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"It’s Karma, you asshole."
"Maybe I’ll call you Llama."
"Don’t you dare."
"Language…" he says in a mild tone.
"Oh, fuck off." I hunch my shoulders and turn my head away from him. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and honestly, that’s just stupid. Why do I care what he calls me? Hell, he can call me Destiny, for all I care. Not that it is insulting or anything. Actually, I’d take Destiny over Karma anyway, considering the number of times I’ve been teased for having been called that. It’s a stupid name. Why did my mother have to call me by that name. Being a flower child is all well and good, but why couldn’t she have called me by some other new age easily pronounceable name instead? And why did she have to die on us, anyway?
I had been a baby when she’d passed on. The only things I remember about her come from the photographs of her that we have. I don’t remember anything about her in real life. If it hadn’t been for my sister Summer, who became the de facto maternal figure in my life, well, I’d have never had any inkling of what it would be like to have a mother. Thanks to Summer, though, I’ve always felt loved. She’s done a lot for me, my sister.
Surely, she'll be missing me. Despite the messages that this man says he’s been sending her from my phone, surely, she’ll know that something is wrong and she’ll come in search of me? Surely.
I sniffle, and to my horror, a tear makes its way down my cheek. Shit, shit, shit. The last thing I want is to be seen as being weak by this man. I don’t want him to see just how defeated I feel right now. That the true horror of my predicament is finally sinking in.
Shit. I have been kidnapped by this monster and he is not letting me leave. I can’t even try to jump off a cliff without his somehow snatching me back from the jaws of whatever fate had in store for me. How the hell am I going to find a way out of here? Why the hell had he come after me in the first place?
"Why?" I demand, my voice hoarse. "Why the hell did you have to turn my bloody life upside down?"
"Why did you have to turn my life upside down?"
I blink.
"Wh…what?"
"You heard me." He lowers his face until his lips are right above mine. Until that hooked nose of his bumps mine, until those long thick eyelashes of his kiss mine. "It’s you who’s turned my plans upside down."
"I… I have?"
He nods, "I was supposed to kill you, not bring you here and spare your life and—"
"Wait, what?" My heart gallops so hard in my chest, I am sure it’s going to break through my rib cage. "What do you mean kill me?"
His lips twist, "Off you, shoot you in the head, or did you forget that I did hold the gun to your forehead? If you’ve forgotten, I don’t mind reminding you."
"No," I snap, "I remember."
"Good," he nods, "so you can understand how crazy it seems that I’m standing here, carrying you in my arms, and after saving you from throwing yourself down the side of the cliff into the sea—"
"My foot slipped," I snap. "I would never kill myself."
"Sure didn’t seem like that to me."
"Believe me, I love my life. Or rather, I loved it before you came along."
"Did you?" He peers into my face.
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"You may have told yourself that you were happy, but the woman I saw that day on the hillside of the park was lonely and quoting Byron in the hopes of finding a reason to live."
I open my mouth to retort, but he tilts his head, "Am I wrong?"
I glance away.
"Thought not."
He straightens, then heads off, once more, in the direction of the house. He retraces my earlier steps, back across the lawn, through the front door, then up the stairs. He walks down the corridor, enters my room, and lays me down on my bed. I turn away from him, wrap my arms about my waist. The softness of the pillow under my cheek, that masculine scent of his that surrounds me, all of it confirms that I am safe. Safe.
A trembling grips me. Maybe it’s the fact that I almost went over the side of the cliff.OMG, OMG… I almost died. Gah.My arms and legs feel too weak. A ball of emotion clogs my throat. What the hell? I had been fine this far, so why am I breaking down now? A tear slides down my cheek.Stop that, you idiot. What’s wrong with you? Why are you crying now?
Say something. Protest again. Ask him to let you go.As if any of that is going to work. Face it, I am here as his captive and I’ll stay here until he lets me go… Which is never. Unless he kills me... But he’s never gonna release me and I am going to spend the rest of my life in this stupid room, on this stupid island, playing stupid word games with this over-the-top, mean, growly, grumpy, way-too-handsome, egoistical, controlling, arrogant tyrant.
Another tear slides down my cheek and I can’t stop shaking. Gah.
The bed dips, and the next second, the heat of his body sears my back.
