She studied the creature while weighing her chances of making it to the bathroom without it attacking. Sleek black fur. Slightly fluffy tail. Tall, pointed ears that reminded her of a German Shepherd. Its face was narrow, almost foxlike.She didn’t know what kind of breed it was, but it looked regal. And much faster than her.
Her stomach growled.
The animal’s ear twitched. It let out a soft whine, almost as if it understood.
“It’s okay. I’ll eat eventually,” she said, trying to smile. “At least once I get out of here.”
The dog didn’t react to her words. It just continued watching her.
A sharper pang in her bladder reminded her that escaping would have to wait. She forced her weak legs to support her weight as she made her choice. She hurried into the bathroom and locked the door behind her, expecting to hear the dog growl, but there was nothing. No sounds. No snarls.
After taking care of her needs, she slowly opened the door. She listened for any movement. Silence. She looked around for the dog, but it was gone.
She inspected the room and spotted the folded clothes left on the garish Pepto-pink bedding. They called to mind the flimsy nightshirt she’d worn since the kidnapping. As she grabbed the clothes, about to change, she caught her own scent and wrinkled her nose.
Had she really been unconscious for days?
She moved toward the bedroom door, shutting and locking it before stepping back. The lock was flimsy. Useless if the man wanted in, but at least she’d hear him coming.
Iliana grabbed the clean clothes and returned to the bathroom. She turned on the water, watching the steam fill the room as she stood in front of the mirror.
She hardly recognized herself.Her long hair was oily and tangled, half falling out of a messy bun. Her olive-toned skin looked ashen. The dark purple circles under her eyes showed that whatever sleep she’d gotten here hadn’t helped.
Turning away, she stripped off her nightshirt and underwear, stepping under the steaming water with a sharp inhale.
She needed this.
As the water flowed over her body, she forced herself not to stay in the temporary relief. On the fogged glass, she wrote: GET OUT. GO HOME. LEAVE ARIZONA.
When she finally stepped out, she dressed, leaving the unfamiliar underwear on the counter. She was glad to finally be wearing normal clothes, despite the jeans and shirt hanging loose on her frame. After brushing her teeth with the unopened toothbrush she’d found in a drawer, she gulped down several handfuls of water straight from the tap. The cool liquid soothed her parched throat.
Her next encounter with her kidnapper needed to be different. She needed to stay calm. To stay in control.
But first, food.
Iliana cracked the door open, peeking into the hall. Relief crashed through her when she found it empty. No sign of the kidnapper or the dog. A savory smell of slow-cooked beef and herbs reached her. Her mouth watered at the aroma, but then her stomach cramped, doubling her over.
Once the pain eased, she straightened and moved down the hall. She stopped at the entry of the living room and hesitantly looked in. She’d expected to see both the dog and its owner guarding the door, but the couch was empty. Neither was in sight, leaving the path to the exit clear.
Her freedom was right there.
A part of her screamed to run, but her last few attempts had ended with her falling unconscious; whether from drugs or sheer weakness, she wasn’t sure. There was no way for her to escape in her condition. Not without food.
She swallowed her pride, forcing herself away from the door.
Survival first. Escape after.
Iliana stepped into the kitchen and froze.
The man at the stove wasn’t her kidnapper. He was taller and broader than the other, his frame powerful beneath his tight black shirt. His braids fell down his back, silver, gold, and glass beads flashing in the light. They clicked softly as he moved.
Even from behind, he radiated a calm that made her shoulders relax slightly.
The man spoke before her thoughts went any further. “Please sit. The stew will be ready shortly.”
His voice was deep and warm, rich with an accent she couldn’t place. The effect felt natural, comforting, and unlike what she’d experienced with the other man. Her reaction to it unsettled her, making her want to flee, but her insides twisted again in protest.
Strength first, she reminded herself.
