Chapter Five
Rosie
Morning light slithers into the room through the cracks in the boarded-up window. I already smell bacon and coffee, which excites me considering how little I ate last night.
“Breakfast in five,” a voice says on the opposite side of the door. It’s not the scary movie voice guy, and it’s not the deep voiced man. So, I gather it’s Hawk. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him much yet, and he missed my full-on mental breakdown last night.
Lucky him.
I’m sure I scarred those men for life. They’re probably back in their rooms crying about what a mistake they made kidnapping me when they could’ve had some skinny little thing. I mean, there are lots of girls on that site. Why did they pick me? I’m thick and curvy with stretch marks. It’s hard to believe anyone bid on me, let alone kidnapped me for sex.
Am I feeling flattered by the kidnapping? This has to be some sort of survival instinct my brain has sunk into.
I can’t believe I actually thought I had my life figured out. I was going to sell my virginity, get paid, buy a house, start a little farm, and go to nursing school. I’d pay Owen back for all he’d done for me, and I hoped I’d have a little left for some new clothes. I really wanted to update my turquoise collection.
Unfortunately, that dream is officially crushed. I won’t be making money at all. Instead, if I ever make it back to reality, I’ll be in debt the rest of my days paying back the actual bidder of my auction. It’s a stupid rule the website has. I think it’s to keep everyone honest. Maybe they’d have mercy on me if they knew I was kidnapped.
What am I saying? I’m not getting out of here alive.
The door cracks open and a man steps inside wearing another ski mask. I prefer this version of the men. Looking them in the eye while they fuck my life is much more satisfying.
“Hey.” The man sets a breakfast tray onto the bed with fluffy crisp waffles, fresh strawberries, bacon, a cup of coffee, and a glass of orange juice. “I already ate, but I figured I’d sit in here, keep you company for a bit, then take you for a walk.” This man wears jeans and an unbuttoned flannel with a white T-shirt underneath. His beard is long and full, spilling from under the mask. He’s definitely younger than Moose, but I can’t tell how much.
“A walk sounds nice. Do I have to be blindfolded the whole time?”
He drags in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Not the whole time. Once we get to where we are going, you’ll get a chance to take it off.”
I bite into the waffle and then the bacon, shoving food into my mouth like I’ve been starved for weeks. “I guess that’s something,” I say with a full mouth. “What day is it?”
“The sixteenth.” He sits on the edge of the bed as I eat. Already, I can tell his energy is softer than Moose’s. It might be even softer than Zee’s.
“So, you’ve only had me one night.” I sip the coffee. “I was worried I’d been passed out longer.”
“No. Just the one night. You feeling okay? I heard you lost your shit last night.”
I roll my eyes and bite into the waffle. “Yeah, little bit. Am I the laughingstock of the farmhouse?”
He tugs on his mask. “No, but there was a lot of concern. If you ask me, I think it’s my buddy who’s losing his mind.”
Is this the crack in the system people talk about? The obvious issue between criminals that allows the victim to exploit the situation?
“Yeah, I hear this was your buddy Zee’s idea.” I stay focused on my breakfast as though I don’t care about what he’s saying at all. “What’s his goal?”
The man lowers his head and wets his lips before speaking. “You need to talk to Zee.”
I stuff the last strawberry into my mouth and chew slowly, savoring the sweet crisp and gushing juice as though I haven’t been properly fed in a decade. “I’ve talked to him. He’s not talking back. I don’t know, I’m just… this whole thing would be a lot easier to swallow if I knew what was coming next.”
The man nods slowly, and I watch his square hand wave me toward him. “Let’s get you outside. Some fresh air will help.”
I fail to see how fresh air is going to help me through a kidnapping, but stretching my legs sounds better than sitting here endlessly asking questions I’ll never get an answer to. Besides, I need more time with Hawk. He seems like the type I can get going about something random and parlay that back into a deeper conversation. He may not answer the deep questions, but there’s a possibility I could extract something that can help me in the long run.
“Fresh air sounds good,” I say, sliding from the bed. “I don’t have anything to wear, though.”
