11. Katelyn
I don’t know how much time has passed since Alex slammed the door shut. It could be minutes. It could be hours. I suspect it’s the latter because the light that fills the room tells me it’s late morning already. I’m exhausted, but I’m too scared to sleep.
It’s chilly in here, and I’ve been sitting on the edge of the stiff, prison-like bed. The mattress is thin and lumpy, perched on a creaky metal frame that looks like it was salvaged from an actual jail cell.
It must be around one in the afternoon when someone knocks on the door. Alex opens it and the boy steps in. All of them call him Rookie, so I don’t know his name. He comes in with a tray of food (dry crackers, cheese, and a few grapes) along with a cup of coffee and a few sachets of sugar and creamer. He places it on the bed beside me.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He nods and leaves without saying a word.
As soon as the door closes, Alex resumes his position on the floor in front of the door, his back pressed against it like a sentry. His legs are propped up, arms resting loosely on his knees, but there’s nothing relaxed about him. His shoulders are taut, his jaw clenched, and his stormy gray eyes are fixed on the tray.
“Eat,” he says.
I’m starving, but I only manage to force down a few grapes before my anxiety makes me feel like I’m about to throw everything up. A cup of iced coffee would hit the spot right about now. It’s Sunday, so I would’ve had one with Corey and Karmani today.
That thought reminds me how far I am from everything. My family. My friends. None of them know where I am, and the man responsible for separating me from them and upending my entire life won’t even look at me.
He’s acting like a complete stranger. Like he didn’t spend hours talking to me. Like he didn’t help me up the stairs when I was drunk. He’s pretending as if he’s not the man who joked with me and told me he liked my laugh.
I’ve been too afraid to say anything. I want to scream at him, demand answers, but the weight of his silence and the hard set of his face have kept my lips zipped all this time. Still, the questions gnaw at me until I can’t hold them back anymore.
“Why did you agree to this?” I ask.
His gaze slowly lifts to mine, those gray orbs boring into me, and the anger simmering beneath the surface is palpable. “Money.”
It’s weird. It hurts more every time he says it.
“So, that’s it?” I’m still having trouble making sense of his actions. “You kidnapped me...for money?”
“No, I got close to you for money. I wasn’t supposed to be involved in this part.”
It’s so matter-of-fact, so emotionless. My heart squeezes tight enough to cause a piercing pain in my chest. That response was so cold the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. I search his face for some hint of the man I thought I knew, but all I see is a liar. A dangerous liar.
He was so strategic in his approach, pushing for more and immediately pulling back when I offered any kind of resistance. That behavior came across like he was respecting my boundaries, and that earned some of my trust. But those were all manipulation tactics to get what he wanted.
I cross my arms because I feel so exposed. The whole thing was one-sided, and I feel like an idiot for allowing him to deceive me like this. “So, you’ve just been lying to me the entire time?”
He drops his head back against the door, lazily staring at me as if we’re not in some dilapidated warehouse in the middle of nowhere. It shows me how accustomed he is to this kind of environment.
“I never lied to you.”
I sneer, biting back the bitter retort that’s on the tip of my tongue. I’m not going to antagonize him because I don’t know what he’s capable of. Victor whipped out a gun and shot at a mere boy. Alex (or whatever his name is) has a gun. It’s covered by his black hoodie, but I can see a sliver of the slick metal clipped to his waistband.
If he’s half as ruthless as Victor, I’d better watch my step and mind my tongue. I’m still livid, though, and I’m becoming angrier as the disillusionment takes hold and cements itself.
It’s my fault. There were blatant red flags that I ignored. They appeared pink to me. I sensed danger and brushed it aside. I knew his guarded demeanor was strange but found a way to justify it. My attraction to him was so strong that I allowed him to play me like a fiddle. At some point, I really need to start listening to my grandmother’s advice.
Even now. He’s looking at me like I matter, like I might actually mean something to him when I know I don’t. He’s just here for the rest of his cut.
“Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I just—”
“Stop,” he snaps. “You’re alive, aren’t you? Isn’t that enough?”
