Chapter 5
I slept with my hands tied to the bed. The knot was made on the back side of the headboard, and I couldn’t twist my hands to reach it. It was impossible to get free.
After Grayson had left, I tried my best to stay calm and think myself out of the situation, but I couldn’t. There was no way out. My hopes were shattered. It had finally sunk in—if the police didn’t find me soon, I was going to die here.
I hoped they were still looking for me. I hoped they hadn’t given up on me. My parents and Rachel would never, I was certain of it. Rachel did make a pact with me.
I let my mind wander into the memory, letting it carry me off, away from this room.
It had been our first semester at college.
We were at a party and Rachel had decided to leave with the infamous soccer player, Jake.
They had been making eyes at each other since the day we arrived and ran into him at the coffee shop on campus.
I had felt uneasy about it, but she promised to send me a message as soon as she got to his apartment.
She had always been the brave one. Unlike me, she didn’t let fear stop her from living. From having fun.
But her message never came. By three o’clock that morning, I called the police, frantic with worry.
Her phone went straight to voicemail, and I had no idea where Jake lived.
I had gone back to the party, to find someone who might know where Jake lived, but they were shut down, and everyone had left.
The police were better at finding him than I was. Within ten minutes they had his address, and I insisted on riding along with them. Jake opened the door of his apartment, groggy eyed—with a confused, half-asleep Rachel peering over his shoulder.
“Rachel! Oh, thank the gods!” I had pushed past the officer and Jake, slamming my arms around her. Seeing her, safe and unharmed had felt like a boulder was lifted off my shoulders. I had imagined all sorts of bad scenarios. I cried and she cried.
The officer had scolded her for making me worry that much, while I had stood there, red faced, feeling like I had overreacted.
Rachel, of course, had been too enthralled with her crush to remember her promise to me.
She had thought, at her insistence, that I went home with Shuan, the business major who had been flirting with me all night, who would later become my boyfriend through most of university.
In her mind, I was too busy to worry about her.
When we got back to the dorm, I cried some more over ice-cream, unable to shake the terror I had felt for my friend, while she tried to soothe me.
We made a pact that night, a sacred pinkie promise—come hell or high water, we would always find our way back to each other.
We would never leave this world without the other.
“Quick, A. Give us a spell,” Rachel had said, teary eyed.
I had laughed, my heart overflowing.
“Move to me, as I move to you. Until our last breath, our bond stays true. I’ll find you, and you will find me. No force can undo this sisterhood, So Mote It Be.”
We had repeated it three times, clutching each other’s pinkies, to seal the bond.
I closed my eyes against the memory. Rachel must be feeling ten times worse than I did that night.
She saw me being taken. There was no question about the danger I was in.
We should have never made that pact. Because it seemed Fate had decided that I would end up in a shallow grave in Frostford Forest, probably next to the woman and the girl, and Rachel would waste her life away, looking for me, feeling that hollowness, feeling like she had failed me.
I was pulled from my thoughts by the lock sliding open. Grayson came in, clutching a bowl in his hand. He walked around the bed and sat next to me, blocking the sun from my face.
“Today’s breakfast is oatmeal. My favourite.” He stirred it around the bowl. A sick feeling rolled through my abdomen just looking at it, but I had to eat. My survival depended on it.
I waited for him to untie me, but he didn’t. Instead, he picked up some oatmeal on the spoon and brought it to my mouth. I stared at him, stunned.
“You know how eating works, right? You have to open your mouth for the food to go in.”
I glared at him some more. “So, you’re not untying me? How will I use the bathroom?”
Grayson arched a brow at me. “You should have thought about that. Now open up.”
I flinched away from the spoon. “You have to let me use the bathroom,” I said firmly. I wanted to tell him that he was barbaric and disgusting, expecting me not to use a toilet, but I bit my tongue. It would do nothing but anger him. It would only worsen my situation.
He was chuckling. “You don’t seem to understand your role as hostage, very well. I don’t take commands from you. I don’t have to do anything.”
“So, you expect me to just go in the bed?”
He eyed the bed and crinkled his nose. “You’re right. I’ll take the bed out. You can sleep on the floor. No need to waste a perfectly good mattress on you.”
Tears were stinging my eyes. I couldn’t believe him. He had no empathy for other human beings. And I was trapped here with him. The tears started spilling onto my cheeks.
He rolled his eyes at it. “Calm down, Princess. I’m joking. I will take you to the bathroom twice a day. No more.”
Relief flooded through me. There wasn’t much left for me, except my dignity. “Then you can untie me to eat as well.”
He scoffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m not untying you to eat.”
“Why not?” That didn’t make any sense.
“Because I want to feed you.”
“Why?” I tried my best to keep my tone in check.
“Because you won’t like it.” He was smirking at me.
“That’s because I’m not a child.”
“You’re pouting like one.”
My lips pursed together. I couldn’t take it anymore. He was infuriating. He was acting like we were bantering. He had kidnapped me, drugged me, hit me, tied me to a bed, and now wouldn’t allow me to eat by myself.
“You’re sick.”
Grayson’s smirk widened. He pressed the spoon against my lips, and I didn’t have a choice but to open my mouth, or the oats would have been smeared all over my face.
And who knew when I would be able to clean myself up again.
I tried my best not to gag as I swallowed it down.
It didn’t taste bad, but I struggled to stomach it.
This whole situation left a bad taste in my mouth.
He had another spoonful ready at my lips.
I couldn’t look his way while he pressed the spoon into my mouth again.
It felt degrading for him to feed me like this. Was that why he did it?
“How did you get to me so quick without me hearing you? I would have heard the door open.” I changed the subject, before I could lose my mind. I realised that he might not know what I was talking about, but he answered.
