Page 5 of Creep (Vulture Hollow MC #2)

Angel

I have no idea how and when I fell asleep, but when I wake up to the sight of uneven brown rock above, terror penetrates every bone and muscle in my body.

I shift, and all of a sudden I tumble from the mattress, onto the rug-covered floor.

The dense layer of woven wool cushions my fall to a degree, but my shoulder and thigh still end up hurting as I sit with my back against the tall bed and take in the exact same view I closed my eyes to.

But when was it? Did I take a twenty-minute nap or sleep through the night? Worse yet, what if that weirdo came in once I dozed off and somehow put me to sleep for an unidentified amount of time? What if it’s been days, and he’s been watching me, smelling me… licking me?

I shudder, pulling my knees to my chest as I recall the rough first few hours of my captivity here.

As I grew certain my captor wasn’t coming back anytime soon, I threw myself into a vain search for a way out, but the only door was reinforced with steel and wouldn’t budge even when I threw my whole body weight at it.

On the upside, there’s an eco-toilet behind the green door, like the note promised, and it works surprisingly well.

I also found bottles of water, canned coffee, two jars of old-fashioned candy, and a screwdriver I plan to use as my weapon, if push comes to shove.

It does seem that this place is really my abductor’s home, not a cell created to house me after he spent two years stalking me.

Which does make me think he only took me with him because I witnessed the murder.

As awful as that is, it promises wiggle room.

Were he a ruthless psycho, he would have killed me already.

Of course, he could just be a ruthless psycho who happens to have a sweet spot for licking my cum, which would then not bode well.

But if the abduction, and even killing Adam was not something he’d meticulously planned, then the only logical conclusion is that he attacked Adam to… protect me? After all, he must have heard what was going on from under the bed.

Why the fuck was he there in the first place though, remains a mystery.

Maybe now that I’ve gotten some sleep in, I’ll be able to find a way to escape that didn’t occur to me last night? If this is his home, then it won’t be locked the way a cell would be.

My soul longs for my tarot deck with cards worn at the edges and yellowed from age, but it’s probably still in my bag, which I left on the table as soon as I reached home.

Goddamn it.

I touch my necklace, which miraculously still sits around my neck.

It’s brass on a leather tie, with several small crystals embedded on symbolic planetary rings.

I got it from the owner of the Celestial Cavern, who claimed someone lost it in her store over a year prior.

One of the best gifts I ever got, and I treat it as my good-luck charm.

If I still have it on me… maybe there’s a chance my life isn’t headed for a tragic end?

On the table where I found the letter last night awaits me an entire breakfast spread, including boiled eggs that are still warm and a thermos of fresh coffee that smells divine.

I could of course be about to bite into a poisoned croissant, but my captor surely wouldn’t go through all the trouble of kidnapping me just to kill me in such a hands-off way.

I know he’s got it in him to snap someone’s neck…

I lose my appetite when I recall the blood on his face, the lamp turning Adam’s head to mush with every blow.

But then the smell of fresh toast hits me, and I regain my appetite.

Adam was a shit stain. He got what he deserved, didn’t he?

I make a mental note to tell my captor I don’t eat red meat when I spot the bacon, but I’m very happy to put lashings of maple syrup over my pancakes.

The amount of food does make me wonder whether I’m being fattened up for slaughter, but joke’s on him, I've got the metabolism of a hummingbird.

The food looks homemade. Did he cook it for me himself? There’s no space for a kitchen here, that’s for sure.

Invigorated by my breakfast, I go on to scream for help. I yell into crevices, I stomp my feet. Though I’m careful not to damage anything, since I don’t want to risk him taking revenge on me for it.

When I decide that it doesn’t seem anyone can hear me, I have brunch and soothe my poor throat with more coffee. My outlook is bleak, but I can’t sit and do nothing, so I move on to browsing through his stuff.

He really does have many books, most of them old, likely purchased at secondhand stores, and with nothing else to do with my time, I browse through the small library with growing wonder.

Colorful notes stick out from between the pages, covered in annotations about the plot and characters.

Apparently, being a devout reader doesn’t interfere with being a violent murderer.

The book resting by the armchair, Kargle’s Revenge , seems to be new, and inside I find a library stamp, which at least gives me an idea of where I am, because Joy Creek is a town I’ve passed through a few times.

With nothing else to do, I end up reading the whole novel in the yellow glow of a battery-powered lamp. I’m afraid of the darkness that will surely come once it runs out of juice, but for now I try to redirect my thoughts and calm down.

The book does help, but it’s not very good, and my thoughts often drift off to the pale man with messy hair and the eyes of a predator, black like two beetles. If he’s only brought me here because I’m a witness, we should be able to negotiate.

And if I’m to leave this place in one piece, it needs to be soon, because I’m seeing Domino on Sunday.

While I’m not looking forward to it in the slightest, he’s not a man to be toyed with.

I won’t be able to tell him what really happened, and no excuse will be good enough.

My stomach clenches when I think about him.

Why, oh why did I get drawn into an arrangement with a man who’s the road captain of a motorcycle gang called Hell’s Butchers ?

You’d think it would give me a hint that he’s bad news.

But at the time he showered me with cash, didn’t demand anything too crazy other than complete secrecy, and the permission to call me names.

By the time he showed his true colors, it was too late for me to back out without putting my safety at risk.

He had me trapped for months. Of course, now I’m also literally trapped in this dungeon, but if getting out of the caves means running straight back into Domino’s clutches, then maybe I’d rather stay.

At least that way, I wouldn’t risk that he’ll murder me to ensure no one ever finds out he likes to fuck boys when nobody’s watching.

I spend some more time exploring my eerily comfortable prison, but without a chance to see what’s happening outside, I’m starting to feel confused about the passage of time.

It could have been hours since my captor brought me here, and once I start feeling grit under my eyelids, I listen to my body.

I eat food left for me, then wipe myself with a damp cloth, and settle on the bed.

I don’t think I could fall asleep knowing that the stranger could be back at any moment, but it feels good to stretch out on a mattress so much comfier than the old, dipped thing I have in my own bed.

I slide the screwdriver up my sleeve, in case I need to protect myself, and close my eyes, wondering if I should keep the light on.

Of course, I could just switch off the lamp, but the thought of being in complete darkness down in this hole somewhere inside a mountain has my heart racing.

I’ve had trouble sleeping since childhood, but when I imagine spending my whole life here, like that spider in the terrarium, the world feels like it might shatter around me at any moment.

I’m still on the fence about what to do when the gentlest, quietest clang makes my body stiffen in alarm.

Because he’s here.

My captor has returned!