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Trying to remember what exactly happened was hard as hell, but she thought about it, needing to make sense of it all.
Came home.
Grabbed the wine.
Took a bath.
After that part she was drawing a blank, and her heart started beating hard and fast. Had she gotten drunk from the wine? She couldn’t believe she had. And even so, she’d been inherapartment soaking in the tub.
What in the fuck happened?
Afraid to sit up just yet because of the pounding in her head, she looked around the room as best she could. There was a window across from her. The shades were closed, but she could see the sun shining through the blinds.
There was a dresser off to the left, a door to her right, and … nothing else. The room was barren of anything of use to her. She tried to move then, knowing she needed to get up and push past any discomfort to find answers, but when she realized she was immobile she looked down.
Her legs were bound together, and her hands were above her head, tied to the headboard.
God. What in the hell?
She struggled to get her hands free, but a gasp of pain left her as the rope that was used to bind her wrists dug into her flesh even harder, abrading her.
Her heart was beating so hard it hurt, and sweat lined her brow and between her breasts. She looked down at herself, breathing out when she realized she was at least wearing her clothes. But who had put them on her?
“Hello?” She whispered at first, not sure if she should have even said anything for fear of who’d put her in this room and strung her up.
Silence greeted her.
She didn’t know what to do. Maybe screaming wasn’t the best choice given the fact whoever had put her in this situation didn’t want her to leave. But what if someone else could hear her, help her?
“Help,” she screamed out, willing to take that chance. Angelina struggled harder, gritting her teeth against the pain of the rope tightening around her wrists. She tried in vain again to recall what in the hell happened after she’d gotten in the bath, but the more she tried to remember, the more her head hurt. “Help,” she cried out again. She glanced around, and even knowing what was in the room, she looked for another way out.
First you have to get yourself untied.
And then, pushing past the pain to get to her memories, it sparked in her brain like a light bulb coming on. She remembered someone coming up from behind her, his big body dwarfing hers.
He’d been in a dark t-shirt and denim, his face hard in expression, cold in appearance. He’d held a rag over her mouth and nose, and she hadn’t been able to help but breathe in. It had been a sickly-sweet odor, one that had made it impossible to fight him back.
After that, everything had gone dark.
She’d been taken by God only knew who, and all she could think about was the shit that would be done to her. Was this someone getting back at her father, her family? Was it just some run of the mill psycho?
Angelina had been right about being followed, about having that fear consume her at every turn. She should have taken better precautions at staying safe.
I should have run.
She heard the sound of heavy boots coming closer to the closed door. She held her breath, her entire body tensing, her pulse beating hard and frantic. Sweat started to cover her face and the back of her neck, sliding down the valley between her breasts.
All she could think about was what would happen.
Maybe it wasn’t someone after her father orjusta maniac. Maybe itwasher father. Had she finally been found? Was it his men that had done this to her? It wasn’t Sal’s normal move, but it had been months since she’d spoken to her father, and she knew desperate times made people do twisted things.
The Cardonas weren’t known for their levelheaded or rational thinking.
She could hear the thumping of her heart beating wildly, and as she watched the door handle turn, she felt the rise of fear.
Angelina had lived a life that was filled with violence and danger. She was used to knowing fear was something that held people in check, but she’d always been surrounded by others who wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
But Angelina had hated that life, and that was why she’d left, run from it all and was staying low.
