Chapter 23
I Don’t Belong To You
Emily's Search History: Can you develop Stockholm Syndrome in seventy-two hours?
Emily
I don’t know why I didn’t run.
I could have. Maybe even should have. And yet… when he left me sitting on his bike, freedom wasn’t what crossed my mind. I was thinking about the danger he was in.
The bike rolls to a stop in Eli’s driveway. He swings off first, then holds out a hand to help me dismount.
The leather clings to my skin, hot and uncomfortable, sweat sticking it to me. I understand why it’s necessary, but I really am not a fan.
“I’m going to shower,” I tell Eli as we step inside.
He just nods, smiling at me with that boyish innocence he always seems to have. But he’s not innocent. Not even slightly.
Getting the leathers off is a battle—pushing and wriggling them down over my too-chubby body.
That thought makes me pause.
I didn’t feel self-conscious when I put them on. Normally, I’d want to cry. I’d study my reflection and wish I were someone—anyone—else. But Eli makes me feel beautiful. Desired. Just a few days under his heated gaze have been enough to quiet my insecurities, even if only for a moment.
The shower washes away some of that softness I’ve been feeling towards him. I can’t let myself get caught up in his fantasies. He’s dangerous. He’s… well, he needs help. Professional help. More than even I can give.
When I head back downstairs, Eli’s nowhere in sight—but there’s a door open that usually isn’t.
I push it wider. A staircase leads down.
Indecision churns in my chest.
Fuck it.
I take a step.
The only sound is the thudding of my heartbeat.
What’s down here?
The walls are dark, yet the lighting is clinical, too bright.
At the bottom of the stairs sits a closed door with a green light beside it.
My gaze darts around, nerves racing up my spine. It’s silent. Empty.
A metallic taste fills my mouth.
I grasp the doorknob and twist.
It gives.
The door swings open.
And I scream.
Strung up to the ceiling by hooks through his hands, causing blood to drip down his body, is the man we tailed earlier today.
And Eli?
Eli is cutting out his tongue with a smile on his face. That same innocent smile that causes butterflies in my stomach every time I see it. A smile that now has me hunching over and vomiting up the small amount of breakfast I managed to eat before his friend, Tyler, got here.
His head whips towards me at the sound of my puke hitting the black concrete floor below me.
He freezes, then steps towards me. “Angel—”
I hold up a hand, pausing his movements.
My chest heaves as I try to regain some semblance of control.
My lower lip trembles as I straighten, and tears moisten in my eyes. “What… What are you doing?”
I know what he’s doing. It’s pretty obvious. But still, I ask.
Eli looks between me and the man, then down at himself, taking in the blood staining his arms, his t-shirt, his shoes.
He takes a deep breath, holding his hands up as if I’m the dangerous one. “You know what he was doing, Angel.”
It’s not a question but I nod anyway, unable to speak.
“This was an interrogation,” Eli states.
I lick my now dry lips. His eyes track the movement.
“How can you interrogate someone without a tongue?”
“Well, I’ve gotten what I need from him. Now I’m just cleaning up.”
“Cleaning?”
“Getting rid of evidence.”
A horrifying thought comes to me.
“Is this where you brought Tom? Did you kill him in here too?”
Eli closes his eyes, then those grey irises fix on me. “Yes, this is where little Tommy got what he deserved for touching what didn’t belong to him.”
Bile rises, threatening to spill again. “Me? I’m what didn’t belong to him?”
Eli smiles as if pleased with my words. “Yes, Angel. You belong to me.”
I shake my head, backing up. “I don’t… I don’t belong to you, Eli. I’m a person, not something you can own.”
I turn to flee, needing to get away.
But the door I came through is now locked.
I spin.
Eli is closer now, a remote in his hand.
“Let me go,” I whimper.
He shakes his head. “I can’t do that,” he whispers.
Eli takes a step closer while I step away. My back hits the door.
A tear slips down my cheek. “Please,” I beg, my voice broken and hoarse.
His hands cup my head, tangling in my hair. He leans in, inhaling deeply.
One of his hands leaves my face, caressing me on its way down.
Ow.
Something pricks me.
My knees give out, my head swims.
“Don’t worry, Angel,” Eli whispers as the world slips away. “I’ve got you.”