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My eyes traveled over the small space to take in the stash of food and water that rested on the floor by the door. No bowls or dishes. Two large milk gallons had been filled with water and a store bought loaf of bread sat beside it. Now, they were practically gone. How long had I been here? Been missing?
Days blurred together and I couldn’t get a good frame of time. Surely my brother knew something was wrong when I hadn’t come home. He had to be looking for me. And if Zain was alive, maybe he told the police and they were looking for me, too.
My legs drew up closer to my chest while I pressed my back deeper into the corner I was huddle in. A spring pushed through the mattress and I shifted to get it further away from my bare thigh. The black dress I wore was torn and broken in more places than I cared to think about, but I couldn’t stomach removing it. Not only because it would leave me exposed, but it held the memories of the passion my Master had before our lives changed forever. Fuck, I missed him. Guilt ate away at me and I pushed the side of my face harder into the wall. The need to scream almost made it uncontrollable to sit still. I wanted to explode. To destroy everything in my path for the predicament I was now in. For what I’d done to him. What if I hadn’t hurt his arm? What if I had stayed in his home instead of leaving? He would have killed them. I knew he would have. And we would have been together—safe.
Knots met my fingers as I buried them in the front of my hair, lowering my head to rest on my knees. What was I doing just sitting here? I may have checked this place repeatedly, but I shouldn’t be giving up now. What if I had missed something?
The moment I stood, the door flew open, making me jerk back defensively. I hated showing fear. Hated even more that I was back to the point of being afraid. I’d spent years living with my nightmares. Now, here I was, living another one.
A finger pointed back to the corner where I’d been sitting, as if to say, “Sit back down”. Slowly, I rounded to the far side, further away. There was no way I was obeying their order. The wall stayed at my shoulder and I crept lightly toward the corner straight ahead. The figure took a step forward, but didn’t come after me. I could see their hesitation, almost as if fear shone in their eyes. The dark depths made jerky movements between me and the bed, but seemed to give up on making me obey. They grabbed the nearly empty jugs of water and disappeared. I listened, waiting to hear the bolt slip into place.
Still, the man wore a dark ski mask, only revealing his eyes. And he’d be back soon. I knew there was someone with him. He’d been the one to knock me out. It was just like last time. Just like…
My eyes narrowed and a snarl left my lips.
“Bethany!” I rushed toward the door, slamming my closed fists against the wood. “Bethany! Charles! Open this fucking door, you psycho motherfuckers.”
Harder, I hit, until my hand went numb. I was determined not to stop until they opened. It didn’t take long. The door swung, slamming into the wall. I scattered back at the gun pointed directly at my chest.
“Do we have a problem?”
Different man. And this one didn’t seem afraid of me. Had it been the other one, I’d have snapped that gun right out of his hand and shot him with it. I’d learned enough self-defense to kick any normal person’s ass. With these men, I wasn’t going to risk it until I learned more about them.
“I know Bethany and Charles are behind this. They took me, didn’t they? You’re just, what? Watching me so they’re not exposed?”
I could see the guy’s eyes squint and suddenly, I wasn’t so sure.
Green eyes. I’d have to remember that.
I kept the questions quick, to buy me some time.
“What are you planning to do with me? Are you going to kill me? Hurt me? Sell me? Is this connected to me? My brother? Zain? Speak!” I yelled.
The man stalked forward, moving the gun to my head as he forced me back against the wall. Metal from the barrel pushed into my forehead and I could feel myself shaking. But not from fear—pure adrenaline.
At this point, I had nothing to lose.
“Shut…the fuck up,” he said through clenched teeth.
My left hand shot out, grabbing his wrist, while at the same time, my right hand grasped the gun, bringing it down out and turning it back on him. The action was so fast and natural, I was still holding my breath. It was a move I never thought I’d have to use, but I’d never been more thankful to have learned the one thing that helped with my fears. Martial arts had become my life and although I hadn’t had my instructor come over for the last few months, it was like riding a bike. Natural, like the air I breathed.
The shock had him frozen and I knew I wasn’t dealing with professionals. Had I done that to Zain, he would have taken that gun from me just as fast, if not faster. Maybe I wouldn’t have even got it away from him.
“Move.” My thumb slipped down to check the safety. It was off. Another blessing I’d made sure I’d learned after my return. I was one hell of a shot. Once a victim, always a survivor. And I’d live through this. No one took my control away anymore. No one but my Master.
“Move!”
The guy scrambled back toward the door just as another man came rushing through. I didn’t think. Didn’t want to after seeing the gun resting by the man’s thigh. He was carrying and I wasn’t going to chance it. My finger pulled back the trigger, once, twice, three times…four. Two in each man. One in the chest for my master, one in the head for me.
I didn’t wait. I rushed past the door and was met with an empty, rustic looking living room. I didn’t lower the gun until I spotted my saving grace. A cell phone rested on the coffee table and I grabbed it, gripping it like a lifeline.
Boarded windows also covered these walls. I went to the front door, easing it open as I peeked outside. Trees. Lots of them. As if I were in a forest.
A gust of went sent a shiver down my spine. I glanced down at the black dress and cursed. Would anyone else come back? Regardless, I couldn’t go out there dressed as I was. I’d freeze to death. It felt like it was about to snow.
My fingers dialed Slade’s number as I quietly moved through the house to a bedroom in the back.
“Slade Roberts.” There was a certain breathlessness that filled his tone and I nearly smiled and burst out crying at hearing his voice.
