Page 36 of Straight to You

RYDER

I slowly blink, forcing my eyes open. My head throbs with a dull, rhythmic pulse, and there’s a metallic taste on my tongue.

Once again, I’m disoriented.

And once again, I’m tied to a fucking chair.

My limbs feel sluggish and unresponsive. Whatever Kyle jabbed into my neck before I blacked out is still working its way through my system—everything feels foggy.

My back aches like I’ve been stuck in this chair for hours, and my muscles are sore in ways that don’t make sense. There’s pain in my shoulders, and my ribs hurt.

How the fuck does he keep moving me?

He must be carelessly hauling my limp body around like I’m dead weight. It feels like he dragged me by the arms.

But then my nose catches a scent. It smells like food, and I realize just how hungry I am. I feel like I’ve been passed out or drugged for days.

My stomach twists, both from the scent and the brutal realization of how long it’s been since I last ate at Logan’s apartment. I don’t even know how long ago that was anymore.

A day? Two? More?

My stomach clenches painfully, a hollow, cramping reminder that I’m running on nothing. I feel weak and shaky, and so deeply uncomfortable as I notice the other sensation.

My face flushes with shame before I even register what it is.

I shift slightly, and the feeling confirms it—my jeans are damp and cold against my skin. Somewhere between being drugged and waking up here, I must’ve pissed myself, and humiliation hits me hard and fast.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hating how my body feels like it’s no longer mine and he’s stripped away every bit of control I had, right down to my basic dignity.

I force myself to hold back my emotions and figure out where I am.

It looks like a house. At first glance, anyway.

Despite it looking like a semi-normal studio apartment with furniture, lamps, and even a fucking fake plant, I’m still tied to a chair like a prisoner. And through the smell of food, I catch a hint of fresh paint.

The space seems clean and semi-nice, and that somehow makes it worse than the dark basement. It’s like he’s trying to disguise a prison as a home, and that’s when I realize what’s off about this space.

There are no windows. I can’t see a single one, and I’ve never been in a house without windows. It’s like he built this space to look lived in, but it feels more like he constructed a cage to keep us trapped in this room together.

Kyle walks over in my direction, holding a plate of food. “ Oh, good. You’re awake,” he says, as he walks closer and sets the food on the table near me.

“I figured you’d be starving,” he says, like we’re roommates or friends.

He’s right, I am starving, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction, so I clench my jaw and swallow the hunger down as best I can.

“Where the fuck are we?” I force out.

“Our new home. We needed a fresh start,” he says casually. “The basement was always temporary. I knew you wouldn’t be comfortable there forever. But this…” He gestures vaguely around the room. “This is where we really begin. I built it for you, angel. This was my construction project.”

A cold sweat breaks across my skin. Built it?

“I tried to make this place our home. I even decorated it for us. Look,” he says, pointing to a spot behind me. I try to turn my head, but I don’t even need to move that far.

There are pictures. So many pictures. A collection of photos he’s printed out of me.

Some are grainy—he must’ve taken them at the bar, while I was walking, even one from inside my house, probably from when I heard the noise in the bushes.

Others are clearly from my social media; he even has the picture from my narrator profile.

My face is everywhere—it’s something out of a nightmare.

He even photoshopped us together in some, and placed his face over Logan’s.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he muses. “I wanted this place to feel like you. We can add more pictures of us soon. I bought one of those home printers for us.”

I’m trapped in a fucking shrine to myself with a psychopath .

I force myself to breathe evenly, keeping my voice flat. “This is fucked.”

“Oh, Ryder,” he hums. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” I bite out, feeling like maybe death is the best option after all.

“Remember what I told you about the last person who fought me?” He sighs. “You remember, don’t you, angel? I thought we’d come to an agreement. I’d move you here and you’d be happy. We’d be happy together, angel.”

There’s no way I agreed to that. Even drugged out of my mind, I wouldn’t have promised something so insane. There’s no world in which I’d ever willingly agree to this.

I see him move and I freeze for a moment, worried he’s going to pull another needle, or knife, or something out of his bag, but no, it’s almost worse.

It’s a book.

One I recognize immediately, and I have an idea of where this is going.

