Chapter eight
Mercy
Aninsistentcrampinginmy lower abdomen brings me back to the land of the living. Wish I could have stayed in blissful unawareness, though, becausethis hurts. Hopefully, it's just my twisted emotions wreaking havoc on my system.
Reluctantly opening my eyes, I regret it as soon as I do. My blue rabbit has been ever so thoughtfully placed by my pillow. I can't think about that. I can't. I have to figure out what to do about right now. I turn onto my side and curl my legs up. I smell something funny again, like earlier. Did he—?
He did.He took off the robe I had, leaving me naked in his bed, and rubbed more of his...semen...on me. I’ve never shown my body to anyonebesides a doctor before, and I hate that he’s seen me naked at least twice. That he's done things to me when I was sleeping, completely helpless and at my most vulnerable.
A moan from both the pain and the overthinking of my brain leaves me.Amos kidnapped me after drugging me and marking me with his bodily fluids. His ejaculate. I still don’t know if he raped me. And what does he mean when he says he’sclaimedme? That he's going tomarryme? He doesn’t seem to want to hurt me, but his obsession is borderline insane.
And it came from out of the blue. We didn't interact much at work, but never would I have expected him to do something this extreme. Unless I missed any signs, which is entirely possible. But surely I would have noticed something. Wouldn't I?
And now look at me. Abducted.
Four freaking hours away from Providence Falls and apparently in the middle of nowhere, no one even knows to look for me. I never made any friends here other than Eliza at work, if she even counts. And my many foster parents have no idea where I am. Probably don’t care, either. I took off at eighteen and never looked back.
I didn't pay the rent.I don't know if my landlord will care, maybe just think I skipped out.Would a corporation care about one single tenant who skips out? Maybe they'll raise a fuss and look for me. I can only hope.Fear wants to overtake me, but I can’t panic.I’ve got to keep a level head because I'm all I've got. Me—an introvertedthirty-three-year-oldwho can’t even act my age and will bend over backwards just to avoid any conflict.
It’s okay, Mercy.Just need to keep a cool head and find my cell phone. Any phone.
Snick.The bedroom door opens and Amos stalks toward the bed, still sans shirt. "Feeling better, sweet Mercy?"
No, not really. I need to sit up because I don’t want to increase my vulnerability by lying down. Not that it would stop him. Makes me feel just a smidge better, though. I jerk up, wincing and wrapping the covers around me as I do.Oooh, I regret moving now. A gush of wetness falls from my core, letting me know the cramping was more serious than I thought. It’s myfreakin’period.
Great. With my PCOS, I can go months without having a period, even when on my medicine, but to get onenowof all times? It's probably going to be a heavy one, too. How am I going to get him out of the room long enough for me to clean up? And what’ll I wear? There are no clothes, no underwear here for me unless he brought any of my things here.
Oh, God—the sheets.How am I supposed to stop him from seeing the blood on the sheets?Please don’t let there be blood.
"Mercy? What’s wrong, baby?" I never did have a strong poker face.
He rushes his last two steps to the bed, scanning me for injuries. My kidnapper has the nerve to ask me what’s wrong?Freakin’clueless man. I don’t want to antagonize him, though. That wouldn’t be smart when he’s staring so intensely at me. "I just don’t feel so well."
"I’m sorry you're still feeling bad. Your system should have been flushed out by now." I internally scream as he casually glosses over the fact that he drugged me. "Do you want to eat and drink something? Maybe that will help. You slept so long, it's just about time for dinner."
"Sure." No, I don’t. I want to leave. I want my own house, withmybed andmyclothes.I slept so long because hefreakin'druggedme. "Why don’t you go make something and I’ll meet you in the kitchen?"
There. Go away. If he leaves me alone, I can clean up. I don’t remember seeing anything in the bathroom I can use. I may have to settle for wadded up toilet paper and hisbriefs.
Gross.
"No, come with me. I want to spend time with you, get to know you better. We didn’t really see much of each other at work." Bulging biceps pluck me from the mattress. "Are you bringing the covers with you?" he laughs.
Glad one of us finds this amusing. And yes. Yes, I am.
His chuckle cuts off, muscles tensing. Uh-oh. Guess he found the blood. "Do you need to tell me something, Mercy?"
Need, yes. Want, no. Hard no. But I think I have to. "Ummm..." My face is red-hot from embarrassment. I avoid his gaze and turn my head, blankly staring at the huge wall-mounted tv across from the bed.Be nice. You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar."I-I think I started my period. Do you...have anything I can use until I can go to the store?"
Silence.
Oh, no—did I gross the bad man out? Apparently, the mastermind didn’t think of everything a captive woman would need.
Risking a quick glance, I peek up at him. Mistake. A curious look burns brightly from his arctic eyes. Calling it anything other than pure lust would be a lie. Is he...turned on at the fact that I'm on my period? I’ve never in my life had such a powerful stare directed to me before. Other than yesterday, but at least we were both fully clothed.
He moves. I yelp at the change in gravity, suddenly finding myself flat on my back, still with the covers wrapping me like a burrito.
"What are you doing?" I hiss as he strips his sweats and briefs off to reveal a thick red cock. Crazy man snatches the covers from me with ridiculous ease, leaving me completely naked. My hands fly down to cover myself, but he grabs them and shoves my legs apart.No! This can’t be happening."Stop—stop it!" The scream involuntarily exits my lungs. "Didn’t you hear me? I’m on my period! A-amos!"
