Page 47

My thoughts are scattered. I walk around the building, my mind focused on what Uri did, trying to discover what else he engineered to steer my life the way he wanted.

Did he force that college professor of physics, Dr. Fassenberg, to revisit my paper the time I failed his exam?

I’ve always found it odd how quickly the professor reconsidered after he vehemently turned down my plea.

Did Uri have something to do with the cute neighbor who used to live in my building and his sudden move, two days after inviting me over for coffee?

How about Trent? No, he barely recognized Uri when he saw him at the university.

But maybe Uri worked his schemes behind the curtain.

Trent, too, suddenly moved to another city.

We did lose contact before that, though.

Holy hell! I can’t overanalyze every single event in my life, I’ll turn mad.

I already knew quite well how controlling and determined Uri is.

He held me steady when I was weak, unstable, and faltering.

He reassured me when doubts overwhelmed me and stayed with me when I didn’t want to be alone.

I’ve always felt that what I received from him was greater than what I gave him.

But I was unaware how far overboard he went.

I’m such a doormat.

I suddenly lose my balance as a heavy body shoves me against a wall. I hit the side of my head hard, and for a moment, I only see a white light. The pain wakes up all my pleasure cells until I hear a growly male voice. It's like a cold shower putting off all the flames.

“Don’t fucking move,” the stranger whispers in my ear.

I yell at the top of my lungs, but the hard slap I get from the man stops my screaming voice, forcing the side of my head against the wall again. My brain quickly processes the slap, and agonizing pain erupts over my cheek. The throb is somehow pleasant, but the fear overcomes any other sensation.

When I open my eyes again, I get my first sight of the guy.

Bald, big, scarred. I stand no chance against him, a man twice my size pointing a gun at me.

Still, a few bruises are nothing in comparison to what other horror surely awaits me as he drags me toward a black car.

I survived all those years of imprisonment alone, and I promised myself that I’d never let anybody else cage me without a fight.

He shoves me into the back seat as I keep screaming, kicking, clawing, and punching, twisting my body like an eel.

“Who are you?” I scream. “Let me go!”

“Make him shut up!” the driver yells as the bald guy presses the cold, hard muzzle of his gun against my aching cheek while grabbing my jaw in his massive hand.

“You little bitch, shut the fuck up!” he roars. Spits hits my face, and I clench my teeth, feeling my heart inside my throat.

What is going on? I don’t know these men. Who do they work for? What do they want with me? Kidnapping a person in daylight is risky and stupid. Were they waiting for me outside the restaurant? Why?

I let one of the questions slip out, “Where are you taking me?” I hate how my voice breaks.

“I told you to keep him quiet!” the driver barks at the bald guy, who removes the gun from my face as he replies to him.

I take that moment to pull the handle on the car door, but it’s locked, the window as well.

So I throw myself at the driver with all the ferocity of my fear…

and without a concrete plan. The car swerves before a single punch to my jaw from the bald guy pushes me back against the seat.

My world spins. My head smacks against the window, and tears stream down my cheeks.

The buildings on the side of the road pass by at alarming speed.

I open my mouth to yell, but nothing comes out.

My head rings from the hit, and pain pulses where I’ve been punched.

I can taste blood inside my mouth—my masochistic side is smirking while the rest of me wants to give back double the pain.

I close my eyes as a sudden sense of fatigue settles in, sinking deep into my limbs.

Uri’s face is the last thing I think about before blackness descends; I try hard to fight it and fail.

The first thing I feel is that my mind is here, but my body isn’t.

Weird. Then the sensation in my legs registers.

My torso. Crap, my head hurts. It takes me a little longer to swim back to the surface.

I blink my eyes open; it’s dark outside the window.

A floor lamp on the opposite side of the room illuminates my surroundings.

Colors start to pop out at me now that my vision has adjusted to the artificial light.

Wooden walls, a bed, a glass table. I’m in a bedroom.

I blink again. I’m sitting on a chair, my hands bound behind my back with a thick rope.

Given the complete lack of feeling in them, I suspect I’ve been like this for a while.

I try to twitch my fingers, which feels damn painful as blood starts flowing again.

