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Chapter Seven

Benji

Icame to with a jolt but groaned as my head pounded, my brain seeming to ricochet painfully around my skull. What the fuck did I have to drink last night? Everywhere ached and my head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton wool. What the heck was that smell? It was dank and musty. I peeled my eyes open and instantly regretted it.

Bright white light assaulted my eyeballs, and I blinked rapidly to try and bring the room into focus. Shit. This wasn’t my apartment. I didn’t know wherethiswas. I looked around but couldn’t really make anything out beyond the circle of light I was situated in. There didn’t seem to be any natural light, so maybe it was a basement? I tried to look behind me but something tight tugged on my wrists. I looked down and saw cable ties around my arms and ankles. Fuck. My heart pounded in my chest, my breaths came short and sharp. Nope. I wasn’t going to have a panic attack. Not in some crazy guy’s basement that smelt like dirty water.

“Hello!” I shouted as I pulled at my restraints, but they wouldn’t budge. “Is anyone there?”

“Welcome back.”

I flinched. Well, as much as I could considering I was tied to a chair. It was the guy from the alley, the one who was too pretty to be a psycho. Not that I could see him. I could barely see anything beyond the white light. Just shadows.

“Where am I?” I asked, my mouth dry and my words sluggish.

“What’s your name?” he replied, completely ignoring my question.

I licked my dry lips. The guy probably already knew, I’d had my wallet on me and now my jacket was nowhere to be seen. “My name is Benjamin Barrett.”

Footsteps echoed around the room as the mystery man stepped forwards out of the shadows. He was taller than I remember, or maybe that was a trick of the light, but he definitely looked taller than me and I was six foot.

He squatted in front of me, his face just as cold as I remembered. “Charlie Kent.”

Huh? “I don’t—”

“Do you know him?”

“No.” I shook my head and regretted it. “Did you drug me?”

“Yes. Do you know who I am?”

“No. Have you forgotten?”

A low growl rose from his throat. Probably wise not to antagonise the crazy guy who’d kidnapped me.

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “My thoughts don’t seem to be… organised. Wait, you drugged me?”

“Yes. I already answered that.” He cocked his head to one side, his gaze assessing.

“Why?”

“Would you have come willingly if I’d asked?”

“Probably not.”

The guy continued to study me in silence. It was weird, like he was waiting for something, or for me todosomething but what, I didn’t know. He just watched me, those impossibly blue eyes tracking every movement, hell, every frantic breath that escaped my lips. There was no doubt that I was looking at someone who was way beyond an ordinary person.

“What are you going to do with me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. He’d said he wasn’t going to kill me, but maybe that was going to be better than any alternative this guy could think of.

A long slender finger reached out and brushed a damp lock from my forehead. “I haven’t decided yet.”

I swallowed, the sound a loud gulp in the empty room. “Who are you?”

The smile that spread across his face was unsettling. “Damyr Morozov.”

Morozov. I knew that name, but I couldn’t quite grasp why. Stupid drugs. Making everything foggy and—

Damyr traced his finger between my brows. “The drugs will wear off soon.”