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Chapter 19
Shelby
“Noah,” I moaned, “I had a horrible nightmare. Noah?”
I didn’t want to open my eyes because I knew I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The mattress beneath me wasn’t my bed, or his. The smells in the room weren’t fresh like at his place, and even the light was different. I’d landed somewhere unknown. Rolling over was impossible as my arm was stuck. I yanked and it clanked—What the hell?
My mouth felt stuffed with cotton, and I felt nauseous as I blinked open one eye. The room spun, and I quickly closed it again.
Shel, why are you so dumb? He told you not to leave without him, but you are so damn stubborn you just had to prove what? That you can? That you’re an independent woman. Maybe if you’re working so hard to prove that you are, deep down you know you’re not!
Holy shit snacks! My subconscious was way smarter than I gave her credit for. If I got out of here in one piece, I would tell Noah I needed him, really needed him, like begging him to keep me, needed him. Had I ever admitted that truth? Once, but nothing in my actions had proven what I knew. That he was and would always be the only Daddy for me. The only Dom I would bow to and the only man I would allow to control aspects of my life.
Tears started from the corners of my eyes. Great, I finally was willing to own up to my true feelings and let go of all the uncertainty from the past weeks and I couldn’t. I was too late. I’d been a total brat. But my survival instincts were so hard-wired it was difficult to give up any control. He had been so patient with me, and how had I responded? By running off and doing the exact opposite? Breaking his number one rule, safety first.
That’s what negotiations are for, dumbass! Not to take away your freedoms, but to allow you to fully immerse yourself in them.
“I’m an ass,” I groaned aloud into the empty room. Daring to open both eyes, I recognized the cheap crib I was cuffed to and the room. I’d been here once before when I was on a date with Peter.
Peter was more than a little unhinged. The crazy psycho had humiliated me, followed me, and then drugged me and cuffed me to a crib. No way in hell was my fate going to be tied to that guy as his baby or anything else, I would rather die.
Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.
Talk about gross, what was with childish rhymes, they must have very gruesome origins. But I couldn’t get the stupid nursery rhyme out of my head, it repeated on a loop. Maybe whoever made it up was as desperate as me and would do anything to be free.
I was about to test the strength of my confines when I heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Part of me wanted to close my eyes and pretend to sleep in the hopes he would just go away. But what would that accomplish? Delaying the inevitable. Instead, I sat up, glaring at the door, prepared to let him know I wouldn’t be easy to overcome, even with the handcuffs. What had I called it, bitchy bluster? That’s what I would do, let that be the first thing he saw when he entered the room. Let him bear witness to my defiance. I would fight back.
Time seemed to slow as I was acutely aware of my surroundings, like in my games when everything else disappeared but me and my opponent. The sound of his feet as he walked down the hall. The light in the room faded away. Noah would know by now that I was gone. Would he be upset or worried? The better question was, would he find me?
Please find me.
The door opened and standing on the threshold with a shit-eating grin on his face was Peter.
“How’s my babygirl doing?”
“I’m not a babygirl, and certainly not yours. Seriously, Peter, you know kidnapping is a crime, don’t you?”
“Now is that any way to talk to your Daddy?”
The guy must have gone off the rails. “Did you not hear me? You are not my Daddy, not then, not now, never, you psycho!”
“Of course I am,” he stepped into the room. “You just have to learn your place. When you’ve simmered down, I will get you a bottle of warm milk, and then we can discuss your naughty attitude.”
Seriously? He just would not break his stride with this crap!
“I think you may be coming down with a temperature. You stay still and rest, while Daddy gets a thermometer for your little bum.”
He left the room, and I began yanking on the cuff, desperate to get out of here. There was no way in hell he was sticking something up my ass. The crib, while large, was made of wood, and whoever made it had not done a very good job. I grabbed hold of the slat where the cuffs were attached and yanked on it furiously. If I could break the slat, then I would be free and have a weapon to help me escape.
Please, please, please, just loosen! The slat came free, and I kept it squeezed in my hands. Peter came running, no doubt drawn by all the ruckus, slamming the nursery door back against the wall. I jumped out of the crib and held the slat in my hands, ready to defend my body from Peter at all costs.
As Peter stalked toward me, a feral look in his eyes, the sound of splintering wood grabbed both of our attention. Peter ran back out into the hallway. I heard, “It’s over. Stop or we’ll shoot.” I didn’t recognize the voices and wondered if they belonged to the police? Then a familiar face poked around the corner.
“Shelby?”
“Daddy,” I cried, running to the door. Noah scooped me up in mid-stride and held me close.
“Shelby, honey, you had me so worried. Did he hurt you? What did he do? What happened?”
