Page 5

I let his legs flop out of the vehicle and angle him so his ass hits the trolley. I place him down gently, making sure his head isn’t gonna hit any overgrown bushes on the way up to the house. It’s the first time I’m grateful for no porch—I hop the trolley over the lip of the entryway and pull him through the hallway, just like I’d practiced last night.

I reach the door to the basement and brace myself for the next phase.

Call me a genie and marvel at my magic carpet. This bad boy helps me transport this hunk of muscle down a flight of stairs with no obvious injuries, and I only hit his head once—obviously not on purpose. But with no lasting damage, I pull his legs up onto the mattress I prepared and roll him over.

As unseemly as it is, you can’t have an angry murderer wandering around your basement. When considering whether you should chain someone to your heating pipe, it’s always better to err on the side of caution. One huge prison-style chain later, and his hands are connected loosely to his stomach with enough room that he could, well, alleviate himself without his pee flying round like a hose pipe, and he could, at a stretch, use his hands to eat. I’ve left some hand sanitizer so he can swap between both tasks with clean hands.

Unfortunately, wrapping the chain around his body has been a little tricky, and I did have to balance his head on my chest as I wrapped my arms around him. Despite being the most despicable man on the planet, he smells heavenly. And when he sighed deeply, face on tit, his warm breath cascaded down my crop top making my nipples ache.

I’m absolutely not attracted to him. I mean, I can see the appeal, of course; I’m not blind, or nose blind, or deaf—he has quite a lovely voice as well, in all honesty. But he is an awful person, dead set on being the villain in this situation. Andyes, that is said without a trace of irony, as I do appreciate he’s the one who’s chained up in my basement.

I gently place him back onto the pillow and pull the blanket over him. I don’t want him to think I’m an animal. I don’t actually want to hurt him. Just maybe scare him enough that he will set my brother free the moment he wakes up. Speaking of which, he should be waking up in a few minutes.

Okay, deep breath, the hard part is done. Getting his big ass down the stairs and tied up. Now, it's just a negotiation, and I do those all the time.

I look around the basement. The light is shining through the small window on the north side of the house. It isn’t large by any means, but there’s a lamp I’ve placed close to his bed, which he could use if he needs more light.

The space is pretty empty, except for a big storage rack filled with equipment for my business. I’d made sure his chains were short enough that he couldn’t reach anything else in the room, but honestly, what was he going to do? Throw a yoga mat at me?

And that brings me to my actual real-life can-you-believe-it day job. I work as a fitness instructor posting exerciseroutines online, creating videos to inspire others to get fit and take on new challenges. My channel is growing, but I have done well over the last few years to build a strong following online. I am starting to see the benefits of my hard work with sponsors, ads, and companies contacting me to review and promote their products.

The basement was meant to be a studio space to create videos, complete workout sessions, and store old equipment when it wasn’t in use. Danny had been building me the space when he was in high school, but since he’d started working for Sleeping Beauty over there, he hasn’t had the time.

Austin stirs, and a low grumble reverberates from his throat. He tries to pull his hands up to his face, but the clink of metal halts his movement.

My heart thumps against my ribs. The reality of the situation is starting to sink in. My body is acting like I’ve been trying to bench press one hundred kilos rather than thirty.

What the fuck have I done?

Visions of me being hauled out of my house in handcuffs, headlines like “Wannabe Fitness Influencer Kidnaps Beautiful Man” scan across the back of my eyes. I wish I could say I didn’t mean to do this. But who can say they accidentally chloroformed and kidnapped somebody?Sorry, your honor, he slipped on the cloth and then fell into my basement. Oh, the chains? Well, I didn’t know who he was, so I thought I’d take a precautionary measure.

His snuffles get a little louder, and I step away from him. Maybe I could gauge his reaction in the shadows first before revealing myself. My eyes fix on him as his strong, long fingers run over the length of chains. His strength is clearly returning. His body movements suggest he is assessing his situation, tugging on the chains, his head moving around to look for anything familiar...to look for me.

“Hello?” his gravelly voice calls out.

“Err, hi.”

He strains his neck around, and I give him a small wavefrom my corner. Attempting to sit up, his head swirls, and he flops back down onto the pillow.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“You’re probably still a bit groggy from the . . . well, the . . . you know . . . stuff.”

“Stuff?” he repeats, turning to look at me once again, this time with more success.

“Yes, the um, well, the cloth with the...you know...” I draw my empty hand up to my mouth and take a big inhale before rolling my eyes back and pretending to pass out.

He frowns, confused, obviously. I am acting like a lunatic.

“I’m still asleep,” he mutters, moving his neck back to a normal position and closing his eyes. “I’ll wake up in a minute, and I won’t have helped the crazy girl at the fucking juice bar.”

“Uh, rude. I’m not crazy,” I snip, stepping out of my corner.

“Sure you’re not, imaginary person in my head.”

“Why would you be dreaming about me?” My heart rate picks up as I remember the few times I’ve caught his eye at Squeeze the Day. Hunger is the name I would give the looks he gave me. Like he’s dying for a treat that doesn’t contain seeds or some sort of vegetable in it, like what Jenny offers at the juice bar. Something that no food could satisfy.

“I always dream about...” he stops mid-way through a breathy sentence and lets out a rip-roaring snore.