“Oh.” Hawk pops around the corner and returns with a black sundress and a pink sweater. “This should work, right?”
“Yeah, but where did it come from?” The tags are still on the dress and the sweater.
“Zee had me stop at the store yesterday and grab you a few things. Sorry I haven’t put them in here yet. Hopefully it fits. He thought he knew your size, but I know everything fits differently.”
Who is this guy and how does Zee know my size? I guess he could’ve gotten that information from the Fantasy Driver website. God, why didn’t I think about how perverse all these men would be?
I can hear my mother’s lecture miles away as though she has a direct line to my brain. ‘ This is your fault, Rosalynn, now get yourself out of it.’
She never was the soft, caring type of mother. I always thought it was because she had to be both mother and father to me, but part of me thinks she liked a good power trip, and I was the easiest target.
Looks like I won’t be unpacking that in therapy anytime soon.
“Thanks,” I say, spreading the clothes out onto the bed. The sensible part of me knows I should ask him to leave. The part of me that’s trying to get him all hot and bothered, takes off the T-shirt and stands in the cold room, taking my time with the dress as though it’s normal to put your tits on parade. Lately, it has been.
Hawk stares like a deer in headlights, his eyes widening as the seconds pass. I’m not sure why this gets me off the way it does, but when I’m naked in front of these guys, there’s a control I seem to have that I’m enjoying the hell out of.
“Damn.”
I shrug, slowly lifting the dress, dragging it down over my hard nipples and thick hips before sliding the fresh panties into place. “What?”
Everything fits perfectly, hugging my curves, cupping my breasts. I don’t think I could’ve found a better fitting dress if I were shopping for myself. Hell, I know I couldn’t have. I’ve tried. I usually spend hours scrolling through Amazon reading reviews, doing measurements, and lamenting, only to order something that looks like a potato sack or turns my shape into a busted can of biscuits. The same thing happens in the store, but the delusions I tell myself wear off much faster when the dressing room is conveniently located.
“You’re just… you’re doing this on purpose.” He stands and turns around, readjusting his junk as he moves. “You need to stop. Everyone is onto you.”
I roll my eyes. I guess I did come on a little strong with Moose. I mean, I was sucking him off ten minutes into our ‘dinner.’ In my defense, the guy didn’t have a lot to say. “I’m just getting dressed.”
“Right.” Hawk grins and turns toward the door. “Bundle up. It’s a cold one today. You’re gonna need that sweater.”
His comment on the weather has me thinking about my ambivalent walk to work every morning. I never thought I’d miss the sun and rain of Spring so much.
We walk through the house and cut through a space to the left of the bedroom where a door to the outside world waits. It’s not like I’ve been trapped all that long but seeing the bright, natural light is startling.
I squint my eyes and step out into the fresh, cool air, breathing in the sweet smell of timothy hay as a gate squeaks in the distance. Hawk hasn’t put my blindfold on yet, but I’m not going to remind him. I’m going to soak up every detail I can.
A large gray barn, chickens clucking in the nearby grass, the soft tickle of weeds against my ankle. The overcast but blue sky, corn sprouting in a field, a dark green tractor sat at the edge of a dirt pile. It’s adorable and quaint. It’s a place I’d love to get lost in. That said, the beauty of the rolling hills dampens almost immediately as Hawk squeezes the soft, black blindfold over my eyes.
“Sorry. If the guys see you with no scarf, they’ll lose it.”
I nod slowly and drag in a heavy breath, homing in on the crow that mocks me in the distance. I should have kicked this dude in the balls and run. I should’ve done something! I should have done anything but stand there like a good girl and let him blindfold me again!
Fuck!
“Moose said his farm is pretty big. Is he out working today?” I talk as Hawk grips my arm, trudging me out into the field toward what I’m guessing is the trail in the woods. I got a brief glimpse of it when the blindfold was off.
“Gotta keep things runnin’ constantly. He’s got a few sheep to sheer and a load of chores to get done by dinner.”
“Is that where is Zee is too? Work?”
Hawk grips my arm tighter. The ground is softer over here and I don’t like the way my feet sink into the mud, so I step more widely with an exaggerated hopping motion.
