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Leaning close, nose to nose, I catch her panicked gaze. “I can let you breathe, sweetheart, but then we’re gonna do this my way. Got it?”
Her chest heaves and hitches as she nods repeatedly.
“Good girl.”
I let go and she inhales with a long wheeze before a stream of words start pouring out between her lips while tears trickle from the corners of her eyes.
“Ch—Christian… Please don’t kill me. Please don’t. Cecilia needs me, I’m her mother and she’s so little. I don’t care what you do with me but please don’t kill me, andpleasedon’t take her from me, please Chr—” Her voice finally breaks, and she erupts in sobs.
I wait patiently for her to get it off her chest while I look around for something to tie her up with. When she is silent, I snap my belt open and pull it away from my waist.
Her head jerks up and then there are more tears as her eyes dart between the belt and me.
I look at her, frowning, and then at the belt and it takes me a moment to get it. Fucking hell, she thinks I’m gonna rape her? Nothing could be further from my mind. Now. Always. I might be a rough lover, but I don’t rape.
“Ker, Ker… I’m gonna… I’m not…”Fuck!“I’m just gonna tie you up. Just that. Okay? I need to see to my wound and clean up and I just don’t trust you not to leap around and plot against me. Are we clear? Nothing else’s gonna happen.”
She looks miserable, but she nods.
“Put your hands behind your back.” I get up and let her turn, then I wrap the belt around her wrists and pull until she can’t get out of it.
“Christian,” she whispers.
I stop and look at her.
“Please don’t take her.”
I regard her for a moment. I could reassure her I won’t, but I don’t. I don’t make promises. And I probably need the leverage.
“I need a sheet.”
“Chris—”
“A sheet, Kerry. Now!” I grit my teeth. She’s always fucking fighting me.
Her lower lip trembles as she nods toward a cupboard standing by the far wall. I straighten with a groan and limp over to it, finding piles of clothes, towels and bed linen, all neatly organized. Snatching a crisp, pristinely white sheet off a shelf, I unfold it as I head back to the couch. It’s almost criminal, what I’m about to do.
Kerry looks between my face and my hands. “What are you—”
Her eyes widen as I begin to tear long strips out of the fabric and she connects the dots. My bloodied hands leave red streaks on the sheet, and I feel almost ashamed when I begin to tie her hands and feet together. Kerry whimpers when I circle her ankles, but she doesn’t speak again.
Kerry
He didn’t answer!
I watch his back as he leaves for the bathroom. He almost shuts the door, leaving only a crack. Wriggling, I desperately try my bonds, but he has obviously done this before and I’m not getting them to slacken even the slightest. Instead I try to find the least uncomfortable position on the cushions and close my eyes. I’m so tired. Sleep could easily claim me if I didn’t refuse it. When did I get so tired? I try to listen for Cece’s light snoring from the bedroom, but the noise from the water running in the bathroom drowns out all other sounds, just as his mere presence here drowns out my thoughts. I can’t think coherently, my mind’s just as bound as my body and I don’t know what to do, how to save us. I’ve tried my damnedest. By hiding, but he found us. By trying to hit him in the head and then stab him, but he lives.
At first, I think it’s Christian who has finished in the bathroom, but then I hear that the scraping sound comes from outside my front door and then there’s a hesitant knock.
Someone’s knocking on my door!
My earlier drowsiness is gone in a fraction of a second and I glance at the bathroom. The water is still running and the door is closed. My heart pounds wildly.Save us! Please! Whoever you are!
“Kerry?” The voice is low, male, trembling.
Ray! Oh, Ray! I think I love you!
“Help,” I say, not too loud, my gaze shifting between the bathroom door and the front door. I swallow hard, adrenaline flowing through my veins again.Dear God, hear me!