“I was waiting for you. Did you really think it wouldn’t cross my mind that you would try to run?” He was looking down at me, like he pitied my lack of intelligence.
I turned my nose up, trying to hold on to my dignity. It was stupid of me. I should have known better. I thought I had control of my emotions, that I was thinking clearly, but I wasn’t. “You don’t look that smart,” I shot back, already chastising myself for letting my pride simmer through.
He arched a brow at me. “You’d be surprised, darling.” He forced another spoonful of oats into my mouth. Seemingly done with the conversation.
I watched him while I chewed and swallowed, chewed and swallowed.
He had a perfectly crafted blank expression.
Yet, the two cuts over his eye made him look menacing.
Without them, he would have looked… normal.
He had walked the streets, with women undoubtedly batting their lashes at him, not seeing the monster that lurked underneath.
Not knowing how close they were from ending up like that woman and child in the photo, from ending up like me.
Were there others? By the way the room was cleaned out for any weapons, my guess was yes.
“Are you falling in love, Princess?”
I hadn’t realised that I was openly staring at him. My disgust for him welled in my face. “I could never love a man like you.”
A glimmer of emotion moved across his face but was replaced with a condescending grin before I could catch what it was. “That’s the first smart thought you’ve had.” He reached over and harshly wiped at the corner of my mouth with his thumb. “I would ruin you.”
I yanked my head away. “Don’t touch me.”
He grabbed me by the throat, pulling me closer to him. My arms were straining against the ropes. “I will do as I please. But you should watch your tongue.” I didn’t know how he was able to make threats in such a light tone, yet it still made my skin crawl.
“Fuck you,” I rasped, my face starting to feel as hot as my temper.
I didn’t care anymore. If he wanted to hit me again, let him do it.
If he wanted to kill me, let him get it over with.
I was going to meet my makers anyway, why prolong my suffering?
I was tied up like an animal, just waiting to be taken into the slaughterhouse.
He rolled his eyes and let go of my neck. “There you go again, trying to fuck me.”
Steam was coming out of my ears, I was sure of it.
I couldn’t lunge for his throat like I wanted to, so I settled for the next best thing.
I kicked at the bowl of oats that was on the bed, making it jump into the air and landing upside down in his lap.
There were oats all over him. His head snapped up, shock crossing his features first, then anger as he glared at me.
There were pieces of oats sliding down his neck.
“We don’t waste food in this house.” His voice wasn’t as aloof as usual. I felt a sense of satisfaction that I got under his calm facade. It was stupid, but it was worth it.
He was trying to scoop the oats back into the bowl.
“I don’t care about your stupid rules or your stupid food. Just let me fucking go!” I screamed in his face, knowing I was headed towards dangerous waters, but I had already gone too far. I couldn’t show fear now.
He stood up, oats still running down his pants. “Then you won’t mind going without my stupid food for a while.”
Grayson didn’t come back until it started turning dark. By that time, I couldn’t hold my bladder anymore. He hadn’t taken me to the bathroom all day. My tears threatened to betray me when he finally walked into the room. Only my stubborn pride kept them in check.
“You have five minutes before I tie you up again,” he said in a clipped voice, while untying my wrists.
I almost ran to the bathroom.
“I mean it. Five minutes,” he barked at me.
The bathroom door snapped shut behind me and I quickly relieved myself, then went back to get some clean clothes. He was sitting on the windowsill, one leg propped up, looking out over the mountains. He didn’t acknowledge me.
So, he was staying. That made me nervous, even though he told me he doesn’t touch women like that, without consent. I didn’t know this man or how honourable his words were. Hadn’t he laughed at Mr. Greene for trusting him?
The map was still in my pocket, and I thanked the gods he didn’t see it. I would have to keep it on me. There was no way to sneak it past him back into the drawer. I just prayed that he doesn’t open that drawer before I get a chance to put it back.
I hurried through the shower, no idea of how much time I had left. He didn’t make idle threats, that much I did know about him. What about the food? Was he serious about that? He hadn’t brought me lunch or dinner. My stomach was rumbling.
I stood in front of the mirror, combing my fingers through my hair, trying my best to detangle it when the door swung open. It irked me that he didn’t knock, and I knew it was stupid of me to expect that my captor would show some manners towards me.
I took a play out of his book and didn’t acknowledge his presence. My fingers just continued to rake through the knots until he spoke.
“Time’s up,” he grumbled. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching me, obviously in a bad mood.
I ducked past him and walked towards the bed, not looking at him and not giving him the satisfaction of dragging me back himself.
“Could I get a hairbrush?” I straightened the sheets on the bed and fluffed the pillows. I didn’t actually give a damn about the tangled blankets, but the dread of being tied up again, had me doing anything to stall.
Grayson didn’t answer me, he only watched me until I had nothing left to do but get onto the bed.
He walked over and lifted my hands above my head.
His proximity made my heartbeat pick up.
His smell invaded my nostrils—woodsy and a little sweet, like freshly harvested Oleander and something else I couldn’t put my finger on, something dark. He began tying them.
“Could you not make it so tight this time. It hurts.”
Grayson looked down at me, an eyebrow arched, and tugged on the rope, pulling it even tighter around my wrists.
When he was done, he walked around the bed and picked up the Vervain that was drying on the nightstand by the door.
“Please leave it,” I panicked and hoped my face didn’t look as flustered as my voice sounded.
“Why? It’s dead,” he questioned.
How do I answer that? “It’s all I have. I don’t suppose you’re going to pick fresh flowers for my grave, are you?” That was a lame excuse. I wanted to kick myself.
The annoyance crept back onto his face, and he dropped the Vervain back onto the table, petals fluttering everywhere, before stalking out the door.
And I was too proud to ask for food.