Chapter 17
brIELLE
I wait until his breathing evens out, then carefully slip out of the bed. Every few seconds, I pause, turning to watch the steady rise and fall of his chest. When I’m sure he’s asleep, I move to where his clothes are bundled up on the floor.
There’s only a small chance the keys to any of his fucking cars are in his pocket, but it’s worth a shot.
My fingers close around something hard, and I pull it free, not sure what it is. When I lift it with the tip of my fingers, I realize I’m holding a knife. My knife. The blade is covered in dark gunk.
“Jesus fuck!” I toss it on the carpet, my eyes flicking to Emris, who’s sprawled on the bed. Guess I’ll need a new knife when I get out of here.
I wait a few minutes before reaching for his pants again and checking the other pocket.
Jackpot.
I pull the keys from his pocket, and I can’t help the smile that grows on my face. Now the question is, do I leave while he’s asleep, or do I wait and come up with a game plan?
After what happened between us, I know I need to get away from him as soon as possible. Every second I spend around him is another second I can’t afford, because I refuse to feel these kinds of things for a man who kidnapped me.
I can’t.
Tomorrow. I’ll leave after Emris goes to bed. I’ll get the fuck out of this place and hope I can ditch the car and get a new one before he has a chance to catch up with me. I’m sure all his cars have GPS tracking like the last one did.
I rise from my spot on the floor and cross to the side of the bed I was on. Carefully, I lift the bottom edge of the mattress and shove the keys underneath. Then I ease myself back in bed, staying as close to the edge as possible.
My eyes fall closed, but sleep doesn’t find me.
Counting sheep won’t do it, either. I roll onto my back and turn my head, watching the way his eyes flutter, and the way his lips only part a small amount.
His scent surrounds me, and a part of me wishes we could’ve met differently.
Maybe if I’d met him as any normal person would, this could’ve been something, but he took me against my will and won’t let me go.
He won’t even tell me why, so there’s no chance I could be with someone like him.
He’s not a good guy, and he’s definitely not someone you bring home to meet your parents.
Not that I have any, but that’s not the point.
I keep my gaze fixed on him as my eyes start to droop closed. And when sleep finally takes me, the sound of a phone going off somewhere in the distance wakes me.
I open my eyes, and the light shines through the curtains.
It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since I fell asleep, but I feel like I’m on death’s door.
My head pounds, and I need coffee as much as I need air.
Looking around, I expect to see Emris, but the side he was on is still warm, yet he’s nowhere in sight.
I should be happy I’m alone, but my heart pangs at the idea of him not being next to me.
I’m fucking losing it.
I sit up, running a hand down my face before my eyes land on a note lying on the nightstand.
Come downstairs.
The door is unlocked.
-Emris
I set the note back down and sigh before pushing up from the bed.
My clothes are lost somewhere on the floor, and the last thing I want to do is go hunting for them.
Instead, I grab the shirt Emris wore last night and pull it over my head.
Thankfully, there are some shorts draped on the chair, and I grab those, pulling them on as well.
He better have fucking coffee.
The sound of muffled talking hits my ears, and I slow my pace down the stairs, trying to overhear.
“Have you heard anything?” Carson asks.
“No. But we need to know where she is, and there’s only one person who can hopefully tell us something,” Emris replies, and I can’t help but feel like the person they are referring to is me.
“If we don’t find Susie in the next week, Archer is going to come do it himself, and you know that won’t end well.”
Susie? As in my Susie? I place my hand on the wall and creep forward, careful not to let them see me.
“Yeah, well, this is all your goddamn fault. Again, Carson.” Something scrapes across the floor, probably a stool or chair.
“You really wanna start pointing fingers, Emris? Because you’ve been pretty distracted with the fucking girl upstairs.”
I peek around the corner and see the two guys chest to chest. Rolling my eyes, I decide to do the right thing and break up whatever pissing contest this is.
Men are fucking dumb.
Rounding the corner, I clear my throat, and two sets of eyes swing my way.
“Why are you talking about Susie?” I cross my arms, waiting for something, but neither of them says anything. Emris only sighs and steps away from Carson.
“Coffee?” he asks, walking closer. His eyes never leave mine, but he’s also not answering my question. I’m desperate for caffeine, so I won’t say no.
“Awe, how nice of you to ask your prisoner if she wants something.” I glare at him, but he only smirks. “You know what I’d really love? To go home,” I snark, “but I guess I’ll settle for coffee.”
“Sorry. Not an option. Last time I checked, you no longer have a home, or did you forget?”
I can’t lie. That hurt.
“Yeah, and whose fucking fault is that, asshole? If you and dipshit over there didn’t take me in the first place, I would’ve gone home like normal, and I’d still be living my perfect little life.”
Emris turns toward me with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, and a single brow raised.
“Was it perfect, though? From what I saw, that place was a fucking sack of shit. That roommate of yours is lucky he’s still breathing. From the looks of it, I did you a favor.”
He holds a steaming cup of coffee out to me, and I grab it with enough force that the dark liquid almost spills.
“A favor? You’re joking, right? Being held against my will isn’t a favor, Emris.”
Since this is my first time out of the room upstairs, I take the chance to look around.
This kitchen is fucking huge—something you’d only see in movies or magazines. Granite countertops and black modern light fixtures hang from the middle of the room.
I fix the coffee how I like it, not caring whether it’s rude that I’m helping myself to whatever is available in the fridge.
I lean my hip against the counter. “I want answers. Why am I here, Emris? Why are you talking about Susie?” I try not to stress, but it’s hard. I don’t like not knowing. Having control issues is a fucking bitch in situations like this.
“Your boss is mixed up in some shit she shouldn’t be.” Carson pipes up, sipping his own coffee on the other side of the island. “We need to talk to her, but it seems like she’s disappeared.” There’s a strain in Emris’s jaw as he sends Carson a death glare.
“What do you mean disappeared?” Setting my mug down on the counter, I wait for an answer. Carson doesn’t hesitate because, clearly, they’re fighting, and this is his form of retaliation against Emris.
“You know, like gone? No one has seen her at The Whiskey. We even—” Carson stops when Emris gives him a look that would shut any sane person up.
“You even what?” I look between them, but neither of them answers me.
“Someone better tell me what the rest of that sentence is before I lose my fucking shit.” I stand to my full height and I cross my arms, feeling whatever patience I had left evaporates.
“You’re in no position to demand answers here, Brielle. If you haven’t forgotten, we are the ones who took you, not the other way around. You belong to me and only me. I don’t have to tell you a goddamn thing.”
“Fuck this and fuck you, Emris.” Not being able to control myself, I grab my cup off the counter and go back to the one place that somewhat feels like mine, praying he will leave me the fuck alone.