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Probably not, though. Nash Bell did nothing halfway.
“Nash?” I called again, stepping out into the living room.
It was empty. His little sleeping nest on the couch was tidied up, and there was a note on the coffee table.
Went for a run. Order some breakfast. I’m still hard from your show last night. Nash.
I turned bright red at that last line.
God, what was I doing to myself? This whole thing was crazy, and I was just making it so much worse by throwing myself at him. I knew what he thought of me. I knew I was just a way for him to look good in public, a way for him to get back into the good graces of his superiors. He wanted to go back out into the desert and fight terrorists, and he thought I could help him achieve that goal.
I was nothing more to him than that. I needed to keep reminding myself of that, or else risk getting hurt when he finally did disappear.
I flopped down on the couch with a huge sigh. I grabbed the phone and ordered a quick breakfast, guessing that Nash would want some bacon and eggs when he got back. I hung up and absently stared at the television, flipping through the channels.
I felt like death. I hadn’t gotten that drunk in a long time, not since freshman year. I was hungover and embarrassed and confused and upset, and really just stewing in my own suck. In my mind, that morning couldn’t get any worse.
And then there was a knock at the door.
I stood up, feeling like crap, head pounding. The room service had come really fast, or maybe it was Livy. “Coming,” I called out.
I pulled the door open and stopped in my tracks. Standing there was a short man, about my height but very muscular. He was bald and was wearing camouflage cargo pants and a black button-down shirt. He smiled at me.
“Hi, Selena,” he said.
“Uh, hi,” I answered. “Do I know you?”
“I’m here to see Nash.”
“He’s not here. Who are you again?”
“Just a friend.” He looked inside. “Nash, are you in there?”
“I said he’s not here,” I said, getting annoyed.
“Liar.” Suddenly he pushed me back. I stumbled and nearly fell over, and he was quickly on top of me.
I tried to scream, but his hand was over my mouth. He kicked the door shut. “Don’t scream,” he said, “or this will get worse. Where is Nash?”
I tried to answer but couldn’t. I stopped struggling. “I’m going to move my hand,” he said.
He moved it slowly.
“Help!” I screamed, and instantly he clamped it back over my mouth.
“Dumb bitch,” he said. He dragged me back into the bedroom. He found a pair of my panties on the ground and grabbed them. He moved his hand and shoved the panties into my mouth, punching me in the gut.
I fell onto my knees and felt like I was going to throw up again. He was on me then, shoving me to the ground. He pulled some duct tape from one of the pockets in his pants and wrapped it around my face and then around my hands.
“There we go,” he said, standing back. My hands were taped behind my back and the panties were taped inside my mouth. “That’s better.”
He grabbed me roughly and dragged me back into the main room. He pushed me down onto a chair and taped my ankles together.
“Selena, Selena, Selena,” he said, smiling. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
I stared at him, confused. I didn’t recognize him, had never seen him before. He was acting like he knew Nash, but I couldn’t imagine that someone who knew Nash would do this to me. Nash had never mentioned any friends, anyway.
No, this man was someone else. I had no clue what he wanted, but I was terrified.
“Blink once if Nash is coming back soon, twice if you don’t know,” he asked.
I blinked twice.
He grunted. “Stupid fucking girl. I never understood what he saw in you. Nash, my man, was living the fucking life.” He looked around the room, rooting through Nash’s stuff.
“Look at this,” he said, finding the note. “Out for a run.” He grinned at me. “So our boy will be back soon then.”
He tossed the note aside and reached into another pocket. He pulled out a gun and I nearly fell off the chair, trying to scream.
“Calm down,” he said. “This isn’t for you. It’s for Nash.”
He sighed, admiring the weapon. “Nash is such a popular guy now. I loved him back before he was famous, you know? The guy is a fucking legend in the military world.” He walked over toward me and touched my face. I recoiled in terror and disgust.
“Most of the stuff in his book is a lie,” he said. “Did you know that? Well, not a lie, but all the details are made up. Nash was a pretty serious special ops kind of guy, and you can’t have that sort of information out in the public.” He began rooting through the stuff in the room.
