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My mind spins in pure confusion; I don’t want to know what this stuff is or what it does. I can only imagine it has something to do with kinky sex, but I really don’t want to let my mind ponder over what the X-framed contraption is used for. I let out a long, audible groan in the silent room. I will never be ready to have sex forced on me, but who the hell ever is, virgin or not? I start to wonder what type of mind games these people plan to inflict on me. The psychological destruction could be much worse than any of these instruments of pain on the wall. Will they cut me so deep mentally I will wind up having irreversible scar tissue on my soul? Will I be unable to ever fully heal should I get out of this alive?

I find myself struggling against fear and self-pity. I can’t afford to have either. I’m sick with anticipation of what’s to come. I can’t allow myself to think of those negative thoughts, but they keep slipping in, taking over my mind at every turn. I try to take a deep, calming breath, but it comes out shaky.

I need to start thinking again of an alternate escape plan to get out of this prison cell. I slide the curtains back into place hastily, thinking if I can’t see those freaky things, they won’t exist. I also don’t want to be caught standing in front of these exposed torture devices with the curtains drawn back when someone walks in, either. I’d feel like Vanna White, displaying my body before the nasties, and then the bad guys might get sidetracked and become full of ideas I don’t want entertained.

I don’t want to wonder whose paraphernalia this belongs to, or with whom and when they plan on using it. Spine-chilling shivers race through my body at those horrifying thoughts. Yes, Jules, you dimwit; if they kidnapped you, you can bet they have immoral and corrupt plans they want to implement.

Logical reasoning skills have me beginning to deduct the following hypothesis: One, abducting me from my own home automatically makes them criminal, sick fucks. Two, the proverbial writing is literally on the wall; they’re into disgusting fetishes. Finally, number three, I’m so screwed, pun fully-intended. I giggle at my own little joke and then shake myself, wondering why in the world I’d be making funnies at a time like this. Am I hitting hysteria?

Biting my nails, I turn around and look at the door, half-scared to even try it. I can only imagine there’s some hulk of a man standing guard with a gun just waiting for me on the other side. It would be stupid to think they’d leave the door unlocked, not after everything they went through to capture me.

I move toward the sofa to sit down. My thoughts drift toward my father, and I wonder what he’s doing right now. Obviously, these are the very same men who threatened him. I can’t imagine why anyone would need to threaten his life, let alone steal me in the dead of night. My stomach churns thinking of my dad and Jake having to deal with the horror of my kidnapping, the drama of it all unfolding before their very eyes. Funny how he always kept me so confined to protect me, and I was snatched right out from under him.

It’s been almost a full day since I was taken, and I bet my dad has had a crazy day today, contacting anybody and everybody he could enlist in securing my rescue. My father has all types of connections and contacts in all walks of life; I’d seen some pretty scary people come in and out of our house over the years doing business with him. Being a self-proclaimed master spy from the age of four, I’d heard many confidential conversations growing up that would raise the hairs on the back of a chigger bug, but I never heard anything that would’ve given me pause for concern over our own safety, until yesterday.

One thing is for certain, especially since my father knows who kidnapped me, his wrath will have no mercy. I feel very confident that when my father reaches out to his bounty of resources from both sides of the law, whoever they are, they will find me. I don’t know where I am, but something tells me I can’t be too far away. I can only pray if I am close to home, I’ll be rescued that much more quickly. I smile to myself and relish the thought of my father’s ire being unleashed on these men, storming in with a battalion and taking no prisoners.

CHAPTER SIX

I turn my head at the sound of men talking in the hallway near my door. Their voices grow louder, and my heartbeat starts to thump at a fast pace in my chest as I quickly leap from the sofa. I stand there for a brief second, and I thank my feet for having a mind of their own as they start running for the safety of the bed. By the time I leap into the covers, I hear the door click open, and I quickly take refuge under the fluffy blanket. Yes, I know, as if this will protect me from the impending evils, right? But it’s my only source of comfort at the moment. I lean against the headboard, pulling my safety blanket high up under my chin.

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