Prologue
I woke up disoriented, a feeling which I'd become overly acquainted with these past months. Taking in the small room, everything that surrounded me was unfamiliar. The walls were pine and the room had a quaint cottage feel to it. The place was small and dark but appeared to be clean.
Suddenly, the events that had brought me to that room returned to me in a terrifying jumble and I leaped from the bed, heart pounding wildly in my chest. The memories flashed like scenes from a movie; sped up with bright colors and sounds that trailed together in my mind like a horror reel.
The texts from Steve. Running from Milos. Jogging in and out of the woods trying to remain unseen. The cloth with the pungent smell held against my mouth and the death grip around my waist. The struggle against the strong arms that ended in darkness.
I hadn’t made it to Steve’s car.
Moving quickly to the to the door on my right, I began pulling on the doorknob. It was locked. Fear and frustration mounting, I jiggled the doorknob, pulling and smacking my palm against the hard door, hoping by some minute chance it was only jammed and this was all some crazy mistake.
“Hello! Is someone out there? Please open the door!” I yelled out. Briefly contemplating my situation, I was unsure what response I was actually hoping for.
Pausing to listen for any evidence of another person outside my door, I stilled myself, sitting back onto the small bed.
The creak of a door opening, and a shuffling of feet sounded at a distance, but there was no response. Someone was in the house, but apparently they weren’t speaking to me.
I took stock of the room again, looking anywhere for something that could be used as a weapon. Whoever had brought me here had placed me comfortably and had not hurt me so far, which was a small positive. The fact remained that someone had drugged me and locked me in this room, and that person was certainly no friend of mine.
Finally, I sat up and moved to inspect the drawers of a small bureau pressed against the corner wall of the room. It suddenly occurred to me that here were no windows, so I was confident I wasn’t on a main floor. The air felt slightly damp and there was a mild musty odor permeating the room. Yes, I was definitely in a basement. The realization did little to ease my nerves. Whoever had done this to me had obviously planned ahead, preparing a place where I couldn’t be seen or heard by anyone.
Someone had planned this. Someone had prepared for me specifically. And whoever had done this knew me, apparently very well.
I wondered what time it was, and if Gunnar knew that I was missing. I was sure he must, Milos had wasted no time coming after me when I’d left the house ahead of him. My heart ached to be held and comforted by him.
I managed to explore every corner of the tiny room, but as more time passed, I became restless and anxious, feeling as though the four walls were closing in on me steadily by the minute. After what felt like hours, a faint noise sounded from behind the door as shadows shifted under the doorway.
Jumping back onto the bed, I tucked under the blankets like a child, my heart pounding in my chest and hands shaking as I awaited the face of my captor.
The sound of scraping and clicking sounded outside the door and finally, then doorknob slowly turned, an ominous motion that made my stomach lurch.
Breath stuck in my chest, I pushed myself back further against the headboard, waiting.
The door creaked open slowly, a figure standing at the edge of the doorway, just out of view.
I heard a familiar deep voice call out, “Eliana?”
Fresh tears pricked the corners of my eyes again as I waited for him to show his face in dim light of the doorway. I held the edge of the blanket, pulling it up to my chin as the tears escaped down my cheeks. My heart plummeted as I realized who stood there. I couldn’t believe I had trusted him.
He moved into the doorway, and the light fell on his handsome face, revealing a detached expression from his usual warm eyes.
My heart broke with betrayal as I met his cold gaze. “What do you want from me? Why am I here?” I sobbed.
Clearing his throat as he leaned against the doorway, he made no move to come any closer.
“Just give me a moment to explain and it will all make sense.”
Authors Note:
This story is for mature readers and contains triggers that include violent sexual content. Recommended for readers 18+.