“What on Earth are you doing?” Hawk groans, trying to hold me tight.
“I don’t like the smoosh. The ground is doing the smoosh thing. I can’t see and it’s freaking me out.”
He groans low under his breath, and in a second, I’m sailing on his shoulders as though I weigh nothing at all. Most girls probably wouldn’t bat an eye to this, but I’ve never been lifted so easily in my life. “We’re almost there.”
A soft breeze sends a chill down my spine as I hold his thick shoulders tight and fly to whatever place we’re going to. I wonder how Hawk got wrapped into this. He seems so sweet, so careful with where he lands his hands on my thighs, so soft-spoken. I can’t imagine him ever being the type that would want to kidnap someone. Moose, though, I’d believe that in a heartbeat.
“There we go.” He steps up onto higher ground and lets me down slowly, standing behind me as he pushes my mask up with his big hands. “I present… the woods.” I’m surrounded by tall trees that seemingly brush the sky and a specific scent of pine I’ve grown familiar to. It’s not like other forests or the kind of pine smell you get off of a parking lot Christmas tree. This is rich and warm, deeply mingled with the scent of damp earth and wood.
Squirrels chatter and scramble between a row of berry bushes and a few birch trees whose bark is peeling in long white curls. A blue bird sits alongside them, picking red berries, and I wonder if she can tell that I’m in distress.
I’ve always loved the forest. It’s my favorite place to get lost and recharge. A sanctuary to go to when I need clarity. I’ve never been a people person, but losing myself amongst the life of a buzzing woodland is everything. I’m really glad Hawk brought me here.
He brushes his hands up and down my arms, as though he’s warming me. “I figure we’ll go for a little hike. You sure you’re going to be warm enough? You can wear my flannel if you want.”
I twist back to him and smile. “You know you’re like the nicest kidnapper ev—” I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. “Your…your mask!”
His brows wrinkle. “What about it?”
“It’s not on. I see your face.” His heavy brows narrow, and he leans forward with regret, searching his pockets for the ski mask he’d been wearing earlier.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
He lifts his undershirt to cover his gorgeous face, showing a twenty pack of abs. Really, I have no idea how many there are, but they’re stacked one by one on top of each other like a rippling wave of perfection.
“I’ve already seen your face.” I bite back a grin as I talk.
He groans and drops his shirt down. “ Shit! Don’t look at me.”
I glance away and bite back an actual smile. This guy is kind of hot. Actually, not kind of, he’s really hot. He’s tall, lean, and he looks like he should be doing underwear commercials. He keeps his short black hair buzzed on the sides and his eyes shine like the brightest green I’ve ever seen. His beard is long, and his nose is Grecian looking. If I ran into this person at the grocery store, I’d forget everything I was doing and settle for a frozen pizza as I stalked him through the aisles.
He lifts the shirt again. “Fuck.”
“I’ve already seen you. You can put it down, for real.”
“You’ll forget,” he says, shaking his head.
“I’m not going to forget that face,” I say with a grin, unable to look away. “Sorry.”
“Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, sweetheart. I’m in charge out here.” When Moose tells me he’s in charge, I believe it. When Zee says it, I don’t question it. Hawk… he’s like the least convincing of the three.
“I’m not trying to get myself anywhere. I’m serious. I’m not going to forget your face. You’re hot as fuck.”
Maybe I shouldn’t say that. Maybe I should tell him his face is forgettable, so he’ll move on and not feel the urge to murder me and toss me off the mountain. Hot guys can be murderers too. I mean, this one kidnapped me.
“Seriously,” I continue, “why don’t you have a ring on your finger? Or maybe you do, and you just take it off to fuck virgins. That begs the question, why me? I mean,” I scan his perfect body up then down again, “you could have your pick of virgins… and anyone else you wanted.”
He shakes his head and bites the inside of his cheek before linking into my hand as though we’re off for a romantic walk through the woods. “I don’t want my pick of virgins. That’s not what this is about.”
“Okay then, what’s this about?” I stop beneath a pine tree and stare up at the man in front of me. It’s different to see his whole face, to watch his expressions, to feel what he’s feeling.
