Page 36 of Chicago Sin

Stop making lemonade out of lemons. I am the definition of Stockholm Syndrome right now.

I climb in and pull the covers up to my waist. “Can I have my phone back? If someone called or texted, they’re going to think it’s weird if I don’t answer.”

Armando scrubs a hand across his face. “I’ll check it.”

I’m deflated, not because I need my phone but because I’m not getting anywhere with him trusting me. I watch him retrieve my purse from one of the cabinets—I guess he hid it from me there—and pull out my phone. He looks at it. “What’s your passcode?”

I hold out my hand for it, but he doesn’t move. Damn him. I’m going to lose any battle of wills here—I’m way too flexible a person. “Five-five-five-five.”

“Lucky fives, huh?” He punches it in and looks at the screen. “No messages.”

His phone rings. He pulls it out of his back pocket and looks at the screen. “Hey.”

He listens. “Tonight? Fuck.” His shoulders sag, and he looks across the apartment at me. “I’m trying to lay low.” He listens some more. “Yeah, I gotcha. No, no, I’ll do it. I’ll be there. In an hour. ‘Kay.” He ends the call and shoves the phone back in his pocket, then he gives me a long, appraising look.

The hairs stand up on my arms. “What?”

He marches over to my dresser and starts pulling open drawers.

“What are you doing? What do you need? Just tell me, asshole.”

He looks over at me and shakes his head. “Don’t call me names, Flowers.” He opens my sock drawer and pulls out a pair of tights.

“What are you doing?” Alarms are going off like crazy, but stupid me, I’m still playing like this guy’s my date. Later I will wonder why I didn’t fight him. Didn’t run.

He crosses swiftly to the side of the bed and picks up my wrists and starts wrapping the tights around them. “I have to go out. I can’t take you with me.”

“What? No!” Even now, I don’t fight much. I’m still relying on my ability to persuade him to change his mind. The guy has a conscience, I know that much.

He knots the tights and wraps the end around the bedpost.

“No! You can’t leave me here like this. What if there’s a fire? I will die because I can’t get out. Armando!”

He ignores me and goes back to the kitchen area rummaging through the drawers. When he returns with a roll of duct tape I really freak out.

I kick out at him in a panic, yanking at my wrists to get free. “No! You’re not putting that on me!”

Shadow, picking up the energy, races around the room and then under the bed.

Armando rips off a piece. I turn my face away.

“Don’t!” I shout. “I am never having sex with you again. I swear to God.”

“I understand.” He slaps the tape over my mouth. I scream against the constraint. I have to take crazy snorting breaths through my nose because I’m crying.

“Shhh.” He caresses the side of my head.

I yank away.

He crouches beside the bed face level with me. I’m hyperventilating through my nose. “Take it easy, Flowers. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I shake my head frantically.

“I’m sorry. The other options would be worse, I promise.”

Tears flood my eyes. I’m so pissed, I want to headbutt him. Too bad he’s out of reach.

“I’m gonna take your van, so I can get back quickly. Just go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”