Chapter Four- Dior
I stirred a little in my sleep. Something felt off, which made it impossible to get back to sleep. I kept my eyes closed, knowing that the sandman wasn’t done with me yet.
Wait, what was that? Heavy breathing? A weird panting sound got louder, and then the feel of someone’s hot breath made my lash extensions flutter. Slowly, I cranked my eyes open. Looking down at me were a pair of brown eyes and a mouth with a long pink tongue hanging out.
“AAAhhhhh!” I released a blood-curdling scream. Doing a full turn to get away, I tumbled right off the bed and onto the floor.
“Woof,” Lotus barked softly as she stared down at me from on top of the bed. She seemed genuinely confused as to why I was sprawled out on the carpet.
“Lotus, get your ass off my bed, you know better,” the rough voice of a man who entered the bedroom reminded me of where I was and my circumstances.
I remained lying on the floor as Lotus hopped off the bed and ran to her master.
Only when Buddha’s eyes zoomed downward did I realize that the t-shirt he gave me to sleep in was all the way up to my stomach.
My entire lower half was on full display to his prying eyes.
Scrambling, I yanked the t-shirt down and sprang to my feet.
I did my very best to ignore the fine specimen of the man who stood before me. Buddha wore white sweatpants. That was it, nothing more, nothing less. His curly hair was out, hanging loosely, reaching the tops of his shoulders. His hair was wet; I’m guessing he just came out of the shower.
The entire length of both his arms was covered in black and blue inkwork, all the way up to his throat. His chest and stomach were tattoo-free. Jesus, now tell me why in the hell was I staring at this man like a meal. For fucks sake, he kidnapped me!
“Do you always sleep like a newborn baby that got breastfed?” Buddha asked, folding his arms across his naked chest. I frowned at him, not sure what his problem was.
“What?” I asked, fidgeting to get my hair in a bun.
“Do you know what time it is?” I opened my mouth to reply, but he held his hand up to my face. I snapped my mouth shut, confused. Did he not ask me a question?
“It’s almost 8 o’clock,” Buddha said that shit as though I had slept for months and missed Christmas.
“And? What time do your other kidnapped victims wake up?” I knew being a smart ass wasn’t going to help, but I couldn’t stop myself. His features changed; those hard-to-read eyes grew very dark, and he stepped closer to me. I felt panic building in my chest as I took two steps back.
“My morning begins at 5 am, sometimes 4 am. From now on, that’s the time you’re expected to be up,”
Oh, this nigga done lost his mind. The only way I’m up that early is if I have to catch a flight out of town.
“Do I look like a rooster that crows at the crack of dawn to you? I’m not waking up that early,” I said defiantly, tilting my head upward so he’d know I meant business.
Buddha kept staring at me, then turned and left the room, with Lotus following. That’s when I noticed the large image of a man praying with his hands clasped under his chin, with his eyes closed. It was a tattoo of a praying Buddha. I suppose this was how he got his nickname.
I jumped a little as he slammed the door shut. After a couple of seconds, I began to panic. This man threatened to blow my brains out last night. Yet here I was, not knowing when to shut the fuck up. I began scanning the bedroom, hoping to find a phone.
Suddenly, the door flew open, and I damn near pissed myself. I yelped in fright and jumped on the bed to try to evade a very angry Buddha. He marched over and wrestled me on my back, pinning my hands above my head.
“What the fuck?” I muttered when I realized he was putting tie straps around my wrists again. I wriggled and struggled, kicking my legs upward as I tried to get this almost 7 ft, maybe 260lbs of pure muscle of a man off me. It was no use; he was successful in restraining me once again.
“Yeah, keep struggling, I like that shit. The more you struggle, the more you expose yourself for me to see,” Buddha said with a smirk as he looked down at my lower half.
I don’t know how it happened, but the t-shirt was now bunched under my breasts.
Buddha eyed my half-nakedness; he did not attempt to hide the way he was gawking at me.
“What are these? Victoria's Secret?” He asked, looking between my thighs at my black lace underwear. The corner of his mouth lifted as he reached down and allowed the tip of his index finger to make a lazy line in the middle of my underwear, brushing lightly on my clit.