“I told you. It’s for Zee to tell.”
“Is he the mastermind or something?”
Hawk shakes his head and walks forward, taking me with him. “Why don’t we talk about something else.”
I roll my eyes and refocus on the world around me, gathering my center from the trees. “Okay… what do you do for work?”
“I’m a writer.”
“A writer. So, is this some kind of research? Did you have to kidnap a woman so you knew exactly how she’d react for your story?”
He laughs. “No. That’s a level of dedication to the craft I haven’t found yet. Maybe I should, though. Next story for sure.”
“Or,” I step over the root of a tree protruding out of the ground, “you could add it into this book. What genre do you write?”
“Science fiction. I’m working through this story where a guy can travel through dimensions and he uses it to live multiple lives all at once. The conflict comes up when, through a bit of happenstance, a woman he’s been seeing ends up in the wrong dimension and sees how she impacts the world with her choices. There’s an allegory throughout the story that parallels the main character’s infinite quest for knowledge while trying to find perfection in the every day.” He looks away and shrugs. “At least that’s what it’s supposed to be. Currently, I’ve spent days trying to gauge how much sex you need in a science fiction book to get anyone to read it.” He chuckles a little at his own joke, and his smile under this light has me short of breath.
I stare up at Hawk, trying to figure how this man gets a body like he has if he’s in front of the computer all day. Clearly, he makes time for the gym. “So, is it a faux pas if I ask the author how this girl got to the other dimension? Let me guess, magic cock.”
He shakes his head and brushes his hand down over his beard as though he’s thinking over my question. “You know, that would solve everything, wouldn’t it? Honestly, I’m not quite sure yet. I typically focus on the feelings of the characters and the rest of the book usually writes itself. The events in the book are important, but they’re driven by what you want the reader to feel as they go.”
“Sounds deep. Maybe I’m in another dimension, working on my self-discovery.”
He laughs. “Oh really? Have you found balance with your existence yet?”
I drag in a deep breath of pine and cedar. “Well, I’ve learned how desperately far I’ll go to get out of a shitty situation.”
“Oh, so you went the magic cock route.”
I can’t help but catch myself laughing as I say, “I guess so. Look, you’d do the same thing.”
“No,” he laughs hard, “I wouldn’t. Especially not with Moose.”
“Okay, but with a woman. If I’d kidnapped you, you’d for sure try and seduce me.”
He shakes his head and scratches his hand down over his beard. “Don’t get any cute ideas. I’d figure something out, but I wouldn’t use sex.”
I roll my eyes and resituate my hand in his. “Okay, mister. You’re so much better than me.”
“Not saying that,” he says as he continues to laugh. “I’m just saying it wouldn’t work. I’m not sure I have the same sex appeal you do.”
Now I’m the one laughing uncontrollably. “Okay, well, now I know you’re a liar.”
“Not lying. You’re cute and you’ve got this whole tough girl thing goin’ on. I mean, you take your clothes off one more time and one of us is going to take you up on your offer.”
My clit throbs. Why, though? Why does it throb? Nothing about this is sexy. Nothing about last night was sexy either, but I was soaking wet, dreaming of the things that giant man could do to me all night long.
I clear my throat, desperate to change the subject. “So… how many books have you published?”
“I’m on my tenth novel. The last one made some waves out in the UK, but I’m still waiting on my big break here. You read much?”
“No, I’m one of those horrid humans who prefers rotting in front of a reality TV show than reading. I can’t remember the last time I picked up a book.”
He laughs under his breath and glances toward me with jovial intent. “I get like that too sometimes. What kind of reality do you watch?”
“I’m addicted to this dating blind show right now. It’s so stupid. Everyone on it is attractive, so I have no idea why anyone is disappointed with their pick based on how they look. It just shows you how picky people are.”
“I’m never impressed with what I see on those shows. Everyone is so fuckin’ fake these days. The hair, the nails, the tan, the contours, the rubber asses, the saline tits. It’s gotta be exhausting for women.”
“Umm… I think you’re the first man on Earth to acknowledge a woman so clearly, but you missed one thing.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” He cracks the cutest sly grin.
