strength training. When I got out of this damn trunk, I was going to the gym to lift weights or whatever so this would be easier.

The car bumped and stopped and started several times knocking me around the space.

What were those people called that could move their bodies in weird ways? A contortionist. Yes. That was what I needed to be.

Getting the corner up, I reached around and felt the tire, but nothing else.

Where would the tire iron be? For the love of everything holy, please tell me it wasn’t underneath the tire. I wasn’t sure that would be an option. The space was so small, and the opening I made to the hidden compartment wasn’t huge, but that plastic was so hard.

I flew to the side and tumbled when the car made a sharp turn, hitting every part of my body. It hurt. My side got the brunt of it. How I had no clue.

Feeling around, I went back to the plastic and began working again.

Light from the lip of the trunk came in, telling me someone was behind us. Not that I could open the trunk and get help.

Shit, this was not good.

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