“Do not fucking touch me,” I said, mortified at what he did, the way his finger tip traveled along the fabric, actually felt good. How could I enjoy being touched intimately by a man who was holding me against my will?
“You know what I think?” Buddha asked, then dipped into his pants pocket and pulled out a bandana. “I think you want me to touch you,” he said and finished his sentence with a smile.
“Fuck you,” I replied, hating that he was enjoying this.
“Yeah, and that’s what this is for. You need to learn to control your fucking mouth,” He held the bandana up, and before I knew what was happening, he wrapped it around the back of my neck, covering my mouth.
Once again, I was bound by my wrists and gagged at my mouth.
I narrowed my eyes to angry slits as I glared at the man on top of me.
“You’re on a ten-minute time out. I’m going to leave you in this room so you can think about how you can be better,” I looked at him, petrified as he got off me.
This man was fucking insane; he was really about to leave me like this.
I began mumbling from behind the gag. Buddha paid me no mind as he walked right out the door, locking it from the outside.
Buddha lied; he was not back in ten minutes.
I was pretty sure an entire hour had gone by.
I really needed to pee and brush my teeth.
I felt tears running down my face as I thought about my situation.
I swear on everything, I would never speak to Lewis again in my life.
He was the reason I was in this predicament.
I mean, what the fuck was he thinking? Stealing from fucking Italians who were a part of some organized Mafia.
Shit, I thought stuff like that only happened in movies.
The sound of the door unlocking made me thankful.
I already made a promise to myself that I would learn to bite my tongue.
Buddha appeared, walking toward the bed he had left me on.
He was fully dressed this time, in a long-sleeved white shirt and black dress pants.
His hair was tied to the top of his head in his signature man bun.
I guess the shows about Italian gangsters and the way they always dressed were true.
My tears, I could tell, did nothing to him. He was probably used to not only making women cry, but also making grown men cry. Hell, didn’t he make Lewis cry? I waited for his next move. Was he about to untie me? Or was he about to keep playing his little game?
“Come here,” he said as he forcefully pulled me upright, swinging my legs so that I could stand up. Pulling the cloth from my mouth, I remained silent while he cut the ties from my wrists.
“You need to be ready in less than ten minutes. We have to go to the main house for breakfast with my family,” I ignored the warmth of his closeness and the masculine scent of his cologne, which I could tell was expensive.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” I chose my words carefully, because what I really wanted to say was, you half-Italian asshole, you kidnapped me with just the clothing on my back. However, I knew that would get me nothing but being locked away for the rest of the day.
“While you were on time-out, I went over to my sister’s house. She does nothing but shop every fucking day. I got you a bunch of shit she never wore before,” I bit my tongue so the thought that came to mind wouldn’t pass my lips.
“Why you look like you got something to say, Dior?” Oh, he was enjoying this, judging from the smug, stupid look on his face.
“I don’t,” I lied, staring him directly in his eyes. He made a huffing noise as though he didn’t believe me.
“Go shower, I’ll leave the clothes on the bed. There are fresh towels in the bathroom,” He pointed at the door behind us. Saying nothing because I had a new plan in mind, I turned and walked toward the closed door. I felt Buddha’s eyes on me with every step I took.
Once in the privacy of the bathroom, I raced to the toilet so I could empty my bladder.
I sighed in relief as I took in the layout of the room.
The first thing I noticed was the window above the shower head.
It was wide enough for me to squeeze through.
It was the only window in the room and my only means of escape.
All I needed was something to climb on top of, and I’d be free.
I’d run as fast as I could away from this dreadful situation I was in.
I flushed the toilet as I got up. I pondered my escape plan.
I would be on my best behavior all day, then tonight, somehow, I was about to make a run for it.
That was the only thing on my mind as I stood under the shower, enjoying the warm water.
Come hell or high water, I needed to leave this house because there was nobody coming to save me.
“Jesus,” I mumbled softly as I looked at all the designer clothes laid out on the bed. Buddha’s sister must be a fashionista. Did she really willingly give him all of this for me? He probably bullied her into it. There were so many brand-name items to choose from.