“Well, it’s men who perpetuate that standard.”
“Ha! What? No way! It’s women doing shit to keep up with other women. I don’t give a fuck about fake tits or big lips. You know when something catches my eye? It’s when I see women who’ve pulled their faces back so much that they look like some artificial intelligence rendering of what a person is supposed to look like. We’ve got women out there lookin’ like the Texas Chainsaw guy with their skin all stretched across their faces.”
“Whatever! Men all say that, then follow fake lips and tits on Instagram daily.”
He grins. “I think you are thinking of boys, young lady. Real men are working, not fucking around online.”
My stomach tightens and the shock of something warm spreads between my thighs. “That’s a really good answer.” I bite my bottom lip as I glance up at him.
I’m not actually falling for this guy, am I?
For fuck’s sake, I just had the big guy’s dick in my mouth, and I liked it. I also love Owen, and I miss him a lot. Clearly, I’m having some kind of breakdown. You’re not supposed to like your captors.
This is fake. This whole conversation is fake. We’re making small talk so a captor can manage his prisoner effectively. There’s no real emotion behind it.
“It’s not an answer. It’s the truth. No one should be on it, really. It’s not good for anyone, especially people your age.”
My age? I’m not sure how to take his comment. I get where he’s coming from. He’s older than me. If I had to guess, I’d put it at least ten years older. That said, why is he bringing it up as though I’m a child who shouldn’t be trusted with social media?
“Don’t you use digital platforms to further your writing career?”
“Probably would help, but it’s not my thing. I get way more done when I pretend I’m living in the eighties. Hiking, kayaking, trips to the book store. All of which is way more enriching than one of those boxes everyone is carrying.”
“Boxes?”
“The phones.”
“So, you don’t have a phone?”
He shakes his head. “Not a smart one. I have a phone for emergencies that I keep in my truck. If you need to talk to me, you’re calling my landline.”
A crow lands on a nearby branch and caws as though he’s trying to warn me of something. Is it a red flag when a grown man doesn’t carry a cell phone? Apparently, the crow thinks so.
“What about you? What do you do for work?” Well, we’re definitely making small talk. I think this is what I wanted.
“I ran a flower shop with my friend for a while. Now, I work as a barista, but I want to go to nursing school and live on a little farm. I always thought I’d be so much further by now.” I shake my head. “I guess that’s the way the world goes.”
“Further how?”
“Further like I’d be married with a couple of kids, a good job, a few chickens.”
“Aren’t you like… in your mid-twenties?” His forehead wrinkles as he talks.
Why do we keep talking about my age? “Yeah.”
“You’ve still got plenty of time. I didn’t have my shit together until I was over thirty. Even then, it’s a work in progress. That’s the thing about life. It twists and turns then gives you things you didn’t think you needed.”
I brush back a strand of hair as a breeze blows through. “You talk like I still have a life after this.”
“You most definitely have a life after this. Zee loves you. He’s protecting you from this whole thing.”
My stomach clenches as my gaze meets Hawk’s. I read about guys like this on the message boards before I signed up for Fantasy Driver. The kind of guys who think they know you, who fall in love before they even meet you. “Who’s Zee? How does he love me? You can tell me. I’m not going to say anything.”
“Look, I already said too much. He’s not gonna hurt you. That’s all I’m trying to say.”
“So, Zee wanted me for himself. Is that it? He was outbid, and he wanted me for himself, so he talked you and Moose into kidnapping me? And you,” I turn toward Hawk, “you…were somehow convinced that taking a woman against her will was a good idea?”
“It’s not like that. Zee knows,” Hawk pauses as though he was about to say something he’d regret, “you’re going to be safe.”
Stomach tight, I roll my eyes and step forward without looking and catch my foot on the root of a tree. Hawk grabs for my arm, but I’m already on the ground with a sharp stick piercing through my skin.
Dear Lord, I’m not sure I could be any more idiotic.
I glance up at the handsome man in front of me, then down at my leg that’s currently dripping with blood and clear fluids. Maybe I can use this in my favor.