I flinch at the sharpness of his tone, but I refuse to back down because I might be alive now, but how much longer will that last? “Are they going to kill me?”
“No.” His jaw is still tight. “You heard Victor. Too much is riding on you. As long as your father cooperates, you’ll be fine.”
I swallow hard, my throat dry. “What does Victor want?”
He hesitates, then exhales heavily. “The files your dad has. They’re proof of every crime Victor’s committed for over a decade.”
And then it clicks, more lies coming to light. “That’s why you asked to come over to my house. That’s why you were in my study.” I shake my head as I recall the events of that day. “We spoke in the kitchen for three hours, and I thought—” I stop myself short of saying I thought we had a connection because I can’t stomach admitting how stupid I was. “But that’s the only reason you were there.”
I hope it’s guilt that makes him drop his head like that. I hope it’s gnawing at him and that’s why he can’t even look at me.
But it’s not because it takes a mere second to brush that off and continue. “If your dad hands them over, Victor walks free. If he doesn’t...”
“What happens if he doesn’t?” My voice quavers despite my best effort to sound strong.
Alex’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something almost like regret. “My guess...Vic will probably kill him.”
I freeze. Ice runs through my veins. My dad...dead? The thought is too much to process, and panic rises in my chest, threatening to choke me. Tears prick the back of my eyes, but I blink them back. The gravity of the situation settles on my shoulders. I’m in this mess because of this asshole in front of me. My dad could lose his life, and he’s willing to rip my family apart for money .
“How much is he paying you?” I ask, the words bitter and acrid.
“What?”
“Victor? How much is he paying you? I want to know what I’m worth.”
He stares at me for a long time before he stands up and approaches the bed. He stops in front of me. “What are you worth?” His voice is dangerously low as he presses his fists into the mattress on either side of me. He leans closer, the heat of his breath caressing my lips, and I try to swallow my nervousness. “Let’s see. I’m risking my life, my freedom, my fucking sanity—all because of you. At this point, I don’t think any amount of money could adequately sum up how much you’re worth to me.”
There is an electric current in the air, crackling with the tension rising between us. I don’t know what he means by that, but something about his tone softens me just a little.
He’s so close, his broad frame dominating the space around me. I feel his arms on either side of me, encasing me in a cocoon of strength. Somehow, his proximity makes me feel safe, and for a moment, I forget where I am.
Once again, I see the man I thought I knew, the one who showed me humor and tenderness, the one I could talk to so easily. I see him . And I want him to slip those arms around me, hold me close, and tell me everything’s going to be okay.
He leans in, his lips hovering a mere inch from mine, and that’s when I snap back to reality. This man broke into my house and abducted me. He is not tender. This is probably another tactic to get me to trust him again, and I won’t fall for it this time. He’s dangerous, and I need to get away from him.
I clear my throat, shifting back slightly. “I need to use the bathroom.”
Alex nods and steps back, gesturing toward the small bathroom. “Go.”
Standing up, I walk to the bathroom, taking deep breaths to steady my erratic heartbeats. I step inside, closing the door behind me. I need to get out of here.
My hands tremble as I scan the room. It smells musty, and the faint drip of the faucet echoes in the silence. There’s an air vent above me, but it looks too small to crawl through.
I yank open the bathroom cabinet above the sink. My heart pounds as I sift through its contents: an old toothbrush, a nearly empty tube of toothpaste, and a bottle of acetone. Useless! I slam it shut and crouch down to check the cabinet beneath the sink.
Bleach, detergent, rubber gloves, and a scrubbing brush. No scissors. No sharp objects. No salvation. Frustration builds within me, hot and suffocating. I slam the cabinet door shut, swallowing back a scream.
My eyes dart to the tiny window above the toilet. It’s narrow, but maybe—just maybe—I can squeeze through.
Looking around, I grab a towel from the rail and jam it against the door. It won’t help much to stop anyone from entering, but at the very least, it could buy me a few extra seconds to get away.
Turning on the faucet to mask any noise, I climb onto the toilet and push the window open. The warm afternoon air brushes against my face, and I grit my teeth as I hoist myself up.
