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“Hello?” I called out weakly, blinking in a vain attempt to get my eyes to adjust to the darkness.
“Careful,” a familiar female voice said. “I think you were unconscious.”
Cora.
My mind raced. What had happened? The last thing I remembered was Nathan’s smile, and then… nothing. I tried to sit up but couldn’t move my arms, which were pinned behind my back.
Don’t let him take you to a second location, I heard Adrian’s voice say in my head, but it was a bit late for that.
“Are you okay?” I asked, as I wriggled uselessly against the cable ties that bound my wrists. I was lying on concrete, which felt colder than usual, like it was damp, and I could smell mold.
“Yeah,” Cora said, her voice croaky. “I think he used chloroform.”
As my vision slowly improved, I saw her vague outline a few feet away from me.
“He was at the house,” I said. “What did he do?”
“I don’t know,” Cora said. “All I know is that I woke up here, not long before you did.”
My head pounded, but I had to push through that and think clearly. It was my only chance. I remembered Adrian’s self-defense class: being tied up had seemed fun then — borderline sexual. But now, it was far too real, and dangerous.
I had no idea what Nathan was capable of, but the fact that he’d kidnapped both of us wasn’t a good sign.
“He hasn’t hurt you, has he?” I asked, as I lay on my side so I could lift my hands over my head. It was harder than doing it on the chair, especially with the cold ground under my shoulder.
“A laceration on my thigh that’ll need sutures,” Cora said. “But it’s just a flesh wound — I’ll be okay. I think he was using me as bait to bring you here.”
I wriggled faster. Why was it that when I was playing around with Adrian, it was easy to escape, but now that my life depended on it, I struggled?
I panted and took a break, lowering my head on the concrete.
A door opened, letting in a stream of light, with a man’s silhouette in the doorway.
Damn, I thought, my heart sinking.I’ve missed my chanceto flee. He’s going to kill me.
The man closed the door and descended the stairs with heavy footsteps. He pulled a cord that was attached to the ceiling and a single bulb switched on.
Nathan leered at me.
“Finally awake,” he said. “You always were a lazy cunt.”
The insult gave me a harder kick to the stomach than his boots ever could.
“The only cunt here is you,” I said, no longer willing to put up with his shit. If I was going to die, I’d go down swinging.
Instead of fighting, Nathan calmly stepped to the other side of the room. I was used to his volatile temper, but this new, calm version of Nathan was unnerving. It would have been less terrifying to see him lose his temper.
“You’re not in a position to argue,” he said, as he walked back toward me again. I could see now what motivated his calmness: the massive knife in his hand.
He kneeled next to me and held it against my throat, pressing its blade against me with just enough pressure to slice the skin.
“Not so tough now, are you?” he asked, as I felt a warm trickle of blood run from the cut to the ground.
I stared at him, full of hatred. How I had ever seen this man as someone I loved and wanted to marry, I had no idea. Because all I could see now was a heartless, violent psychopath.
“What do you want?” I asked. “Why am I here?”
Nathan gave me that sleazy smile again and pulled back the knife so I could see my blood on its sharp edge.
