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What happened to my thin, tattered blanket?I wonder, slowly pushing myself to sit up.
Beige-painted walls of a strange room materialize before me. I blink blankly for a moment before my memories rush in, reminding me of the raid that helped me escape the underground bunkers.
Seth’s face flashes in my mind.
He’d chased me until I couldn’t run anymore because of the intense pain my heat caused me. I remember the way he walked into the stream with me, helping me cool down. He showed me more kindness than anyone since I’d been sold to the Black Widow.
“Where is he?” I whisper, looking all around my strange surroundings. “What is this place?”
There’s a lamp on the bedside table that illuminates only a small portion of the room. Unable to bear the suspense, I climb off the bed and head toward the windows to wrench open the curtains.
The sky outside is completely dark. No other houses or buildings surround us. All I can make out are the woods in the distance.
How the hell did I get here?I wonder, trying to recall the last thing I remember.
Seth let me use his body to quench the fiery hunger in my core. He’d been exceedingly gentle despite being affected by my perfume. I remember feeling so good and safe afterward that I’d dozed off.
What else did he do to me?I think, panicking.
I anxiously touch my neck and shoulders, feeling for any bite marks. That’s when I notice that I’m still wearing Seth’s camo-printed shirt. His rosemary scent clings to the fabric, reminding me of him.
My breathing grows erratic. I have no idea where he’s brought me or what he plans to do to me. He could be as evil as the men who kept me as a captive these past several days.
Moving away from the window, I gaze around the room again, spotting two doors. I pad barefoot to the closest one and open it.
The interiors of a clean bathroom come into my view. Closing the door, I walk to the other side of the room and open the other one.
A well-lit hallway greets me.He didn’t lock me up, I realize with a start.
Relief floods my veins, chasing away the panic that’d taken root in my chest.
“Hello?” I call out in a low, hesitant voice. “Is anyone home?”
There is no answer.
Walking down the short corridor, I come across a staircase and slowly make my way down it.
A wider hallway comes into my view, giving me a glimpse of a kitchen in the distance. I walk toward it and stare around at the clean, bare counters.
My stomach groans loudly, startling me. For the first time in a long time, I feel true hunger. Desperate for food, I look around the kitchen and spot a refrigerator in the corner.
I hurry toward it and open the door. A weird odor wafts out, making me shut it close.
The fridge must’ve been sitting without anyone using it for a long time. With no other options, I move toward the cabinets over the counters and open them.
A myriad of canned goods is lined neatly on the shelves. My gaze falls on a tin of pineapples and I immediately grab it.
An excited cheer escapes me as I pull open the lid and find perfectly round cut-up pineapples in syrup. My mouth waters as I reach in and pull out a slice.
“Mmm,” I moan as the sweet, tangy juices flood my tongue. Grabbing two more slices, I stuff them in my mouth.
Eyes closed, I savor the taste. It feels like it’s been years since I’ve tasted anything as good as these canned pineapples. Reaching in, I bring out a couple more slices and cram them in my mouth.
A satisfied huff escapes me when I’ve finished the whole can. I’m about to look for something else to eat when the sound of a door opening somewhere alerts me.
Moving away from the open cabinets, I turn toward the doorway.
I can’t believe I let myself get lured by the food in the kitchen. The moment I came down the stairs, I should’ve headed straight for the door and made my escape.