It’s a struggle, my dress catching on the edge of the frame, but I force myself through feet first. The rough edges scrape against my skin, but I don’t care. My feet touch the ground, and relief washes over me. The sun is hanging low in the sky, but there’s still enough light for me to find my way. To where? I don’t know, but I have to get out of here before anyone notices I’m gone. I’m not sure what’s beyond that fence. Looks like more warehouses and—
“Going somewhere?”
My stomach plummets.
I whip around, and there he is. Alex, standing in the shadows with his arms crossed.
“Don’t,” I start, but before I can finish, he grabs my arm. “Let go!” I thrash against him, desperate to get out of his hold.
“Stop fighting.”
“No!”
He told me if all else fails, I should bite. It already worked last night, and I’ve got nothing to lose. My teeth sink into his forearm, and when he winces in pain, I use all my strength to break free. I sprint toward the boundary fence, my bare feet slapping against the cold, hard ground. My lungs burn, but I don’t stop. Freedom is so close. I can taste it.
Alex catches me just before I reach the fence, his arms locking around me as I fight with everything I have.
“Let me go!” I scream, clawing at his arms.
In one swift motion, he tosses me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing and carries me back inside. I go wild, kicking and pounding his back, but he doesn’t let up.
When we’re back inside that God-forsaken room, he kicks the door shut but doesn’t lock it. He shoves the bathroom door open with his elbow, slamming the faucet shut before roughly setting me down on the floor.
“Do you know where you are?” he rasps, his chest heaving, his jaw tight as he spits out the words. “You’re not in some fancy suburb. Do you know what kind of people you’re surrounded by? You’re out here with the dregs of humanity, pieces of shit like me. Do you know what they would do to you...especially with you looking like that?”
His heated gaze rakes over me, dark and dangerous. It zones in on my lips then moves lower, over my breasts, and down to my thighs. His perusal of me is slow and thorough, so overt I have to fight the urge to cover myself up, so lascivious my thighs involuntarily clench together.
He looks like he’s about to pounce on me, and for one deliciously delirious moment...I want him to.
But then he shuts his eyes as if he can’t take the sight of me for one more second. He unzips his black hoodie, yanks it off, and chucks it at me.
“Put this on,” he orders.
I slip it on, the fabric warm and heavy with his cologne. Inhaling deeply, I once again feel the safety of his presence, and I chastise myself because I keep falling for the same stupid thing. I need to stop getting lost in his scent and devouring his chiseled chest with my eyes. This man is not who I think he is, who I keep wishing he could be. He’s a threat to my very existence, and I need to get as far away from him and this place as possible.
I know he left the door unlocked, and I bolt for it again.
He grabs me almost immediately, slamming me against the wall. His movements are fast, calculated, his breath hot on my skin as he whips out a gun. The cool metal presses against my forehead the next second.
“I swear,” he hisses, his voice low and acerbic, “if you try to run from me again, I’ll put a bullet in you myself.”
My blood runs cold, tremors racking my whole body. “Your boss...” I manage to choke out. “Your boss said no one’s allowed to touch me.”
“He’s not my boss ,” Alex grinds out through gritted teeth, each word laced with venom. “And I already got more than I need. I shouldn’t even be here.”
His eyes burn into mine. The fiery tension between us sucks all the oxygen out of the room. My breaths are so shallow it feels like I’m barely taking in air. My rising temperature mixes with the cold from the tiles against my shoulder blades, culminating in a wave of apprehension that prickles down my spine.
“Then...” My voice catches in my throat, lodged behind the ball of nervousness in my larynx. “Then why are you here?”
I know I’ve asked him this question a few times already, and it’s probably stupid to keep holding out for another answer. But a part of me is simply refusing to believe that everything that happened between us was a lie.
“Take a wild guess.”
“You want the other half of your cut?” I say when I can finally formulate a coherent sentence.
“Not even close.”
His hand drops slightly, and I swallow hard when the gun faintly catches my lower lip as it descends. His eyes follow every movement as he hooks the barrel into the zipper of the hoodie and slowly drags it down.