“Shit!” He bends down next to me, closing in on my space, his strong shoulders focused on my knee where the scrape is the worst. “Don’t move, okay?”
I want to be a nurse, but I have no official training, and though I know how to clean the cut and cover it, I don’t know much else. Plus, this thing is huge. I’d guess it’s at least three inches across and the swelling is out of control.
Hawk unscrews the cap on the water bottle from his backpack, and spills water over the top of the gash until the debris is flushing clear from the mark, then he wraps his shirt around the bleeding center and ties the knot tight before looking toward me.
His hand lands on the side of my face and he brushes away a strand of hair. “How bad does it hurt? One to ten.”
I don’t know what’s happening out here, but the way he looks at me, the gentle way he touches me, the way he jumped into action when I was hurt, it’s… nice. He’s big and strong and kind of sweet.
“Umm… it’s actually not so bad right now. Maybe like a four.”
He sighs and wraps his big hand around the shirt, where blood is soaking through at a rather quick pace. “I think you might be in shock. The adrenaline is probably pumping right now. I’m going to carry you back to the farm, okay?”
“How do you know all that?”
“Know what?”
“Know about the adrenaline thing, how to wrap my cut…”
“Research. I do a lot of research with my books. You’d be surprised at all the weird shit that comes up when you’re writing.” He lifts me up into his arms, cradling me against his chest before he turns down the mountain.
“You really don’t have to carry me. I can walk.” Also, I have no idea how this man is lifting me so effortlessly.
Thighs this thick usually have to walk themselves.
“I’d rather carry you.” He pauses for a moment and looks at me long and hard, like he’s studying my face, almost as though he’s feeling the same strange connection that I’m feeling. “I gotta say, I don’t understand why you’d do something like this.”
“Like what?”
“The virgin auction. You’re gorgeous and you seem sweet. A little mouthy,” he laughs, “but sweet. Why are you throwing all that away?”
“Clearly, it was all a quest to get into your psyche. It looks like it’s working.” I laugh and play it off as nothing. “Truthfully, my personality traits are like an everything bagel. If any of those seasonings were genuinely good, they’d highlight it on its own bagel.”
He chuckles. “Add funny to that mix.”
“It’s not a joke. I’ve literally been living with my best friend for like two years and even he has no interest. He hasn’t even made one move.”
“Does he know you like him?”
I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I mean, he has to, right? We do everything together. I think the truth of it is, he’s just not into me.”
A cool breeze blows across the field as we step out of the protective walls of the forest. He hasn’t put my blindfold on, but I’m not correcting him again. I make note of the placement of the house versus the big barn in the distance, and how the little pasture is fenced off beside it. There’s a chicken coop to the left… and a big, giant man with no mask storming toward us.
Shit!
His beard is long and his eyes flare with a darkness that I can’t well describe. He’s a beast. A beautiful, big, strong, glorious beast that looks like he could rip everyone in this place limb from limb if he wanted to. I need to see him closer. I need to study his face.
“Fuck,” Hawk groans, “you’re not wearing the mask. Moose is gonna lose it.”
“Where is it? I’ll throw it on quick.”
He sets me down in the grass carefully, leaning me against his side shoulder as he searches his pockets for the blindfold, but Moose is closing in on us, and he’s already seen me.
“The fucking mask,” he growls. “She’s not wearing her fucking mask!” He stares at me, narrowing his dark, shadowed eyes. “I guess you do whatever the fuck you want now?”
I open my mouth to speak, but I close it again, watching the lines in his face wrinkle and relax.
“It’s my fault.” I swallow hard as I speak, choking a little. “I lost mine and then I ripped his off. That’s how I hurt myself.” I guess by the arm cross, eye roll combo that he knows I’m full of shit, but Hawk corrects the situation anyway.
“No, it’s my bad. She fell and got hurt. Everything got a little crazy from there.” He lifts me from the ground again, taking pressure off my knee. “I need to get her inside.”
Moose groans under his breath and turns away. I’m not sure what he said, or what his role is in all of this, but judging by the silence as we stomp toward the house, I gather we’re all in trouble.