My feet are similarly numb, I can’t feel the boots on them, but they aren’t tied.

I attempt to remember what happened, but my mind comes up blank. I twist my hands, testing the ropes. I might need to dislocate a wrist to get out of them—a trick I was forced to learn when I was imprisoned. The pain will be indescribably intense, but I need to get out of here.

A few details I’d missed start to seep into my consciousness. The silky sheets on the bed, the bottle of lube on the table, and the bloody bat leaning on the wall in the corner. The room smells sweet, vanilla sweet, which is pleasant, considering the situation.

Memories of the bald guy and the driver abruptly sneak up inside my head. I must have passed out in the car. They are not here, but that doesn’t mean they’re far away. Whoever they are. Why did they bring me here? Where is here? And what’s with the creepy porno set?

I’m not wearing my coat—they must have taken it—and I don’t have my phone.

No! I left it at the restaurant. It’s okay.

The tracker implanted behind my ear will tell my family my location and the bracelet on my wrist that I’m still alive.

Rami must have alerted Uri to my disappearance by now. I know he’ll come for me.

The ache in my head increases. I still need to do something. I can’t just wait for my brothers to find me. I’m strong and capable—I’m the son of Linda and Meg, the bravest and most badass women I’ve ever met.

Taking a deep breath, I count to three and twist. A crack and then searing pain envelops my left wrist. I stifle a piercing scream by gritting my teeth, letting a few seconds go by before I slide my hand out the rope.

Now for the worst part. I need to reset the joint.

A sharp tug, and this time, I’m unable to keep a low whimper inside.

The cold shiver down my body is replaced by a blazing, scorchingly, agonizing sensation. Sweat beads over my lip as I gasp, and my eyes roll back. My fingers tighten around the rope until I feel it biting into my palm, praying that it will keep me focused and prevent me from passing out again.

I don’t know how much time passes. My wrist throbs, but I’m free. I have the rope in one hand as I touch the side of my neck behind my ear with the other. I feel the little bump where the tracker is, unscathed. Thank Goddess. Still, I better prepare myself for the worst.

Voices reach the room, distant, barely audible over the pounding of my heart and jarring breaths.

I slowly stand up, shaking my weak legs before going to the door, I place an ear on the wooden surface and listen.

Men’s voices again, footsteps moving away and then a door closing.

As I expected the handle doesn’t move, the door is locked, the window as well.

I could use the bat to break the glass, but the strong noise could attract undesired attention.

Same thing for the door. Now I regret not letting Ren teach me how to pick locks.

I look around the room for something to use as a weapon.

I find a pair of scissors in the small nightstand drawer among condoms, huge dildos, and other disturbing sex implements.

I grab the scissors and hurriedly go back to the chair.

I push my hands behind my back to hide the weapon and the loose rope, waiting for my kidnappers to show.

I’m not defenseless anymore, but my muscles ache from the unnatural position, and the acrid, bitter scent of fear is heavy inside my nostrils.

I feel the warning of a panic attack just before the drowning sensation hits me.

Goosebumps rise on my arms, and I start shivering.

My sight turns blurry as terror constricts my chest and worms its way into me, clawing at my insides.

My body is frozen as I fight to get some air in. Am I really going to die here?

Uri’s face is again in front of my eyes.

His soothing whispers, confident gaze, and warm lips.

I whimper, desperate to move, but my body doesn’t want to cooperate.

Stay with me , Uri’s baritone voice echoes inside my mind.

You know this feeling. It’s terrifying. It feels like death but not.

Let yourself breathe. Let yourself…be. You can’t give up; it’s not your choice to make. I won’t let you.

Tears run free as a strange sense of calm overcomes me, washing away the suffocating panic.

I suck in air, feeling it fill my lungs to maximum capacity.

My eyes open as the sun starts peaking on the horizon.

I curl my fingers around the scissors and the rope, relieved to feel them still in my hands.

I hear voices again; they sound a little closer now but they are coming from my left now.

There’s multiple people out there, what if they come in here all together?

A loud bang, bang followed by two heavy thuds and another bang makes me jump in the chair. Gun shots.