I’m shaking now, but I try my best to remain perfectly still. “Victor coerced you? Blackmailed you with something?”
“Try again.”
The cool metal grazes the sensitive skin between my breasts every time I take a breath. My head is spinning. I can’t think straight.
My last guess seems utterly preposterous, yet I’m silently hoping it’s true. “Is it because of me?”
He releases a loaded breath and slowly lowers the gun, tucking it back into his holster. He turns away from me, as if he’s feeling the full weight of that decision for the first time. A minute ticks by, and he still says nothing. He’s so tense. I can feel it. I can see it in the taut muscles on his back, and I don’t know how to de-escalate the situation.
Eventually, I step forward and cautiously reach out to touch his shoulder.
He immediately spins around, lightly smacking my hand away before his fingers curl into a tight fist. “Don’t touch me.”
The warning comes as a shock, a reminder that I still don’t know who I’m dealing with. I’m trying to gauge where I stand with him, and he’s not giving me any clarification.
I lift both hands in surrender. “Sorry.”
He diverts his gaze, looking anywhere but at me. “I’m barely hanging on by a thread here, and I’m trying really hard not to...”
He pauses, and the agonized look on his face makes it seem like he’s wrestling with something internally. But then his eyes return to me, sweeping over my semi-exposed body from head to toe. His expression hardens, like he’s reached the end of his tether.
Without warning, he places his hand on the flat of my chest and shoves me against the wall again. His other hand snakes up my back, weaving its way into my messy hair, and he tilts my head until my lips are angled toward his.
“I’m gonna kiss you,” he whispers hoarsely. “No biting.”
His mouth slams down on mine, and it’s so unexpected that I don’t respond for a few seconds. Air freezes in my lungs, and my whole body stiffens. But it doesn’t take long for him to seduce me into submission. He teases my lips apart with his tongue, and the sexiest groan greets my ears when he slips it into my mouth.
Never in my life has anyone kissed me like this. With such fervor. With such hunger. He kisses me like he’s been yearning for the taste of me. He sucks on my tongue as if he’s trying to engulf the essence of my entire being. I get swallowed by his lust so quickly, like a vortex that yanks me off the ground, and now I’m spinning mindlessly within it.
His tongue tangles with mine in an agonizingly slow dance, eliciting scorching heat that coils in my stomach and spreads through my limbs. His hand tightens in my hair, pulling just enough to tilt my head further so he can deepen the kiss.
A soft gasp escapes me. The noise seems to snap something in him, and another groan reverberates on my lips. His body jerks closer, his blistering hot chest presses on mine as he pins me against the wall. His hard, unyielding muscles encapsulate me from all sides, caging me in so I can’t escape. The icy tiles on my back contrast with the warmth radiating off him, and it’s a sensory overload I can barely process.
His other hand runs down my side, firm and possessive, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. But then it sneaks beneath the hoodie...and under my dress...
Featherlight touches caress my inner thigh, and I gasp when I feel the tip of his finger skim the edges of my thin lace panties. He toys with the seam, then shifts it to the side. Slowly, he strokes my entrance, lubricating his fingers before slipping two inside me. A moan staggers out of me, my head dropping back against the tiles, and he uses the opportunity to give my neck the same attention.
Rough stubble scrapes against my sensitive skin before he pulls it between his teeth. It only heightens the dizzying effect of his touch. He lifts my leg to his waist, which allows him just the right angle to push deeper inside me. My hips rock on their own accord, riding his fingers as I chase my own pleasure.
The moans I release are so loud and desperate they don’t even sound like me. Languidly, his fingers move in and out of me, tantalizing every overwrought nerve, stifling every breath I try to draw in.
I’m clinging to him, clutching his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin because I need something solid to hold onto, to keep me grounded so I don’t float away.
He devours me, his lips demanding and unapologetic. There’s no room for hesitation or second thoughts, just the raw, unfiltered intensity of this moment. With every thrust of his fingers, I’m taken higher, inching ever closer to the pinnacle I crave.
