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Oh, God. Where was I?
I blinked several times, trying to focus, swimming up from the pit of blackness that had held me down. As my eyes slowly began to focus, I finally managed to ease to a sitting position, every muscle aching.Where the hell am I?I scanned the location, finally realizing I was in a hotel room. Wait a minute. Hold on. How had I gotten here?
And why was I under the covers?
When my eyes fell onto a pile of clothes on the floor, I jerked the covers against my chest as if that was going to do me any good. I was almost completely naked. Oh, God. What had I done? As I took shallow breaths, I realized my pulse was racing. Why had my clothes been removed? Fear slipped into my system, and it almost became crippling. There was nothing worse in my mind than waking up in a hotel room and having no idea how I’d gotten here.
I closed my eyes, trying to bring back the last memory. The storm had come in so fast. One minute it had been dry, some sun in the sky. Then the clouds had rolled over, suffocating the light. Within minutes, it had started snowing. That’s right. I… my car. Oh, no. The car had skidded on the ice and I’d driven into a ditch.
Then I’d started walking.
Then headlights and… nothing.
But as the scent of smoke filtered into my system once again, my skin began to tingle. I freed my arms from the covers, staring down at the goosebumps covering both as I remembered something else.
A man’s strong arms holding me against his chest.
A husky voice telling me it was going to be okay.
And imploring eyes the color of the Aegean Sea.
When I heard a noise, I turned my head. That’s when I knew I was in deep trouble.
A pile of clothes was on the floor near the bathroom. Men’s clothes. Oh. My. God. Please don’t tell me I’d fallen into the hands of a twisted man who’d taken advantage of me when I’d been unconscious.
Don’t panic. There must be an explanation.
This couldn’t be happening to me. I was a good girl, well, at least for the most part. I obeyed all the rules, tried to be kind to strangers, and gave to charities. Why this?
Stop thinking so irrationally.
How could I?
Maybe I had been a silly girl to drive my sports car. Montana weather was unpredictable in March. I knew better. Even though I’d tried to erase most memories from living in Missoula, I wasn’t stupid. Or maybe I had been. Wrecking the car served me right. Panic reared its ugly head, enough so I couldn’t breathe for a few seconds.
I threw back the covers and an instant bite of cold rushed into my arms and legs. Shuddering, I peered down in a strange combination of horror and relief. At least I was still wearing my underwear. A benefit. And I didn’t smell like sex. A definite benefit. Whoever the son of a bitch was, he hadn’t fucked me like some wild animal.
Oh, I was definitely lost in the fog from before. There was no other explanation for my crazy thoughts. One thing was certain. I had to get out of this room beforehecame out of the bathroom. I immediately reached for my clothes, so lightheaded I almost tumbled to the floor. Whew. It took me three tries to grab my jeans. They were soaking wet.
Okay, maybe that was why mystery man had removed them. I tried to remember even a glimpse of his face. Unable to do so, I envisioned him as a monstrous man with wild hair and an unruly beard, capable of ripping a man apart with his bare hands. And to think the gruff bastard had brought me to a cheap motel like this one? I certainly deserved a lot better than to be treated like a whore.
When I took a single step, it was too quickly and I felt back on the bed, gasping for air. How far had I managed to walk? I could barely remember anything but the bitter cold, winds whipping through my jacket. I’d been so stupid to try to make it the rest of the way. It wasn’t like I’d been dying to return.
When my heart stopped thudding against my ribcage, I carefully rose to my feet, still wobbly but stronger than before. While I could tell the heat from the unit under the window was on full blast, a burst of cold skittered into me, icy tentacles sliding through every muscle. My underwear was damp, so cold against my skin that I couldn’t breathe. I had to find something to wear.
A bag. I noticed whoever the predator was had brought in a bag. I carefully made my way toward it, determined to snatch a shirt.Are you crazy?You’re going to put on something that belongs to a crazed killer?My inner voice wasn’t helping in the least. I certainly wasn’t going to stand in a flaming red thong and lace bra while Mr. Serial Arsonist cleaned soot and grime from his body after burning down someone’s house.
Yes, you are.
No, I wasn’t.
There’s no other way to try to get out of his clutches.
There were times my inner voice did make some sense. Tonight was one of those nights. I was a strong woman. I’d left my comfy home for Texas all by myself. I could certainly wear clothes I had no business wearing.
My rational brain had yet to be thawed.
As I started riffling through his bag, I could swear I heard the shower being cut off. Shit. I didn’t have much time. I tossed various items onto the floor. Rope. A flashlight. Protective eye goggles. No clothes yet. A small ax. A mallet. A…