Kyle runs his fingers along the cover. “This is where it all started.”

I say nothing.

“This is the first book I heard you read,” he murmurs, flipping it open, tracing a finger down the first page. “The book that brought us together, angel.”

I keep my expression neutral. For the first time in my life, I curse my profession, even though I know that’s not the problem.

He is.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen, angel,” he rasps. “You’re going to eat this meal I made you, and then you’re going to read this book to me.”

I stay silent again, but he must disapprove of my lack of response because he leans forward and kicks me in the shin, and I flinch back hard.

Instantly, Kyle’s voice softens. “See? I don’t want to have to do that, angel, and I won’t have to if you listen.”

“Okay,” is all I manage to say.

He stabs some of the food on the plate and feeds it to me, forkful by forkful. It feels so manipulative, but the chicken and broccoli taste incredible. I almost don’t care if he’s poisoned me again through the food, and I wake up in a new place. I’m ravenous and I need this.

“Drink,” he grunts, holding a cup of water with a straw in his hand. I try to slow down, but I chug the entire thing, and he chuckles.

“Thirsty, huh? I’ll get you some more. Don’t eat without me,” he says with a wink, like I could move.

As he turns to go, I force my throat to work. “Bathroom,” I croak.

He pauses in the doorway and looks at me like he’s considering this.

“Soon,” he decides, and disappears before I can say anything else.

After he gets back and continues feeding me until he’s satisfied with how much I’ve eaten, he dabs the corners of my mouth like he’s proud of me and there’s nothing I can do.

He hasn’t let me go to the bathroom, and he’s immediately ready to move on to the book. He picks it up and holds it open for me like it’s reading hour at the library.

“I listened to you reading every night after I first heard your voice,” Kyle admits. “Your voice was the only thing that helped me sleep.”

Jesus fucking Christ .

He lifts the book, holding it out toward me. “Read it to me, angel.”

My throat tightens, and I flinch, dragging my gaze away from the book. I don’t want to do this. Every cell in my body is screaming at me not to, but what choice do I have? Sitting here tied up, weak, and worn down, my options are limited—and Kyle doesn’t seem to handle disobedience with grace.

As much as I want to refuse, I can’t keep pissing him off.

Before I start, Kyle tilts his head, studying me. “You must be exhausted, angel. I’ll let you sit on the bed if that helps. It’s very important to me that you give this your all, Ryder. I’ll know if you don’t. I’ve listened to you hundreds of times.”

I almost laugh at the sheer insanity of that statement.

“Oh, wow,” I say dryly. “A bed? That’s so generous of you.”

“Ryder,” he scolds.

Right, Logan.

Logan, Logan, Logan.

I need to bite my tongue for Logan and hold onto hope that he’s going to find me. I have to stay alive, despite wishing I didn’t have to live through another minute of this.

My jaw tenses, and with every ounce of self-control I have, I mutter a quiet, “Fine.”

His face lights up, and he reaches for my ankles.

“Before I untie you, let me make one thing clear, angel. I am in charge here, not you. If you try anything, I will have to hurt you, and I don’t want to.

Just listen to me, that’s all you have to do.

Okay?” He waits for me to respond so I nod.

“Okay. Now, I will untie you and you will go straight over to the bed.” He speaks clearly, so there’s no misunderstanding between us.

I nod again .

“I want you safe, angel. Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

I know he’s not fucking around, but if I see an opportunity for escape, I’m going to take it. If not, I’m going to make him think he can start trusting me. It’s the only option I have left, even though the thought of doing that makes my skin crawl, but if I have to, I will.

He unties the knots at my ankles before reaching for the ones at my wrists. I force myself to stay completely still as his fingers work at the rope. The second my wrists are free, blood rushes back into them. I curl my fingers, my nails digging into my palms to keep from trembling.

He pulls me up and drags me to the bed as I stumble over my feet. “Go on, get comfortable.”

I make my way to the bed before collapsing against the pillows. I don’t feel strong enough to keep myself upright from the lack of usage of my body, so I pick up the book Kyle has selected as he settles in too close for my liking at the end of the bed, even though there are a few feet between us.

Then, without another choice, I open the first page and begin to read.