Chapter 16 He’s Taken Everything
He’s Taken Everything
Eli's Search History: How to move an entire apartment of furniture in under four hours.
Emily
My flat is empty. Not in the ‘Emily, you’re a bit of a loner’ way. All my stuff is gone.
Furniture? Missing.
My books? Nope.
My vibrator? Not here.
My thumb is hovering over the button to call the police and report a robbery when a text pops up.
Anonymous: Don’t be mad.
I freeze.
Emily: Did you steal all my things?
His reply is immediate.
Anonymous: Not stolen. Moved.
I stare at the message in shock.
Before I can reply, the sound of my window opening has my head snapping up as a man steps into my living room window.
My stalker extends to his full height, that creepy mask firmly in place, and I almost take a step back, but I straighten my spine, glaring at him. Though, my heart is thudding a mile a minute.
“Give me my belongings back,” I hiss.
He rumbles a laugh. “I told you, they’re not stolen, just moved.”
Exasperated, a heavy sigh escapes my lips, a sound of frustration and defeat. “Why?”
“Because Graham can’t live here, and I know you miss him.”
It takes a second for my mind to process his words. “What have you done to my cat?”
He shakes his head at me. “I brought him home. Your parents are very polite.”
My breath seizes in my lungs.
With trembling fingers, I dial my mum's number.
“Hi Em,” she greets, and some of the tension drains, knowing he hasn’t hurt her.
“Hey, just checking—how’s Graham?”
"Oh, let me find him." My heart rate settles as she shuffles on the line. "I don't know where he is." It staccatos again.
"What do you mean you can't find him?"
"You know how he is; he comes and goes as he pleases."
My mouth drops open. How could they not notice my cat is missing?
He really does have my cat.
I glare at my stalker. He has the audacity to tilt his head like he’s amused.
"When did you last see him?"
My mum shouts to my dad in the background. "A couple days. I'm sure he's fine, love."
"Right. Yeah." I can't believe I trusted them to look after him.
"So, have you lost any weigh—"
"Gotta go. Love you.”
The phone goes limp in my hand as I fall into a weird staring contest with my stalker. Weirder still, I feel him staring—intently—even though I can’t see his eyes.
“Where is Graham?”
He shrugs. “At home.”
“This is my home.”
“Not anymore.”
What the actual fuck?
“Stop speaking in riddles. I want my cat and my things.”
He holds out a hand. I can’t help that my eyes are drawn to those gloved fingers that once made me fall apart with a single touch.
“Do you trust me?”
I blink at him. “Trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”
“Angel,” he sighs. “Just come with me. I’ll take you to your cat.”
“And if I say no?”
I swear he's grinning beneath that mask. “Then I’ll throw you over my shoulder and take you anyway.”
I cross my arms. “No, you won’t. I’m far too heavy for that.”
In a blink, he’s in front of me. He bends to meet my height, voice low. “Don’t test me, Angel.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Suit yourself.”
Then suddenly—I’m off the ground. He hauls me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. One firm smack to my butt, and he’s walking toward the open window.
“Put me down!”
He obliges—briefly. But before I can bolt, he drags me out onto the fire escape and lifts me again like I’m weightless.
“Stop! I weigh too much!”
Why is that my focus right now? He’s literally kidnapping me.
He pauses on the steps, breath warm against my waist. “Do I look like I’m struggling, Angel?” Well… no. “Don’t insult me by calling me weak.”
“I’m not. I’m calling myself fat.”
His grip tightens.
“Don’t use that word like it’s an insult. Your beauty isn’t defined by your size. Next time you think about calling yourself fat, it better be followed by ‘and sexy as hell’.”
I have no words.
When he sets me down again, we’re standing in front of a sleek black motorbike.
I take a step back, glancing toward the fire escape. But what’s the point? There’s nothing up there for me now. He’s taken everything—even Graham.
He’s forcing my hand.
“I’m not getting on that,” I say with a huff.
He picks up a helmet I hadn’t noticed, gently brushes my hair back, and slides it over my head. He follows this by placing a leather jacket over my shoulders, encouraging me to place my arms inside. Then, turning away, he removes his mask and replaces it with his own helmet.
“Get your sexy ass on my bike, Emily.”
The voice inside the helmet makes me shriek.
A low chuckle follows. “There are mics in them.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I mutter.
He revs the engine.
I could still call the police.
Tell them everything—about Tom, the finger, the break-in, the theft.
But…
I’m curious.
So fucking curious.
Tentatively, I climb on behind him, my body stiff and uncertain.
He reaches behind and pulls me flush against his back.
“Wrap your arms around me, Angel.”
I hesitate.
A deep, impatient growl vibrates through my helmet.
I wrap my arms around him awkwardly. He tightens them, securing me to him.
“Lean into the bends. Don’t let go.”
Then we’re off.
The bike roars beneath us, the engine’s vibration rumbling through my core. That, combined with the heat of his body against mine, has my underwear embarrassingly soaked within seconds.
Streets race past us as we navigate the London roads, the landscape blurring with the speed.
My grip on his waist tightens, my heart thumping wildly.
Despite the fear, despite the anxiety, I feel… free. It’s exhilarating—feeling the wind rustling my clothes, the evening sun on my skin, a kaleidoscope of colours blurring past as we plummet towards the unknown. This terrifying, beautiful descent is everything I've ever craved.