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What's going on? Panic starts to creep in as my gaze falls upon the shiny silver cuff tightly encircling my wrists above my head. The metallic gleam stands out starkly against my lightly tanned skin. I follow the chain to discover another cuff securing the edge of the bed frame, slipping through a hole in its woodwork.
I'm freaking chained to the bed? I tug at the restraints again, my heart pounding in my chest. This is so not how I expected to wake up.
"Did things really get that kinky?" I mutter to myself, my eyes darting around the room, searching for any clue about what's going on. Where’s Cole? And why is this swanky room suddenly empty and devoid of any sign of life? I wasn't that drunk last night, so how did I end up like this? As I realize I’m dressed in a man’s t-shirt, I'm torn between letting out a scream and trying to stay calm.
As I'm pondering my next move, I hear slow, heavy footsteps approaching. Out of nowhere, Cole appears in the empty doorway, making his way towards me, a white tray in hand filled with a variety of breakfast foods.
Seeing him sends a chill down my spine. He's dressed all in black, from his loose-fitting t-shirt to his sweatpants, and he’s unsettlingly calm. He locks his icy gray eyes onto me. "Feel free to scream if you want. No one will hear you."
I gulp, feeling a lump forming in my throat. Something is seriously wrong here, and I don't need all the details, I just need to get out. I struggle against the chains, desperately trying to break free from this messed-up situation.
However, Cole remains unfazed, almost as if he was expecting my resistance. His eyes hold an unrecognizable yet dangerous glimmer, leaving me utterly perplexed and on edge. The contrast between his current demeanor and the charming guy I was with last night is jarring. It throws me off, my mind spinning as I try to understand the sudden change. My breathing kicks into overdrive as confusion takes over. What the hell is going on?
Instinct kicks in as my mind races, desperately searching for any possible way out of this situation. "Where’s my phone?" I demand, my brows hanging heavy.
Cole settles himself gingerly beside me, carefully placing the breakfast tray on the rumpled sheets of the bed. "Not here," he calmly replies. "I figured you might be hungry."
I resist the chains, pulling and straining against their unyielding grip.
"I can feed you, if you like?" Cole leans in, still unfazed, his voice maintaining its unnerving composure.
My eyes burn up, tears welling between my lids as I try to comprehend the absurdity of my newfound circumstance.
Just moments ago, I was savoring the remnants of an unforgettable night, but now it seems that the night won't be the only thing leaving a mark on my life. I keep my gaze fixed on Cole as he casually plucks a grape from one of the bowls on the tray and pops it in his mouth.
"Why are you doing this?" I need answers, even if they only scratch the surface of this growing nightmare.
Cole takes a deep breath, his eyes locked onto mine. He remains silent for a brief moment, like he’s weighing whether or not to reveal his true intentions.
His lips thin, as if he’s just made a decision. "How about I tell you how I met you, Amber Schapiro?" His voice drops an octave when he says my name, his eyes dropping to my lips.
I push away the fluttering in my gut. He's just messing with my head, trying to play mind games. But seriously, what's he talking about? How did he meet me? Does he mean the club?
“Yes I mean the club,” he clarifies, catching me off guard. Can he read thoughts or something? “I'm sure it felt like every other club encounter but I wanted you there Amber, that's why you were at Club Slade,” he adds.
It hits me like a brick. It was pretty sketchy that Layla suddenly scored an invite to Club Slade. Regardless of her influence in the nightclub lifestyle, that place is notorious for being tough to get into. I never even thought twice about it because I was too busy trying to snap out of my slump, but now that I think about it, she seemed to know the bouncer too.
"It's Cupcake, isn't it? You used him to bring in Layla. Is he in on this?” My frown deepens. The questions swirling in my mind going way beyond just that. How did he manage it? How does he even know Layla? How did he know I would show up?
“Cuppie?” Cole asks, his question tinged with confusion.
"Same thing," I snap back, not in the mood for splitting hairs.
"Not really," he mumbles back. "His name is actually Cupressus."
A brief silence follows, and an awkward silence settles in the air like a fog.
"Really? Cupressus?" I burst out laughing, unable to see any connection between the towering, Buffy-like guy and his comically fancy name. The fact that it's been reduced to. "Cuppie" somehow feels more fitting.
I clear my throat, my frown resurfacing. "You used Cuppie," I accuse, watching as Cole's expression shifts to a frown as well.
"I guess I did," he mutters, sitting up and turning to face the edge, his broad back obscuring my view.
He must be bipolar because that is the only logical explanation for my kidnapper to suddenly be solemn by the idea of using someone. I refuse to feel sorry for anyone comfortable holding me against my will.
Cole gets up, and I quickly scan the room, hoping to find something, anything, that could aid my escape. My eyes dart from corner to corner, searching for my phone or anything resembling a key that could match the hole in the cuffs, but the room remains frustratingly devoid of any helpful clues.
Suddenly, Cole breaks the silence calling my attention back to him. “I've been watching you for a while now, you and your friends." He pauses, tucking his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. "Layla, Annie, Ginger. I ran investigations on them all."
