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“Martin,” he corrects. “Martin Suggs.”
“I don’t give a good goddamn!” I slap my palm against the table. “I ain’t making babies with you or anyone else.”
An expressionless mask slides over his face, terrifying in its absence of any emotion. I’d almost welcome anger over this blank demeanor. But I’m too pissed off to stop myself.
“How do you even know I can have kids, huh? Did ya ever think of that? Never mind the fact that I don’t want ’em. And I sure as shit would never have any with some crazy asshole who kidnapped me.”
“You’re meant to fulfill your female duties.”
Outrage constricts my throat. So many retorts land on my tongue but I can’t force out a single one.
He stands and walks over to a drawer by the sink. “You’re obviously…upset. When you’re not so hysterical, we’ll discuss our future.”
“Hysterical? You haven’t seen hysterical. We don’t have a future. My future is singing and being with the man I love. Ain’t none of that got anything to do with you and whatever hell spawn you think you’re forcing on me.”
Ignoring my outburst, he slowly slides open the drawer and pulls out a small black case and a clear vial of liquid.
Fear slams against my ribcage.
He uncaps a huge needle.
“Oh, hell no.” I stand and back away from the table. “You’re not a doctor. You’re gonna end up killin’ me.” Tears sting my eyes but I refuse to let them fall.
“Hush, rabbit. I know what I’m doing. This is what’s best for you.”
I turn and run.
My boots pound over the hardwood floors. Down the dark hallway, praying like hell my guess about a door at the end is correct.
“Get back here!” he thunders.
“Fuck you!”
Panic surges over me in waves as I navigate the unfamiliar house. My head spins. Blood thunders through my ears. Fuzzies swim in front of my eyes. I blink hard to clear my vision and keep hauling ass away from my captor.
Aha. I slam into a door, yanking and twisting the metal knob. It doesn’t budge.
Damn.
Deadbolt.
I twist the lock but it still won’t open.
My terrified eyes scan the darkened area. Make a run for one of the shuttered windows? No. They could have bars or something.
I glance up.
Another lock. It’s above my reach but I jump up and slap the slide once, twice.
Finally the door opens.
To another damn door.
This one’s a screen door and I easily click the latch and fling it wide.
Not sweet freedom. A screened-in porch. With another door.
What is this? Some nightmare maze of doors to nowhere?
I stare into the inky darkness beyond the screen. A cool breeze tickles my cheek. This is it. Outside. I flick that lock and shove the flimsy metal so wide it bangs off the side of the house with a sharp metal clack.
Terrified and knowing he’s coming, I leap without looking, missing the short set of stairs and landing hard in the grass.
Run! Run! Run!
My gaze swings wildly around the unfamiliar terrain.
Dirt driveway.
White van.
I’ll be way too visible running down the driveway.
It’s dark but I think we’re surrounded by trees. I make a mad dash for the tall, looming shadows at the perimeter of the property. My legs wobble and tremble, stiff from so many hours stuffed in my trunk, but I push past the awkward sensations and haul ass.
Rooster, where are you?
A tiny spark of hope prompts me to imagine he’s close by.
“Help!” I scream.
What’d my momma tell me one time? If you’re in trouble, scream “fire!” People don’t want to get involved if a woman’s in trouble. They’re more likely to help fight damage to property than a person.
“Fire!” I yell. “Fire!”
Something heavy pounds behind me. Hard breathing. Boots slapping against the ground.
No. No. No. How could that fat bastard catch up to me already?
I push harder. Pump my legs faster. So close to the trees. What I’m going to do when I reach them, I have no idea. Gut instinct says I’ll have a better chance when I can hide.
I don’t waste any more breath screaming. No lights are visible in the inky blackness. I’m utterly alone, wherever the hell I am.
Despair washes over me. I might as well be on another planet.
Don’t give up. Keep running!
Something slams into my back, knocking me to the ground. I tumble and roll through the wet grass, scrambling to get away.
An arm bands around my chest. My feet slip, and my knee bangs painfully against hard earth.
“No! Let me go!” I slam my elbow backwards, hitting something solid but squishy. He grunts out a harsh breath.
“Stop fighting me. No one can hear you anyway.”
Sweet freedom was so close.
Or maybe I never even had a chance.
I buck, kick, and jab with every ounce of strength I have left. He squeezes tighter, pinning my arms to my sides. Something pricks my neck and a ragged scream tears out of my throat. “No!”
