Chapter 5
POV: Dane?
She was like an intoxicant to me.
A drug like substance in person form and I couldn’t get enough.
And I wanted more—no, I fucking needed more.
I loved hearing that dirty little mouth of hers swear at me and call me psycho. I loved seeing the rage build in her eyes. I loved that she had put herself in this situation and hadn’t even realized.
The cute serial killer obsessed girl had gotten herself kidnapped.
I had watched her for the last few hours, where she basically stomped around the room, making a scene by threatening me as loudly as she possibly could, hoping that would change the situation but she knew better.
Every once in a while she would knock on a wall or door and scream “Help!” but she knew that was useless too.
For the last 30 minutes, she locked herself in the bathroom, and I almost went in there, until she stomped her way out and threw herself back onto the bed.
The funny thing about control is that once you’re without it, you’ll do anything to try to get it back.
That’s what most of the women did.
My failed pet projects. They begged. They offered. They pleaded. Some even tried to give.
But that’s why they were failed pet projects.
Because once they did any of those….they no longer interested me.
There were three phases, first denial, second shock, then third grief—which began with pleading and usually ended with them offering me their bodies.
I didn’t need a woman to offer me their body as if it was something for sale.
I didn’t need to buy something that belonged to me.
That’s why I didn’t need their offer, because they never truly did.
Once they failed, I injected them with the drug and dropped them off into their old lives, where they would never remember what happened to them.
15.
That’s how many women failed my tests.
15 women.
But I was 15 women closer to finding the one.
And a part of me believed that she was it.
Gabrielle.
She might be the one to pass every single one of my tests.
For the last few hours, I cooked for her, something familiar, something she was used to.
Chow mein. Pork Dumplings. General Tso chicken. Eggrolls. Though I bought the egg rolls and dumplings from the store, I was hoping this meal would lighten her up.
Though, it was a naive thought. I knew that a woman like her would end up being more difficult than I’d ever truly bargained for.
It was 5:00 pm and I was staring at the camera feed, eyes glued on the way she rolled over in bed, covered her face with a pillow and muffled her screams.
A smirk twitched on the corner of my lips.
Now’s the time.
When I unlocked the door, I knew I was in for a fight.
And the fight came in the form of balled fists and her running at me.
I caught her in my grasp, quickly tugging her arms behind her back and clasping the cuffs on her. She fought me, as expected, and even tried to head butt me.
That only made me chuckle.
“You sicko!” she yelled. “Get your hands off of me!” she tried to stomp on one of my feet.
“Settle down, you’re going to hurt yourself,” I reminded her, shutting the door and dragging her into the hallway.
She didn’t stop protesting, instead she even tried to fail her body into my side to catch me off balance.
“You’re just going to tire yourself out,” I told her, dragging her along the hallway into the kitchen.
Both my hands grasped her waist as I forced her into the chair and caught a kick to my shin.
I shot her a glare before using all of my weight to press her shoulders down. “Stop.”
But of course she didn’t. She only tried to kick me more.
“I’m taking you back to the room if you keep this up,” I warned her.
She snapped at me, “Good! At least there I don’t have to be near a fucking psycho!”
I smiled as I ran a thumb across her cheek, causing her to flinch, as my other hand held her shoulder down. “Fine by me. You can wait for tomorrow to eat like a civilized person.”
“Eat?” she almost shouted.
“Yes. I was just about to bring out dinner.”
She bit her lip, thinking about it for a moment, before quickly nodding. “Fine. Just for dinner.”
I cocked an eyebrow, watching her squirm from my touch. She hated that she liked it.
“Good girl.”
She fought back an insult and mumbled something under her breath as I quickly unlocked one of the handcuffs with one quick movement, then twisted the still handcuffed arm behind her back and locked it to the chair.
And just like I expected, she swung at me with her free hand, tried to stand on her feet, but the metal chair held her back, scraping in place, as a guttural noise left her mouth from the pain.
I stared at her, smirking with crossed arms. “Sit down, Gabrielle.”
She tried to drag the chair again but only was met with resistance.
“Sit down before you hurt yourself.”
She slumped down hard into the chair and let out another noise.
I placed two paper plates down on the table, one in front of my seat which was a few feet away from her, and one in front of her seat.
She stared at it in shock. “What’s—what’s this?”
“Chinese food.”
She shot me a glare. “You’ve been watching me.”
A smile crept onto my face and spread wide. “I’d never do such a thing.”
Her free hand clutched the plastic fork, bending it in her grasp angrily. “Does this get you off?”
“Watching you think about eating chow mein?” I asked between a bite of a dumpling.
Her jaw ticked. “Kidnapping women. Is that why you do it?”
I shrugged, plopping the rest of the dumpling into my mouth and not blinking. “It’s for research purposes.”
“Why? Because you have a limp dick? This is the only thing that gets you up?” she spat.
I laughed a real belly aching laugh. “I have no problem getting hard.”
She played around with an uneaten dumpling, not even taking a bite.
“You should eat. I clearly didn’t poison it.”
“Maybe you made yourself a different batch.”
“I like you alive.”
“You’ll never touch me,” she said without conviction as she finally ate a dumpling. But when she started eating, she barely took a breath.
I decided not to interrupt her, besides I’d rather like that she was actually enjoying herself instead of insulting me for a second.
But when she finished, she went back to glaring at me, “If you’re looking for someone to keep here forever, I’m the wrong choice.”
I smirked.
“I’m not into the whole housewife thing and I definitely won’t catch Stockholm syndrome plus I have a job.”
I got to my feet, ignoring a response to her explanation. “Time to get back.”
She fought at first, all the way until we got back to the room, especially when I took off the handcuffs then gave me one last look as I stared at her from the other side of the door. “Goodnight, Gabrielle.”
Then just as I was about to shut the door, she went in for the kill, leaping forward and almost causing me to shut the door on her hand. Luckily, she was too slow, but I heard her muffled screams from the other side.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t beg. She didn’t offer sex.
Well, she went much further than the others did in the first 14 hours.