I’m on the edge, the precipice, ready to tumble when reality comes crashing back and hits me with brutal force. This is the same man who held a gun to my head not even five minutes ago. The man who slammed me against this very wall without hesitation.
What the hell am I doing?
How could I let such a man touch me, let alone get to an inch of a mind-blowing orgasm?
“Stop.”
The whisper is so soft it barely reaches my own ears, but he immediately stops. The abrupt removal of his warmth leaves me feeling cold and exposed. I cross my arms to preserve some of it, holding on to the last fragments his body left behind.
He steps back, his hands dropping to his sides. Ever since I met him, he’s always accepted rejection like this. Wholeheartedly and without exception. He won’t even try to persuade me.
And knowing that there’s no second chance to rekindle what we just shared almost makes me feel a twinge of regret, but I brush it aside because I can’t be that stupid. He. Is. A. Criminal. And I can’t willingly want a convicted felon.
My breathing is ragged, and I can’t tell if it’s from the lack of oxygen or the sheer panic clawing at my throat. Alex takes another step back, putting more distance between us. But then he stops, his stormy eyes searching mine for a reason, some kind of explanation. His chest heaves, and there’s something almost vulnerable in the way he looks at me.
“I can’t...” My voice cracks, coming out shaky and uneven. “I can’t do this. Not with you.”
For a moment, I think I see a flicker of pain cross his face, but it’s gone so quickly I’m not sure it was ever there. He looks at me like he wants to say something, but instead, he just turns and walks out of the bathroom.
I lean against the wall, trying to slow my breathing. My fingers tremble as I bring them to my lips, still swollen from the kiss. The taste of him lingers, intoxicating and maddening all at once.
A few seconds later, he walks back into the bathroom. His movements are brisk, his expression almost lifeless. I’m still trying to process what’s happening when he grabs my arm in a firm grip.
“Alex, wait. What are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer. He drags me out of the bathroom and over to the bed, the old metal frame creaking under my weight as he pushes me down.
“I need to get out of here.”
I see the handcuffs and start to panic. “Alex, stop! Please don’t tie me up. I won’t try to run away. I—” I stop short when he takes hold of my wrist.
“Unfortunately, Katie, you’ve built quite a track record in these last few hours, and I don’t believe you.”
He cuffs one wrist, then loops the chain around a metal bar on the bedframe and cuffs the other.
“Alex, don’t do this!” I beg, yanking at the restraint, the cold metal biting into my skin. “You don’t have to leave. Stay. Please. I want you to stay.”
Despite everything, I actually mean that because the alternative scares me more. I don’t want to be alone with these people. Alex is the lesser of two evils, and I’d rather take my chances with him.
He doesn’t look at me. “You’ll be safe here.”
“Safe?” I screech, my voice spiking in pitch. “Safe with who? Safe with them? With Victor?” I’m freaking out now, grasping at any straw that will make him reconsider. “You can’t leave me. Victor told you not to let me out of your sight.”
“I know. That’s why you’re cuffed.”
He walks over to the bedside table and strikes a match to light the oil lamp. It’s not even dark yet, so it’s not necessary to light it now. How long does he plan on leaving me here?
I tug at the handcuff, desperation clutching my chest. “You don’t have to do this. Just stay. Please .”
He ignores my pleas, doesn’t even look at me before he turns on his heel and walks out, the door slamming shut behind him. The sound echoes in the silent emptiness that follows.
I sit there, stunned, my wrist already aching where the cuff digs into it. The small room feels even smaller now, the walls closing in with every passing second. He said he needed to get out of here, but for how long?
Does he just need a few minutes to cool off? Or did he leave entirely, abandoning me to the mercy of Victor and his men? He admitted that he was here for me. If that’s true, then rejecting him means he has no reason to stay.
I sit there, waiting for him to come back, feeling more desolate as the room gets darker. Awkwardly, I shift to lie down and stare at the ceiling, watching shadows caused by the flickering light. My arms start to go numb. I try to stay awake, stay on high alert because I don’t know what to expect, who might be coming for me.
But eventually, my eyes get heavy, and I do my best not to pass out from exhaustion.